He shook his head. “I shall say it again,” he said. “I am the most fortunate man in the world. When you become my wife, I shall be the proudest one as well.”
She smiled, once again flattered by his compliment. “I was wondering if we may speak on something,” she said. “I knowit may seem silly, but I have never been married before, and I was wondering what your expectations of me are. As your wife, I mean. Are there certain things you expect from me? Things you expect me to do? I see other married folk, like my parents, and I see how they are with each other. How each person has a role. I was wondering what you expect from us. From me.”
She was rambling on a little, as if she didn’t know, exactly, how to ask the question. But it was a legitimate question as far as he was concerned, and an astute one. The woman wanted to know what she was getting in to.
“That is a reasonable concern,” he said. “But there is no simple answer. Being my wife will require all of the usual things—tending my home, tending to me. We’ve not discussed this, but I have two daughters. Did you know that?”
Diara nodded. “Beckett told me,” she said. “Adalia and Dorian.”
“That is correct.”
“Are they fostering?”
“They were, but they returned home a couple of years ago,” he said. “They had been fostering since they were young, and I simply wanted them home, with me. They live at Pembridge.”
“Are they your chatelaines?”
Roi snorted. “Nay,” he said. “Though they are involved in the management of the house at my mother’s insistence. Dorian is fourteen years of age, and all she wants to do is tend to her horses. She has four of them. She cares nothing for managing a household, but my major-domo does require her to do chores. She must help manage the stores, and she hates every minute of it. Adalia, on the other hand, understands the duties more.”
“How old is she?”
“She has seen seventeen years.”
“Then she is a woman grown.”
Roi half nodded, half shrugged. “Nearly,” he said. “She is much more adept at doing things around the keep, but she has a terrible head for figures. I am constantly having to fix her sums. If there are ten onions in a bag, she’ll count seven. She always has. But she has other talents.”
“Is she betrothed?”
Roi shook his head. “She is not,” he said. “Men terrify her. She is of an age where I must think about seeking her a husband, but every time I bring it up, she weeps. She says she would rather go to a convent.”
“Is that a choice for her?”
“I suppose,” he said. “But I am hoping she outgrows this fear. I do not think it is normal for a lass to feel that way.”
“Mayhap she hasn’t met the right man yet.”
“Mayhap.”
The conversation lagged a little, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Roi was aware he hadn’t fully answered her question, so he reached out and took her hand. Holding it tightly, he began to walk again.
“As for you,” he said. “I suppose my expectations would be that we always try to understand one another, that we always be kind to one another, and that we always be truthful. A marriage is nothing without truth.”
Diara liked the feeling of her hand in his big, warm palm. It made her feel safe. “I will agree completely,” she said. “Sometimes the truth is difficult, but it is better to know than to not know. Nothing solid can be built on a foundation of deceit and secrets.”
“Very wise,” he said, smiling at her. “Who taught you such things?”
“I had to learn for myself.”
“Where?”
They were on to something she really didn’t want to talk about. She wasn’t sure how they got here, but she’d opened the door when she made her comment—I had to learn for myself.She supposed that she should tell him before someone else did. The man traveled in the first social circle and knew many warlords, including de Redvers. He hadn’t been oblivious to what his wife and daughters did to Diara, so she thought that perhaps it was time for a little of the truth she just spoke of and hope she didn’t offend him.
“You mentioned that you knew the House of de Redvers?” she said.
He nodded. “Of course.”
“Do you know the family well?”
