His words were like salt in her wounds, for she knew he believed that was true.But she also knew it was not true for her.If a nobleman was the king’s pawn, a noblewomanwas that pawn’s slave.By royal decree, she belonged to Gellir.To defy that would bring dishonor to everyone she cared for.
“Even if ’tisn’t me,” he said quietly, “you deserve to be with a man you love.”
Her heart cracked at that.She loved no one but Hew.But she couldn’t tell him that.She couldn’t enslave his heart in that way.She had to let him go.Give him permission to move on and find a wife of his own.
“I can’t,” she said.
When he would have argued, she seized his forearm to silence him.
“I can’t,” she insisted, “because I’m with child.”
Hew’s heart started racing.It shouldn’t have been racing.
“You are?”
“Aye.”
“Ah.”At least his voice was calm.
But he was particularly grateful for the dark.It hid his ridiculous grin and the tears that were inexplicably filling his eyes.All at once, simultaneously overjoyed and distraught, he couldn’t get words past the lump in his throat.
“I have to wed as soon as possible,” she told him.“This child cannot be born a bastard.’Twill already be early.I dare wait no longer.”
He couldn’t stop smiling over the idea that their love had made a bairn.
Or weeping over the fact he wouldn’t be allowed to claim the child.
Unless…
“Who else knows?”he asked.
“No one.But I won’t lie to Gellir.”
Hew understood that.A marriage couldn’t begin with deceit.“You won’t have to.”
Hew knew something about Gellir that Carenza didn’t.
More than anything, his cousin was a man of morals.Without principles, without virtue, he was nothing.He would rather die than sacrifice his honor.
Even if she tried to hide it, Gellir would never be fooled into believing the bairn was his.He’d always know the child was not his true heir.He’d always know his bride had not come to his bed a virgin.While chivalry might prevent Gellir from interrogating Carenza, that knowledge would haunt him.He would be miserable in their marriage.As miserable as Carenza.
The clan would count the months.They’d assume either Gellir had planted his seed long before their marriage or Carenza had taken a lover before him.
Either assumption would be a blow to Gellir’s pride.A stain on his spotless reputation.And that was something the illustrious Sir Gellir Cameliard of Rivenloch could not abide.
But Hew?
He wasn’t the heir to Rivenloch.
He wasn’t a tournament champion.
He wasn’t a paragon of virtue.
Indeed, most people thought he was a philandering wastrel.
He had nothing to lose.
Suddenly inspired, he dug in his satchel and pulled out the wee parcel he’d been saving for months.He opened her palm, placing on it the gold ring he’d bought from the goldsmith’s widow.
