Wendell appeared to fill their glasses with wine and Willow wasted no time in draining hers, motioning for more.
“Why haven’t you broached the subject of your sister?” He took a sip of wine, his gaze watchful. “Pleaded her case in her absence?”
The question was so blunt Willow almost rocked back in her chair. He wanted to talk about Hollynow? She wasn’t at all sure if she was ready for that battle yet. Holly was still in hiding. Willow had time.
“Why have you not pressed me to read your stuffy rules?” Willow countered.
“And deprive you of the utter vexation on my features when you inevitably break them?”
“I’m not sure I appreciate your newfound humor.”
“Not at all my character, I agree.”
Nervous laughter bubbled up through her throat. “Next, you will tell me that you are giving our marriage the benefit of the doubt.”
“Perhaps I already am.” Ambrose lifted his glass to salute her. “To prosperity.”
She raised her own. “Prosperity.”
He swirled his drink in hand, tilting his head to the side. “How do you propose we settle the matters between us?”
Keep on romancing me with swooping kisses, to start.
“I hadn’t thought you’d compromise,” Willow admitted. “With your rules and anger for my sister.”
“I might. If I understood the reason you married me.”
This again.
She sent him her most innocent look. “What happened for you to become such a bloodhound on the subject?”
“You happened.”
“Me?”
“Do I have another wife?”
He sounded so put out Willow laughed.
Then she sobered. “Very well, I suppose there is no reason not to tell you.” Except her fear that he’d judge her too harshly for it, that he wouldn’t understand, that he didn’t want children after all. “I wished to become with child.”
His eyes widened, and a flash of shock crossed his features. “You married me . . . to become with child.”
“Yes.” She emphasized her answer with a nod.
He settled back into his chair and regarded her with an unfathomable expression. His eyes were dark pools, impossible to read.
What was he thinking?
Her nerves pushed the next words out of her mouth. “Shocking, I know, especially given how I then proceeded to bar you from my bedroom.” She laughed nervously. His expression shifted then, but she still couldn’t read it. “But in truth, I’ve always wanted children and there you were, standing at the altar, and I—”
“It’s not shocking,” he interrupted. “Just . . . unexpected.”
“Why? Did you think I had some other devious motivation?”
“I do not believe you to be devious.” The corners of his mouth lifted. “An opportunist, perhaps, but not devious.”
She lifted a shoulder. It was a fair assessment. “I suppose I am that.”
