Читать книгу Reclaimed By Her Rebel Knight - Jenni Fletcher - Страница 15

‘Don’t!’ Constance waited until the very last moment, calling out as he lifted the door handle.

‘Why?’ Her husband looked back over his shoulder, his expression an unmistakable and somewhat intimidating blend of impatience and anger. ‘Was there something else you wished to accuse me of?’

She shook her head, wishing that she could go back and start the interview all over again. As it turned out, she’d guessed his identity correctly the previous evening, but meeting him in person had proven even more difficult than she’d anticipated. It had been hard enough confronting the man who’d usurped her inheritance and banished her from the home that she’d loved, but the sight of the daybed, drawn out from its usual place in the corner and set in the very centre of the room, had made things even worse. With her aunt’s advice still ringing in her ears she’d felt like a condemned prisoner on her way to the gallows.

His appearance hadn’t helped. He’d looked just as stern as before, albeit less dishevelled in a pristine white tunic, dark breeches and black leather boots instead of the bizarrely pointed shoes the men in her uncle’s household had recently taken to wearing. Clean-shaven, however, his features had looked even sharper and more dangerous, while smiling still seemed beyond him, except for one small attempt which might easily have been mistaken for a grimace. The only softness about him was in his eyes, which seemed to belong in a different face altogether. They were a deep, almost black shade of brown, wide and soulful and fringed with lashes several shades darker than the rest of his blond-and-copper-streaked mane. There was something almost feminine about them, unlike the rest of him, which was undeniably, unequivocally, masculine.

She hadn’t been able to read his expression at first, but the way that he’d scowled as she’d crossed the room had made his feelings abundantly clear. Obviously he’d been disappointed with his first sight of her, no doubt comparing her unfavourably to her cousins, though he might have tried to hide his reaction a little. Almost the very first words out of his mouth had been about her appearance and then all he’d said was that she’d grown! As if she wasn’t already keenly aware of the fact!

She’d entered the chamber determined to hide her true feelings and be ‘modest and obedient’ like her aunt had told her and then done the exact opposite, answering his questions with retorts and being generally belligerent instead. But how else could she have responded to his behaviour? ‘Modest and obedient’ were all very well, but surely that didn’t mean she had to tolerate disparaging looks and comments? Yes, she might have grown since their last meeting, but she could hardly do anything about that! And, yes, she might have been young when they’d married, but she certainly hadn’t been a child! She’d been more than capable of managing Lacelby! It was what she’d been trained for! Which her husband would have known if he’d actually bothered to speak to her on their wedding day. If he hadn’t just stolen her inheritance and left!

It had been too much to bear. All of the resentment and bitterness of the past five years had seemed to catch up with her at once, rendering ‘modest and obedient’ impossible. So she’d been rude and over-sensitive, misinterpreting his words and then insulting him in the worst way possible, but she’d never been so mortified in her life, first at what she’d thought he meant by her charms and then at his mirthful response.

The inevitable result was that he was leaving and she could hardly blame him. She didn’t particularly want to stop him either, but after what her aunt had said about making her and her uncle proud, Constance didn’t want to let them down either. If her husband left so soon after their reunion then the news would be around the manor in less than an hour and the banquet would be even more of an ordeal. Everyone would be talking about it and watching them, speculating as to why he’d left so soon and what had—or more precisely had not—happened between them and why. It would be hard to regard their marriage as anything other than a dismal failure and she’d promised to do her best...

‘I mean, please don’t go.’ She could hear the stiffness in her own voice. ‘I didn’t mean to be so abrupt, but...’ she sought for an excuse that didn’t involve resentment or abject rage ‘...I’m nervous.’

‘Nervous?’ He drew his already scowling brows even closer together, regarding her suspiciously for a few seconds before dropping his hand from the door handle. ‘Very well, then. Shall we sit?’

To her relief, he gestured towards the window seat instead of the daybed, almost as if he were making a point of avoiding it, and she perched on the far edge, resisting the urge to start chewing her fingernails again as he sat down beside her.

‘I should not have called you a liar.’ She folded her hands in her lap, waiting for some words of reproof, but to her surprise he sighed and spread his own hands out in a placatory gesture instead.

‘I should not have laughed.’

‘It was a misunderstanding.’

‘It was an attempt at a compliment, believe it or not. Perhaps I need more practice in making them.’

‘No, it was my fault. I did not...that is, I’m not accustomed...’ She faltered mid-sentence, wondering how to explain that she was used to a different type of comment, from men anyway. ‘I mean, both of my cousins are so beautiful...’

‘I suppose so...’ his brow creased as if he didn’t understand quite what she was trying to say ‘...in their own way. As are you, Lady Constance.’

‘Me?’ She was too astonished to even try to conceal it. Beautiful wasn’t one of the words men generally called her. They were usually far more descriptive... ‘But you scowled when I came in. I thought you were disappointed.’

He winced. ‘It’s a failing of mine, I’m afraid. I often don’t know I’m doing it, but it was not my intention to scowl. Believe me, I was not disappointed.’

‘Oh.’ She stared at him speechlessly for a few moments. Hard though it was to believe, he looked and sounded sincere—and he’d said she was beautiful...

‘In any case...’ she cleared her throat, trying to distract attention away from the pink blush she could feel spreading up her neck and over her cheeks ‘I apologise for what I said. I will try to be less...uncomfortable.’

‘As will I.’

His gaze was so direct that she turned her face towards the window, willing her cheeks to cool down as they lapsed into a pensive silence. It had started to rain again and the steady patter of water on the roof and against the windowpane seemed to echo all around them.

‘Your uncle is a good man.’ Her husband—it was still hard to think of him as Matthew—spoke again after a few minutes.

‘He’s been very kind.’

‘Your mother was his sister, I understand?’

‘Yes. They were always very close.’

‘What about your cousins? Are you close to them, too?’

‘Oh, yes—’ she smiled with enthusiasm ‘—they’re more like brothers and sisters to me. I love them all dearly, especially Isabella.’

‘I’m glad.’ He gave a satisfied-looking nod. ‘I hoped that would be the case.’

‘You hoped...?’ The words drew her up short. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Just that I thought you’d prefer living here to Wintercott.’

She stared at him in confusion. Wintercott was his family’s main residence, but what did that have to do with anything? ‘I don’t understand.’

He shrugged as if the subject wasn’t particularly important. ‘There was some discussion about where you should live after our marriage. My father suggested his household, but I thought you’d prefer being with your own family. I didn’t want you to be lonely, so I asked your uncle to take you home with him when I left England.’ He nodded again. ‘I’m glad that I made the right decision.’

‘Oh...’ She pursed her lips, resisting the urge to start another argument by asking why she’d had to leave Lacelby at all. It was true that given the choice between his father and her uncle then she would have chosen the latter, but neither had been what she’d really wanted. Even so, the fact that he’d put some thought into where she might be happiest made her resentment diminish a little.

‘You wanted to remain at Lacelby?’ His expression shifted suddenly, turning to one of comprehension. ‘That’s what you meant about being able to manage an estate at fourteen?’

She hesitated. No doubt her aunt would tell her to deny it and say that whatever decision he’d made had been the right one, but he looked as if he genuinely wanted to know the truth. Besides, she wasn’t that good a liar.

‘It was my home. When I agreed to marry you, it never occurred to me that I’d have to leave.’

‘Ah...’ he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees ‘...so that’s why you’re angry with me?’

‘I’m not...’ She bit her tongue on the lie. ‘Yes. You never asked me what I wanted. I wasn’t a child and I could have stayed and managed Lacelby on my own. My mother raised me to do it.’

‘Indeed?’

‘Yes!’ She narrowed her eyes at his sceptically raised eyebrow. ‘She ran the whole estate for months on end whenever my father was away on campaign. He called her his rock. She didn’t need any help and she taught me everything she knew.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I didn’t want to be sent away.’

‘I see. Were you homesick, then?’

‘Of course! I’d just lost my parents...’ She faltered, trying to force away the hollow feeling in her chest, the hole that threatened to open up and swallow her whenever she thought of her mother and father.

‘It must have been hard for you losing them both so suddenly.’ His voice was softer and more sympathetic than she would have imagined it could be. ‘It was some kind of illness, I understand?’

‘A fever, yes.’ She could feel his gaze on her face. ‘It was during one of my father’s visits home and swept through Lacelby like a fire. So many of us had it. I survived, but my parents died within a few days of each other.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I still miss them. Even after five years, some wounds do not heal.’

‘True.’ There was a hint of some powerful emotion in his voice. ‘And leaving Lacelby made it worse?’

‘I thought that my heart would break,’ she answered truthfully. ‘I’d had a happy childhood and my home was all that I had left of my parents. The day I rode away, I thought I’d never be happy again. I’ve been homesick ever since.’

‘But surely you’ve visited?’ He sounded faintly surprised.

‘No. My uncle thought that your father might not appreciate the intrusion.’

‘Did my father say so?’

She jumped, alarmed by the sudden note of anger in his voice. ‘Perhaps... I don’t know.’

He leaned back in the window seat, the lines between his brows deepening. ‘Forgive me, I ought to have considered how hard leaving your home might be for you. To be honest, I assumed you were grieving and that your family were best placed to take care of you, but perhaps I ought to have allowed you more time. That said, I stand by my decision. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving you at Lacelby alone. I did—do—believe that fourteen is too young to manage an estate.’

‘You still could have asked.’

The retort was out before she could stop herself, but to her surprise, he only nodded.

‘You’re right, I should have. It was a difficult time in my life, too, but that’s no excuse. My only defence is that I thought I was doing the right thing. If it made you unhappy, then I’m truly sorry.’

‘Thank you.’

She leaned back, too, grateful for that concession at least. Much as she still resented his presumption that she’d been too young to manage Lacelby on her own, she had to admit she would have been lonely growing up without her cousins. He was right about that and he had apologised, and at least they weren’t butting heads any more. In fact, now she thought of it, aside from one brief outburst about his father, he’d barely scowled since they’d sat down! She tilted her head to one side, regarding him with new eyes. Somehow they’d gone from arguing to understanding in a few minutes. His whole manner seemed to have mellowed, including his voice which now sounded as deep and smooth as gold velvet. Somehow it took the edge off his sternness and made her feel inexplicably light-headed.

‘Perhaps I ought to have asked more questions about our marriage, too.’ He met her gaze again, his own faintly troubled. ‘I was told that you’d given your consent willingly.’

‘I did.’ It was her turn to frown. ‘That is, I knew my position was a precarious one and it wasn’t safe for me to remain unmarried. If I’d been born a boy or had a brother, then it would have been different, but as it was...’ She shrugged. ‘It was made clear to me that an heiress cannot remain unwed.’

‘You did not really wish to marry, then?’

‘No.’ She bit her lip, wondering if she were taking honesty a little too far, though fortunately he didn’t look angry. ‘I would have preferred to wait, to choose a husband for myself when I came of age, but I knew there was no choice.’

‘No choice...’ He repeated the words softly. ‘In that case, I’ll offer you one now, a way out if you still want it.’

‘A way out?’ Her body seemed to jerk upright of its own volition. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Since our marriage hasn’t yet been consummated, it could still be annulled.’

She was vaguely aware of her mouth dropping open. An annulment? It was almost impossible to believe that he was offering her freedom so easily and yet he appeared to be serious. ‘You would agree to that?’

‘If it’s what you truly wanted then, yes, I would. Since I ought to have consulted you five years ago, the least I can do is consult you now.’

‘But what about my fortune? My land?’

His eyes crinkled at the corners as one side of his mouth curved upwards. ‘Your opinion of me really is low. You think me a liar and a fortune hunter?’

‘No!’ She shook her head quickly. ‘I did not mean...’

‘It’s all right. I can see why you might think so. Our marriage was a practical arrangement, after all. But the truth is...’ he made a faintly apologetic gesture ‘...I have bigger concerns.’

‘Oh.’ She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to such a statement. She seemed to feel equal parts grateful, surprised and hypocritically offended. ‘So if I wanted an annulment...’

‘You would only need ask. I would not oppose it.’

He lifted a hand to stifle a yawn and she felt a fresh stab of offence. Bigger concerns was bad enough, but now she was apparently boring him, too! Then again... She leaned closer, belatedly noticing the dark shadows around his eyes... He looked as if he hadn’t slept properly in days. Neither had she, though she doubted it was for the same reasons. It was hard to imagine him feeling anxious about seeing her. Especially when he had bigger concerns...

‘Forgive me.’ He ran a hand over his jaw. ‘It’s been a long month.’

‘Then you should rest. We have another hour or so before the banquet.’ She gestured towards the daybed. ‘Sleep. It might be a long evening otherwise.’

‘True—’ he threw a longing look towards the cushions ‘—but I would not wish to insult you, my lady.’

‘You would not be.’ No more than he just had anyway... ‘I’d appreciate some time to think over your offer.’

‘Then I’d be happy to oblige.’ He made his way across the room, collapsing enthusiastically on top of the coverlet and folding his arms behind his head with a sigh of satisfaction. ‘That’s better. Although if you want an annulment then the less time we spend alone together, the better.’

‘I know, but if either of us leaves now...’

‘We’ll both be besieged with questions. Good point.’ He sighed again and closed his eyes. ‘In that case, wake me up when you come to a decision.’

‘I will.’ She took one last look at him and then turned her face back to the window. ‘Matthew.’