Reina waved him to silence before she started to cry. She could feel the tears forming and fought them back, pushing the horror from her mind. This had naught to do with her. Whom was she deceiving? It had happened toherhusband, and he was still suffering from it, which most certainly did affect her. But for him to blame all women for what one heartless bitch had done, that was not fair.
“Let us look at this realistically,” she said, managing to sound in control, if slightly pained. “These incidents happened eleven or twelve years ago.”
“Eight,” he corrected her.
She was startled from her thoughts. “I thought he was older.”
“He has always looked older because of his size, but he is only twenty years and three, lady.”
“Well, still, eight years is long enough for him to have discovered all women are not the same.”
“How would you feel had it happened to you?” Walter countered. “Lady Anne was all that was sweet and gentle. She never raised her voice. She never had a bad word to say of anyone. Her ruthless greed and callousness were concealed from one and all. Think you Ranulf could ever trust another lady’s winsome smiles after that?”
“But we are not all like that!”
“I know it, but ’twill take much to convince him of it.” And then he groaned. “Smile, he is returning.”
“You must be mad. I could not smile now if my life depended on it. And do I do so, he will wonder about it, not the other way around. He has not exactly been in my good graces today, had you not noticed.”
“But you will forgive him?”
“What you have told me only explains his distrust of noblewomen,” she hissed aside to him. “It does not excuse his deplorably churlish manner.”
“Thatis correctable, my lady, do you care to make the effort.”
She had no time for another reply, for Ranulf sat down on the bench on her other side just then. Fortunately, Walter gave her time to collect herself by having a brief conversation with Ranulf, but then he made his excuses and departed, leaving them alone by the hearth.
Reina could not look at him just yet. She was confused by what she was feeling now and did not trust herself to speak. Who would have thought such a man could stir her sympathies? He seemed so indestructible, so immune to tender emotions—but had he been that way as a lad? And then she noticed Eadwina across the hall staring at him dreamily and forgot all that.
“Did I hurt you today?”
“What?”
“Today in the woods?” Ranulf clarified. “Did I hurt you?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him aye. But the fact was she had felt anger, disappointment, frustration, but no pain. And lying to him was no way to start out this relationship of theirs.
“Nay, you did not.”
“You are certain?”
“Aye.”
“You would tell me if I did?”
She looked at him incredulously. What was wrong with him? Or was this more of his bizarre humor? Whatever, she had just passed over the edge to irritation.
“Do you hurt me, you can be sure I would scream loud enough for you and everyone else to know it. Oh, you can be sure of that, my lord.”
He frowned at her. Mayhap he should have asked earlier, but she had been in no good mood all day. And now she was turning one thing into another, and coming close to deserving the other.
“Do I turn you over my knee, lady,youcan be sure I will not care who knows it.”
Had she felt sorry for him? She must have been mad.
“Thank you for the warning,” she replied tightly, and started to get up.
His hand came swiftly to her arm, detaining her. “I did not mean to—” He stopped, his frown deepening. “Why have you been so wroth today?”
