“I did not!”
His eyes narrowed, as though he suspected she might not say words he liked, but he waited and listened.Melissande already saw that was his inclination.
“It was the wine,” she said.“The wine betrayed me and I forgot myself.I should never have accepted it from Berthe here.I indulged too much and that undermined my dignity.”She frowned.“But I did not feel its effects so greatly until dinner.”She remembering her enchanted cup, then looked at Quinn with newfound suspicion.“How curious that my cup was never empty.”
He looked discomfited and she guessed the truth.
“You ensured as much,” she said.“You wished me to be too besotted to avoid your touch.”
Quinn colored.“I thought the wine might ease your fears,” he said.“I thought you might be more at ease.”
Already he chose for her, assuming he knew her desire and her need better than she.Melissande found that a terrifying portent.“You should have asked me.We should have discussed the matter together.”
“You had already been drinking wine,” he said.“I smelled it upon your breath.I did not think any discussion would be reasoned as a result.”
“I saw my fears eased.It was not your responsibility to choose for me.”
“Of course, it is my responsibility to choose for you,” Quinn replied, his voice rising.“You are my wife!”
“I will not be your chattel!”
His eyes flashed and his voice rose higher.“Recall, my lady, that both of us had the same intent last eve, for we had both agreed to Tulley’s terms.”
Melissande retreated behind the table with the pitcher of water, hating how she wished to touch him even in this moment.She could just reach up and ease the crease from between his brows with a fingertip and perhaps dismiss his annoyance.That she wished to do as much was a treacherous indication of his power over her.“You thought the wine might grant you an easy conquest.”
“There could be no easy conquest when you are bride,” Quinn replied.He cast his hands skyward.“Zounds, woman, is any matter simple with you?”
“Of course!”
“You were concerned about the pain,” he continued, then made a fist.“If you had clenched, the deed might well have hurt you.I tried to make matters right, Melissande!”
“You should have spoken to me.”
“You should have spoken to me.”
“How could I discuss such intimacy with you, a veritable stranger?”Melissande demanded.
“I am your husband!”
“And still there are matters that are delicate...”
“If you do not discuss carnal union with me, who will you discuss it with?”he demanded, his eyes blazing.
“There is naught amiss with decorum and dignity.There is naught amiss with granting value to wit and intellect and skill...”
“There is naught amiss with passion between man and wife.”
“You will not have my passion, sir!”
Quinn chuckled, curse him.“I already have it, my lady,” he murmured in that low tone that still weakened her knees.
Melissande was more than halfway in his thrall already and she knew it, so she struck back.“Do you always ply women with wine to lure them to your bed?”
Quinn’s eyes flashed fire again, his teasing mood banished.Indeed, he swore with a vehemence that made Melissande suddenly afraid.She feared she had pushed him too far and would see all too soon that he did resemble his father.
To her astonishment, though, he abruptly turned and crossed the room.He flung open the shutters, admitting a cold wind, and glared into the mist of the morning.Annossy’s tower was obscured by the fog on this day and the air was chilly.Melissande did not dare complain, for she halfway feared he would fling her to the courtyard below.But Quinn folded his arms across his chest and tapped his toe, as if he counted.
“The wine cannot make you act as you would not,” he said finally, without glancing her way.He bit off the words and spoke with precision, a sure sign that he was angry.
