He scowled. “Not at all. I bought new bedding to keep your mind off vermin.” He touched her cheek and softened his features. “And entirely on me.”
As if her mind could have possibly been on anything else. “Ugh.” She dabbed at his stomach. “It’s all over the sheet.”
“Do I look like I mind?”
“That’s vulgar.” She wrinkled her nose. “And a little bit vile.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Did I ever claim to be anything else?”
Her heart repeated its funny little squeeze. Whatever they must face, they’d face together.
Small pieces.
She’d make it work.
He reached over and plucked a rag from the bedside table. “Here—this is for the blood.” He tucked an arm behind his head. “Truthfully, I wouldn’t have cared if you’d been unchaste.”
She searched his gaze—no artifice, no deceit. “You said you wanted to tear my maidenhead.”
“Hubris. Primal nonsense.” He pursed his lips in an endearingly self-deprecating way. “If you’d told me you’d been indiscreet, do you think I would have wanted you any less?”
“I don’t know.” She hesitated. “You surprise me sometimes. I said you were incapable of being gentle. You just proved me wrong.”
“At tremendous cost, kitten.” He stretched. “I’m starved, by the way.”
She gazed at him thoughtfully. “Why do you always respond with a joke? Why can’t you just admit your good side?”
“I don’t have a good side—that’s just me reflecting you.”
“You can’t convince me any longer—I’ve been to Periwinkle Gate. They trust you there.”
A crease appeared between his brows. “Funny thing, trust.” He took her into his arms, placed a kiss against her brow, and yawned.
Intentionally, she suspected.
She could tell Rayne he was loyal and kind and good. At every step, he’d taken great care with her. And, thanks to the visit to the Gate, she’d seen him at ease and genuinely respected. But no matter what she said, he wouldn’t believe.
Trustwasa funny thing. She had no choice but to trust he’d eventually feel whole.
Whatever wound he’d opened up that long-ago night when he’d lashed out at his closest friend was deeper than she yet understood.
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Chapter Sixteen
Julia briefly closed her eyes as her husband shut the door behind him, remembering the feel of his lips against her brow—her first kiss on her very first morning as a married woman. She was content to take up his suggestion she rest while he ran errands preparing for their journey to the Grange.
After she’d breakfasted, she pulled a horn comb through her hair, smoothing out the curls while studying her face in the mirror. The bruise on her chin had faded. Other than a slightly heightened color, she appeared no worse for her recent adventures. In fact, by her reflection, she could hardly tell her life had irrevocably changed in every possible way.
A change she’d not just wanted but had prayed, schemed, and risked to achieve.
Possessing—and being possessed by—Rayne had been her aim. However, in the silence of Rayne’s absence, with a dull ache between her legs and his scent still hanging heavily in the air, one thing became obvious—she’d come as far as her aspiration had allowed her to imagine.
As for what came next…?
Nights, of course, she warmly anticipated, but what would her days be like?
She’d only ever seen the Grange from an indistinct distance. She knew Rayne’s land contained mines—she’d listened to Clarissa and Bromton consult. But Clarissa had never spoken of the manor, tenant farms, or even a home farm.
