Huffing a harsh breath, she said, "The man was vile and assaulted me with no reason. I did nothing wrong."
"True." His grip on her waist eased. "You defended yourself well."
"So you worried for me?" She hadn't realized just how desperately she wanted that assurance. Still, Royce's heavy-handed tactics had grown tiresome. Despite his avowals of trust, he still possessed doubt about her loyalty. Yet, when he set her down, turning her, his intense scrutiny revealed his concern.
"Aye, Gillian, I worried for you."
Her heart felt lighter. These rare moments when he showed her affection gave her hope. When he wasn't acting an arrogant beast, he was a husband she was glad to have. 'Twas a shame the beast ruled his actions more than his heart. She lifted her chin.
"Yet, you still distrust me."
He shook his head. "You don't understand the importance of appearance."
"No, I don't. You are telling me you must act like you think I'm a traitor for other people's benefit? It makes no sense to me, and to be honest, I think it utterly stupid!"
To her surprise, he laughed, throwing his head back. She gaped at him, wondering how he possibly found humor in this situation. When he hugged her tight, her head spun faster than ever.
"You are a Wildcat, a fitting mate for the Panther," he said when his laughter faded. "More people should follow your way of thinking."
So many emotions raged through her, but surprise and happiness overwhelmed the rest. He actually sounded proud of her. The small flame of hope grew brighter.
He sobered, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at him. "Do not forget that as my wife, you are a target for my enemies. Never give anyone an opportunity to ..."
"Yes, I understand." She met his stare evenly.
"Do you truly?"
"More than you will ever know."
His eyes narrowed before he gave a curt nod. "Good. Now, I believe you have a task to see to?"
He arched an eyebrow and released her, returning to the tub. She shook her head, even though her blood heated at the thought of touching him again.
Chapter Eighteen
The festive sounds of the musicians did little to ease Gillian's sour mood. Exhaustion, brought on by the journey, followed by her husband's intense and passionate lovemaking, served to make her long for her bed. Instead, she sat amidst the king's welcome feast, while Royce all but ignored her while discussing strategy with Edward.
She glanced around the room. Wine and ale flowed freely, with many of the guests sotted. Was this what court life was like? She'd seen many glances cast her way, as curious people wanted to see the Panther's bride. She wished she'd been seated at one of the lower tables; she might not feel like one of the roasted pigs on display in the center of the hall.
Continuing her study, her cheeks heated. In almost every corner, a couple appeared entwined together in intimacy, each pair more wicked than the last. Across the hall, a gentleman even went so far as to lift a lady's skirts, while she laughed and slapped his hands away. This wild chaos was nothing like the feasts at Lyndon.
"So this is the Panther's bride."
Gillian looked up into the disdainful blue gaze of the woman she had seen with Royce earlier. Anger stole her breath momentarily, as the woman perused her clothing, her expression mocking. Gillian's jaw tightened. She lifted her chin.
"Aye, I am Countess of Montchester. And you?" She kept her voice even. She would show no timidity in front of this woman who reminded her of a rabid dog, her eyes shining with menace.
"This is Lady Joan FitzOsborn." Royce's words drew Gillian's attention. Finally, her husband paid her some notice. Stung it had taken this woman's presence for him to speak to her, she kept her gaze firmly on Lady Joan.
"I understand this is your first time away from your home." Though Lady Joan directed the words to Gillian, her eyes remained focused on Royce. Without looking at her husband, Gillian lifted her hand and placed it upon his on the table. Her ring glittered in the light. She held back a smile as both her husband and Lady Joan turned their attention to her.
"Aye, but with my husband by my side, wherever we are feels like home."
One perfectly arched blonde eyebrow lifted over Lady Joan's eye. Underneath her hand, Royce's trembled and he coughed suddenly. She never pulled her gaze from Lady Joan.
"Aren't you lucky?"
Joan's mocking words inflamed Gillian's simmering anger. Before she could speak, Royce squeezed her fingers.
