“We did not know he had a daughter.”
“So I am told,” she said. “And that was deliberate.”
He glanced at her. “Why?”
“Because no English warlord will take a warrior woman seriously,” she said. “We thought it better to spread rumors of a second son.”
“This has been going on for years.”
She nodded. “It has,” she said. “I saw my first battle at fourteen years of age.”
“That is very young, even for a man.”
“I was born to it.”
“So was I,” he said as he shoved bread into his mouth. He chewed a few times before continuing. “I suppose my father told you of the marriage plans.”
“He did,” she said, watching him eat. “He must have someone in mind.”
“He does.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You?” she repeated. “But… surely not you!”
“Why not?”
“Because… because you are old enough to be my father,” she said, her tone quickly rising. “Moreover, you are his heir. He would not marry you to a woman who could not bring wealth or breeding to a marriage. I know how the English do things.”
He swallowed the bite in his mouth, a lazy smile spreading across his lips. “I am old enough to be your father if I was a child when you were born,” he said. “Christ, woman, how old do you think I am?”
Elle was off balance and sinking fast. This handsome knight, who had only grown more handsome during the course of the conversation—though she absolutely refused to admit that to herself—was to be her husband. The heir to Hereford and Worcester, the largest and perhaps most prestigious earldom on the marches, if not in all of England. He was an earl already, however, as the Earl of Leominster. Elle had grown up surrounded by politics and battles, so she fully understood the worth of Hereford and Worcester, and of earldoms and their properties.
The impact was not lost on her.
“I amnota suitable wife,” she said, shaking her head emphatically and turning away. “Your father is mad if he thinks so.”
Curtis had to admit that he was enjoying her resistance. He also had to admit that beneath that dirt and sweat and filth, he suspected she was a pretty little thing. She had eyes the color of cornflowers, so bright that it was as if they had their own light source. They were beautiful. But her face and hair were smeared with dirt and grime, so it was difficult to get a sense of her beauty.
And her voice… There was a sweet quality to it, but it could also be quite loud when she wanted it to be. He sensed that she had been raised around men and spent her life around men, meaning she behaved like one. There wasn’t anything ladylike about her. But if she were to become his wife, he was going to have to change that. Oddly, he wasn’t all that opposed to it.
He rather enjoyed a challenge.
Even one of this magnitude.
“You’ve not answered my question,” he said. “How old do you think I am?”
She rolled her eyes. “As old as the moon, as young as the hills—what does it matter?” she said. “Do you understand when I say that I am not a suitable wife?”
“I understand.”
“And?”
“Andwhat?” he said. “My father has made his decision. There is nothing either of us can do about it, so I want you to think very carefully about what happens from this point forward. I intend to be polite and respectful of you and your beliefs. You will get no grief from me. But you… you will dictate my actions, lady. You must decide how you want to build this relationship we are forced to assume. Do you want it built on battle? Or do you want it built on mutual understanding?”
Elle was coming to realize that nothing she could say was going to change any of this. Oddly, he didn’t seem horribly opposed to it, or, at least, he was hiding his reservation better than she was. He remained calm while she was about to blow the top of her head off. However, given her brief interaction with both Curtis and his father, she suspected that kind of resistance wouldn’t do any good. She’d exhaust herself and still be forced to go through with it, either with Curtis or with another man she’d never met. She might be worse off than she was with the heir. Not only was she defeated, she was being punished by marrying her enemy.
