“I must open the missive first.”
He gestured for her to do as much, so watchful that she felt she entertained a powerful predator. A great cat lounged in her chamber, perhaps, prepared to pounce upon her and claim what he believed to be his due.
Her hands shook as she opened the missive. Catherine had written out what had to be part of the volume she had in her possession. Patience read it, then cleared her throat and straightened. “Here. You see? I should demand a secret of you,” she said, then read the passage aloud before Arthur could respond.
* * *
Patience could not realizehow very alluring she was. Arthur had never seen a lady so lovely. Her unbound hair cascaded over her shoulders and gleamed in the light of the fire. It was the hue of honey, filled with lights of gold, and so lustrous that he wanted to bury his hands in it. Her lips were ruddy and the neckline of her dress slightly askew, the sight of her neck and shoulder reminding him of the sweet taste of her skin. He had felt her shiver at his touch and easily recalled the feel of her nipple tightening to a bud beneath his hand. He had sensed her capitulation and yearned for it.
Her trepidation, however, could not be mistaken. He was certain the reading of the missive was a delay. What did she fear? Him? Pleasure? He did not know but he wanted to defend her more than he had desired anything.
He was so snared in his admiration that he did not immediately understand her words.
“Upon the matter of secrets…”Patience read. “No deed creates a stronger bond between lovers than the confession of a secret. A secret is often, by its very nature, a matter of tremendous personal importance, so the sharing of it with any other being implies a profound trust. The secret once revealed also creates a bond between confessor and recipient, one that is not readily compromised. Thus, I can only encourage any lady reading this volume to consider the possibility of her beloved having a secret, and thence to contrive to learn it. This is not, it must be noted, in order to use this secret as a threat, for that would be a breach of the entire marvel of love, but instead to gain greater understanding of the hidden depths of the lover’s nature. We each have details of ourselves, dreams and visions, history and secrets, that we surrender to few others, if any at all—to become the custodian of another’s secret is the sweetest burden of all.”She lowered the missive, her gaze rising to his. “I would have a secret of you, sir, before we proceed.”
She might have been a sphinx demanding the answer to a riddle at a crossroads. Her gaze was steady, her eyes darker than was typical. She stood straight and did not blink, challenging him to offer what she desired.
“A secret?” Arthur echoed.
“You confessed earlier that you had many of them.”
“Several, to be sure, but that is not many.”
“Then offer me one, as a sign of good faith.”
The very prospect filled Arthur with agitation. “I see no reason to burden you thus, Patience.”
“Save that I have asked you to. You did promise to share your secrets with me, which is why we wed. I ask for only one on this night, before our match is consummated and our joined future sealed.”
But the last thing Arthur wished to do was surrender a secret. He was not in the habit of confiding in anyone, and he knew that until their match was consummated, their shared future was not guaranteed. “In the morning,” he countered, but Patience shook her head.
“No,” she said with resolve. “It must be now, and it must be a secret shared with no one else. You must show me that you desire this match, and you must do it with a deed instead of a word, since words come so readily to you.”
“You ask a great deal, Patience, and for what cause? Are you afraid to keep your pledge to me?” He kept his tone light but she did not smile.
“What I fear is that you think this marriage is a diversion and a game, another wager that may or may not yield the results you desire. We have an agreement that I fear you mean to break.”
“Patience! We are agreed that we will publish books, or one book in particular.”
“And yet I see no indication that you intend to adhere to that agreement.” She lifted her chin, her eyes blazing in challenge, and clearly had no notion of how enticing she was. It was all Arthur could do to hold his ground instead of kissing her senseless.
She would despise him if he overwhelmed her objections by touch. He understood as much instinctively. Whatever his inclinations, he had to regain her alliance with logic.
“What indication should there be?” he asked. “We have only just exchanged our vows.”
“I would have hoped you might have changed your habits.”
“Why should I do as much?”
“Because your habits are wasteful.” Patience spoke with resolve. “To drink and gamble and cast money at every indulgence is wasteful. You have so many resources, and instead of using them for some good purpose, you seek only your own pleasure. You think solely of your own comfort and entertainment, when there is so much that could be achieved.”
Arthur knew he should tell her of the funds he had collected, but he could not. The confession stuck in his throat. He had never confided in anyone in his life for fear of betrayal. He knew he should trust Patience, but in his heart, he feared the result. Change could not be accomplished so quickly as that.
After all, it sounded as if his situation was perilous. What would she do?
It did not help that he was aroused and addled, that he wanted only to kiss her again and ensure her satisfaction, then gain his own.
Patience strode away from him when he did not reply, doubtless having no inkling of how tempting he found the sight of her nape, her loosened hair, the curve of her ankles. She could have been a siren sent to guarantee he lost this debate, for his thoughts were filled with the memory of her hair in his hands.
