It also baffled her into rosy checked confusion that, once such an act was discovered, couples could pull themselves away from the temptation. Perhaps it was simply the change rendered in her husband from the gruff, ill-tempered man she had first encountered, to the passionate lover she was enjoying. From the chilly reserved Silverton, to the dear, kind Gregory. It was not just his beard that had been trimmed and altered, but beneath that surface, there was a new man emerging. Maeve hoped it was true, and yet she feared she was being hopelessly naïve.
Climbing out of the bed and moving across their suite, which had become their own little sanctuary against the rest of the world, Maeve lifted a silken robe from an armchair and wrapped it around her shoulders as she looked down at the newspaper which had been brought up. Gregory had vanished with a quick kiss, promising to return soon.
Her fingers rested on the paper’s date, marvelling that it was the fourteenth of February. She had clearly completely lost track of time. And she realised she didn’t care. A silly smile played over her face as she abandoned the newspaper to drift over, with whimsical happiness, to pick out her dress for the day. Although why she bothered, she did not quite know, since Gregory much preferred for her to be in a state of undress.
Selecting a recently purchased gown, Maeve rang for her maid. By the time Betty was done with her, Maeve was clothed in a fashionable gown of soft pink with an amethyst-coloured pelisse, and her hair arranged neatly. The mystery of Gregory’s whereabouts was beginning to bother her. She might have sent Betty or a manservant out, had the suite door not opened at that moment to reveal three servants carrying several bouquets of flowers—tulips, roses, asters, and magnolias—which were placed in the room.
Unable to help herself, Maeve jumped to her feet, her hands clasped and her eyes filling with tears. The suite was rapidly filled up, with every surface occupied by bright, romantic Valentine’s Day flowers.
Gregory strode in. Maeve had made herself a promise that only at night would she think of him with his Christian name, and during the day, when they needed to be sensible, she would use his title. But he was so handsome, with the sun peeking through the curtains hitting off his dark curls, his aristocratic face eager for her reaction, that he had to be Gregory in that moment.
She let out a giggle as he plucked a large stem from a collection and offered it out to her. “You mentioned you were never previously sent a valentine.”
Lifting the red rose to her nose, Maeve drew in its heavenly sweet scent as she looked coquettishly over the petals at him. “You remembered?” It had been a good week ago, she recalled, and only said in passing.
Spinning around on the spot where she stood, she took in every beautiful one of them, until Gregory came up behind her, wrapped his hands around her waist, and pulled her into his arms. “I might not be with you for another Valentine’s Day, so I thought I would buy enough to tide you over the years.” He looked so proud of himself, as if he had found a solution for something that should have no answer.
Never forget, she told herself as she tried to chase away the wistful daydreams.He may just be doing this to fulfil the dearest wish of his heart, of having an heir.She clung to that fact lest his eager kisses, and the feel of his fingers moving over her body with increasing skill, make her forget this crucial fact. She was being used, she told herself, and that wasn’t sweet or lovely, no matter how delicious it felt. But it was hard to remember that when her husband felt as if he were purposeless in being so kind and so attentive. Especially when he kissed her with such absorbed passion that she could no longer think at all.
With a charming smile, Gregory ordered the servants away and picked Maeve up in his arms, carrying her back to bed.
On days like this one, Maeve reasoned she could allow herself the luxury of ignoring the convenience of their union and simply enjoy their marriage.
* * *
All too soon,their sweet honeymoon came to a crashing halt. One morning, Silverton woke her up, and Maeve rolled over to see him already dressed, a grim look on his handsome face as he looked at her. “Please rouse yourself.”
He was on edge. Angry. That much was clear. Maeve’s eyes went to the desk, and she wondered if he had received a bad piece of news. It was unfortunate, as she had hoped today was the day they would be able to visit her sister, Grace, and inform her of their marriage.
“What has happened?”
“Please put your clothes on.” He was short. With quick steps, he bustled forward and handed her a dressing gown. “I don’t wish to be distracted.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You know why we wed.”
“You are dying…”
“Yes.” He was brooding, his face flushed, and he looked as if he was truly sickening.
“Please sit down, calm yourself.” Maeve climbed out of bed, pulling the nightgown loosely around herself as she went. Silverton’s eyes flared with awareness as he saw how close she was to him.
“Many men in my position”—he moved away from her, deliberately putting distance between them—“would not bother marrying.”
“But you need an heir.” Maeve sighed. She did not understand why it mattered so greatly to have this explained to her again and again. She wanted to suggest that now, since it was the end of February, there might be a chance for a fine weather day, perhaps even a picnic. Why was he determined to be miserable when joy might be found—
“I need an heir because the man who is due to inherit from me is a monster,” Silverton snapped.
“I know many nobles do not care for their cousins—”
“My heir is my twin brother. He is wanted for treason, murder, rape—the worst crimes a man can commit.”
“What?” Maeve asked, not fully understanding what was occurring, or why he had kept something that terrible from her.
“I cannot keep this secret from you any longer. This is why I so urgently need an heir. You deserve the truth.”
“He can’t inherit if he’s committed those crimes,” Maeve said. This was the real reason they had wed. It poisoned the entire arrangement, and the fact that he shielded her from this terrible truth hurt her. Terribly. More importantly, it endangered her. It was not just thetonwho might titter at their marriage. There was a man who would want to hurt her physically and any baby she bore. If he found her.
