Her face was uncertain, the smile curving her lips a little strained. As though she did not know how to say what she wanted to say.
“Briar? Is something amiss, my angel?”
She shook her head, but her lips trembled.
“Briar,” he said, more loudly, “you are frightening me. Tell me, what is wrong?”
She put a finger against his cheek, smoothing the stubble that grew dark against his skin. “Nothing is wrong, Ivo. I want... I want to see your hand now. We are wed. Nothing will make me love you less. You must take off your glove.”
Shocked, he said nothing, just stared up at her. Take off his glove? Show her what Miles had done to his hand? It would be like bearing his soul. And then he remembered that he had already done that; she knew the worst of him already. What did one more thing matter?
“ ‘Tis not a pretty sight.”
She laughed and then bit her lip. “I don’t care about that, Ivo,” she assured him, reaching to take his glove in her own warm fingers. “I love you for what you are, and your hand, and all it means to you, is part of that.”
Love. She loved him. Aye, the love was there in her eyes. His Briar loved him, and she had wormed her way into his heart and his life, until she was his life. He could deny her nothing, and she knew it.
Keeping his eyes on hers, Ivo began briskly to unlace the glove, tugging hard on the leather ties. When that was done, he peeled back the leather, loosening it, and then pulling it from his hand.
Her eyes were still on his, as if despite her brave words she didn’t quite dare look down. And then her gaze slid away, toward his naked hand and the scarred, ugly mess that Miles had made of it. And Ivo realized he couldn’t bear to watch her, in case he saw the horrified rejection there.
There was silence. He felt dizzy with doubts, and turned away. “Jesu, Briar, say something!” he cried, his anguish plain in every word.
“Ivo,” she whispered, and her lips brushed soft and healing against his hurt flesh. “My love, my dearest love. Look at me.”
Slowly, he did so. She held his hand in hers, but he looked into her eyes. They were smiling, and there was no disgust in them, no horror and no pity. It was Briar and she was unafraid. He should have known she would accept his hand, just as she had accepted his past.
He sat up, pulling her against him, his mouth hard on hers. She gasped at the suddenness of his passion, but a moment later had relaxed into his kisses with perfect contentment.
“I love you, my angel,” Ivo whispered against her lips. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” she replied.
At that moment, Ivo knew his happiness was complete.
Chapter 16
Briar pushed away her crust and cheese. Breakfast was no longer a meal she enjoyed, but it was necessary to take a few mouthfuls of something, to settle her roiling stomach. She glanced about her at Lord Radulf’s household, which was barely stirring after yesterday’s celebrations.
Radulf and Lily were still abed, but Ivo had risen early to go with Reynard, Ethelred, and Sweyn to search an area of the city where runaways were wont to gather. Briar had been left to her own devices. Not that she minded, for while Miles roamed free they were not safe. She wanted Ivo’s brother captured as much as anyone.
Radulf had decided that both Briar and Mary would be safer under his roof, and Mary had gone to the cottage with Jocelyn and Odo to fetch some of their belongings. It was only after she had gone that Briar remembered she had not asked for Mary to bring her sword, hidden under her bed. She had carried the sword with her, sometimes concealed under her clothing, since she left Castle Kenton two years ago.
She did not intend to leave it behind now.
Besides, it had been a gift from her father, and so was precious to her. Nay, she could not leave it in the dwelling by the house to be stolen. It would take her but a moment to ride there and fetch it, and then she and Mary could return together.
Briar glanced at her crust again, but could not face it. There was no time like the present. Mayhap Ivo would be there when she returned. At the thought of Ivo, her body softened and burned, and she found herself smiling.
He loves me.
She hugged the knowledge to her heart, feeling supremely optimistic. Aye, he loved her, and all would be well. Radulf would find Miles and destroy him, and she and Ivo would live long lives without fear of what Miles might do.
Full of happiness, still smiling, Briar rose and went out to the stables to find a horse. In moments, she rode out into York.
Her cloak did not seem to warm her as it should. The day was bitter cold, the sky a steel gray without pity. The house reflected the colorless sky, while a few dippers, their feathers ruffled, floated disgruntled upon its surface.
Smoke trickled from the sagging roof of her old home. Mary had lit the fire, then. Briar hurried to dismount and tether her mount, thinking how warm it would be inside. The door opened to her touch, swinging back in the dim and shadowy room.
