“Yes.” I made myself smile for his benefit. “I’m fine.” Truth be told, Iwasfine—it was only that I was consumed with thoughts that had nothing at all to do with food. In fact, for the first time in a fortnight I felt like I wouldn’t be able to eat a bite. The only thing I could think of was the wedding night. I hadn’t very much enjoyed performing the duties of a wife, but I knew that it must be done.
Antony and I were greeted by the innkeeper with hearty congratulations and the news that a small cake had been prepared in our honor. The man pinched my cheek and laughed as I blushed. Antony was full of smiles and kind words for every person that stopped us to offer congratulations.
When Wallace and I had married, we’d had a wedding feast, as was the custom. The meal that Antony and I shared together could hardly be called such, and yet, it was a warm, enjoyable affair. All the patrons of the inn gathered around us and filled the evening with lively conversation and innocent jests that, after a time, made me forget my fear. It was not long before the cake was served, which Antony cut into small pieces so that everyone present could sample some.
I watched my new husband with awe. He was among his people now, and it was clear to see that he was a true leader. He could make them laugh, and he listened with rapt attention each time anyone spoke and genuinely seemed to care about each and every one. Long before the meal was over, I found myself feeling a certain sense of pride concerning Antony.
After the cake had been eaten, my cup was filled with wine and I was urged to drink. It went straight to my head, which seemed to be the point as the guests present laughed at my flushed face. I joined in the laughter, happy to be a part of the merriment. One man began to play a fiddle and another had a flute. Before long, the room was full of dancing and Antony was quick to pull me to the center of the room and spin me around until I was dizzy with the dancing and drink.
“Oh ho!” he exclaimed, cradling me in his arms when I swooned. “Not too light on your feet tonight, my dove?”
“It’s your fault,” I accused, my words slurring slightly. “You only wanted a reason to catch me.”
He leaned forward until our lips were nearly touching. “Guilty as charged,” he murmured, moments before his mouth met mine. In another life, I would have been horrified to cause such a scandal. Yet, in this moment, with this man, I knew no shame. I kissed him back with all the passion I felt, hardly hearing the hoots of laughter and encouragement that surrounded us.
When we pulled apart, Antony’s eyes sparkled brighter than before. “I think it’s time we were to bed, wife.”
“As you wish, my husband.”
Antony thanked the people who had dined with us, waving off their invitation to see us to bed. Then, with an arm protectively around my waist, he led me to our room. “I got you a gown,” he surprised me by saying.
“You did? When?”
“You recall I bought a replacement harness for your mare? I picked up a few supplies while I was there.”
“How thoughtful,” I remarked, pleased that he’d thought of me. When he showed me the gown, nothing more than a plain cotton garment with only a strip of lace for decoration, I thought it the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, simply for the thought he’d put into it. I began to unbutton my dress but quickly found that my fingers were slippery and useless.
“Here, let me,” he suggested huskily as he stepped behind me.
“I normally have someone to help me,” I admitted.
“Now you have me to help you. There is no shame in asking your husband for help. That is why I am here.”
True to his word, Antony unbuttoned me from top to bottom and helped me step out of the gown without complaint. Wallace had much preferred to rip the fabric from my body. Though I tried to push thoughts of my first husband out of my mind, today of all days it was hard not to compare them.
Antony said nothing as he helped me from my chemise and then slid the nightgown over my head. Only when it was in place did he smile and lean forward to kiss my lips. “You look beautiful, my dove. I knew it would suit you.”
“Thank you.” I dipped my head, humbled by his gesture and the compliment.
“You must be exhausted, sweeting. Let’s put you to bed.”
It was not until he’d tucked me into the soft bed—which felt remarkably better than the hard ground, particularly where my sore arse was concerned—that I realized that he truly did intend to sleep. I waited for him to say or do anything that would show another intention, but when he slid underneath the blankets alongside me I realized that he was not planning on bedding me. To my surprise, I found myself feeling disappointed. Did he not want me? How could that be possible? Surely he’d only married me so thathe could lie with me as a husband would.
“Are you unwell, my dove?” Antony asked as I shifted in bed for the tenth time. “Can you not sleep?”
I wasn’t sure that I was going to say anything, but when I opened my mouth to reply, I found the words tumbling out. “I thought you would wish to consummate our union.”
“I see. I thought given your… condition, and the long ride today… I assumed you’d rather not.”
“Our marriage is not valid before the eyes of God until we lie together as man and wife.”
“Is that what worries you, Cecily? I told you that I would honor you and protect you as a husband should. I will keep that vow regardless of whether or not we consummate our union this night.”
“You don’t want me then,” I said flatly.
The bed shifted as he sat up. “Is that what you think, wife? Don’t let such falsehoods sully your lips again, or I am afraid I will have to clean them with soap.”
The threat made me shiver in a way that I found strangely erotic. “You are the one who is talking of sleep,” I pointed out.
