“Aye.” He held up his right hand and she could see the silver wedding band flashing on the third finger. “Gaston retrieved it for me. I would not leave the field until he found it.”
“Your hand?”
“My ring.”
The man had just lost a hand in a horrendous battle and all he was worried about was retrieving his wedding ring. It was the only thing he carried on his person that his wife had given to him and Alixandrea was touched beyond words by his respect for that little silver band.
“I would have bought you another,” she said softly.
“It would not have been the same.”
She gazed up at him, her eyes wet. The frenzy of their reunion began to settle as she reached up to touch his face once again. She could not stop touching him, as if repeatedly convincing herself that he was real.
“You do not seem surprised that I already knew about your hand,” she murmured.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I did not doubt that Mark would tell you no matter how much I told him not to. The man cannot keep a secret to save his life.” The hand that was on her arm moved to her belly. “Speaking of secrets, how are you feeling?”
Her mouth flew open. “He told you!”
“I told you that he could not keep a secret.” His eyes twinkled as his hand drifted over the gently rounded mound. “He blurted it out the moment I entered the gates. I ran all the way from the ward just to see you.”
She smiled, seeing the obvious joy in his expression. “Then you are pleased.”
He leaned down, kissing her so sweetly that the tears returned. She put her hands on his face, sobbing softly, relishing the feel of his lips over her cheeks.
“I have not the words to describe the joy in my heart or my love for you,” he murmured. “I am humbled, Lady Wellesbourne. Truly, deeply humbled. And Aunt Livia will be pleased.”
She laughed, a joyous sound in the midst of her tears. Her arms were wrapped around him as if to never let him go and she squeezed tight. They lay there for a small eternity, his lips against hers, his hand moving up her belly, reacquainting himself with her delicious body. It had been far too long. But more than her touch or the physicality of their relationship, he had missed her wit and charm and companionship. There was so much he wanted to tell her.
“Much has happened since we saw each other last, husband,” she said as if she could read his mind. “There is much to say.”
“Indeed.” He shifted so that they lay side by side on the pillow, their faces an inch apart. His blue eyes were soft on her. “Much that you may already know, I was told.”
“Did Mark tell you about Lovell’s missive?”
“He did. But I had already heard about it through my sources in London.”
Her bronze eyes grew intense. “Why did you not send word yourself? You promised that you would. Why did I have to hear these things from Lovell?”
He sighed, touching her cheek. “Because I was incapacitated with this wound after the battle. I lay unconscious from blood loss for several days. Mark did not tell you that detail, did he?”
She looked horrified. “He did not. Oh, Matthew, I….”
He put his fingers on her lips to quiet her. “It is of little matter. But it took nearly two weeks for me to feel well enough to move about.”
“You still could have sent word.”
He was remorseful. “You are correct. I could have. And I would beg your forgiveness for not contacting you as soon as I was able. Believe me, many a time I had a scribe begin a missive, every day in fact, but I was unsure what to say or how to tell you what had happened. I wanted to tell you personally, but I was not well enough to travel. I just did not feel as if I could tell you all that I needed to in a missive. I had to tell you face to face.”
“But you sent Mark.”
“Just as I was preparing to return home, the king summoned me. I knew that I could not delay any longer and sent Mark ahead to tell you that I was alive and would soon return.”
Her gaze was steady, without the earlier tears. “Then what Lovell told us is true.”
“It is.”
“But why, Matt? The White Lord of Wellesbourne is sworn to Richard and the bitter enemy of Henry Tudor. Why did you turn?”
