At least he was provoking a reaction from her. If she lacked any interest in him, she would have simply ignored him, but even her silences were pointed. He had her full attention, and he intended to use it.
“I have grand plans for our wedding night,” he said, knowing full well he was stoking her fury.
She turned such a delightful shade of red as she turned on him and yanked him close. “Have you forgotten your promise so soon?” she grumbled in a low voice.
“Careful, wife. Your parents are watching.”
She glanced at her mother who was indeed directing a disapproving look her way. Isabella turned back to him with an entirely false, ingratiating smile.
“And no, I have not forgotten my promise at all,” he said quietly with a bland smile. “Have you forgotten yours? You promised to let me woo you. I won’t lay a finger on you without your leave, I swear, but I do plan to make my case. And youdidsay you would hear me out.”
Her sharp exhale at his words was all the acquiescence he was likely to get. Fortunately, these were only the opening strikes and parries in their tender war.
“I will find a way to win your heart,” he said as they stepped into the relative warmth of the great hall and made their way to the head table. “Every castle has a weakness. Every armor has a chink.”
“In faith, you are unbearable,” she said as he led her to her place at the table, pulling out her tall-backed chair for her, and took a seat beside her.
“I would never ask you to bear me. Horses are made to bear, and you, my lady, are above such menial labor.” He winked at her, and the ice that was in her gaze turned to pure fire.
“Very true, my lord, and above you too.”
That sent his mind to dangerous places. “I would very much like you above me while I bear you. Perhaps you would like a true wedding night after all?”
“You are an ass.”
“Then ride me.”
“Never. You are not a worthy mount.”
“Certainly not. I am a wicked beast.” The thoughts running through his mind with each lash of her tongue were getting worse and worse. The mental picture of her atop him, taking her pleasure, was too much to bear. Fortunately, they were seated, or he might have embarrassed himself. “Tame me, Isabella. Take me in hand and show me the error of my ways.”
The effect of his words on her was no less profound. She was a glorious bonfire before him—flushed, dark eyes sparkling, lips parted as her tongue darted out to lick them. She might be spitting mad, but there was something more there, he would swear it. Despite herself, she was responding to him.
“I’ll do no such thing. Your wit is too dull. I could not teach you,” she said, and turned away to grab her goblet, hand shaking just a touch as she drank deeply.
He watched the column of her throat work with intense interest, wishing he could kiss and nibble his way up her neck and nip on her ear. “And yet sharp enough to score a hit. You’re blushing, my lady.”
“You are mistaken. It is merely the red light of the fire.” She fanned herself with her hand. “Is it warm in here?”
They were interrupted by Lord Ferdinand. “I hope my daughter is behaving herself,” he said, taking a seat beside Martin at the center of the table. “I did warn you she can bewillful at times.” He cast a warning glance at his daughter, who composed her face into a careful blank. “You wouldn’t want us to report back to Lady Eleanor that you’re defying her will, would you?”
“I obey Her Grace in all things,” she said, looking for all the world like a demure and obedient daughter.
What a pity! He much preferred her fiery side. It was a waste to hide such a magnificent flame beneath a bushel of obedience. “She is everything I hoped for in a wife and more.”
“Well, best of luck to you, lad. Don’t let looks deceive you. She may appear sweet and innocent right now.” Indeed, she was a portrait of a demure damsel beside him. “But she has studied the art of subtle machination at court, and I dare say you’ve already discovered her temper. She has learned at the knees of the two most devious women I know, my wife and my queen. Don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.”
“Don’t listen to my husband,” said Isabella’s mother with a withering glance at Lord Ferdinand. “Isabella knows where her duty lies and the consequences of disobedience. She wouldn’t dare step out of line and disappoint Her Grace.”
Before Martin could respond, servants arrived, spooning pottage into bread trenchers. It was a hearty meal, if not particularly elegant. There was nothing to suggest this was a wedding feast as opposed to an everyday dinner.
His poor wife. What must it have been like to grow up in such a cold, uncaring family? They were the opposite of his own. His mother and father had doted on him and his siblings and raised them with the utmost care. Had she ever experienced the warmth of love and acceptance? He suspected not from what he observed. No wonder she was so prickly and hostile.
He turned to find her deep in whispered conversation with a thin, frail young woman who he presumed to be her sister. Their murmurs were warm and animated. Perhaps there wassome love after all. It seemed she and her sister were close. He ate his lackluster pottage and let her chatter with her sister, uninterrupted. It warmed his heart to see her happy. He could only pray that he too could earn her trust and her smiles in time.
The meal concluded quickly with his new wife ignoring him completely. He didn’t mind. He could hardly begrudge her some moments of love and comfort with her sister, who she clearly doted on.
“Lord Ferdinand, you must toast the newlyweds,” the lady of the castle said to her husband, disdain dripping from every word. “Go on, you hapless meat sack,” she murmured in a low voice just loud enough for Martin to hear. “Do your duty, or do I have to prod you with my eating dagger?”
