Again she hesitated. “It’s good for a lady to know where she stands with her husband.”
“And for a man to know where he stands with his wife,” he replied. “Did your father come to see me because of, or in spite of, your wishes?”
“I wasn’t much consulted,” she tried to say, but he shook his head.
“Were you willing this morning, Joan?”
It was the thread of yearning in his voice that undid her. Whatever his answer, whatever the depth of his feeling for her, he cared about this—about her. He wanted to know she wanted to be his wife. It was her moment to be brave and bare her heart, and she could only hope he would do the same.
“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “Perfectly. You must know I was.”
“Because your parents insisted,” he said.
“No.”
“Because I made love to you and took your virginity.”
She blushed. “No.”
His jaw tensed. “Because of my fortune.”
“No.”
“Because we suit each other so well in bed.”
“You would know I was lying if I said that didn’t influence my feelings,” she said, blushing harder than ever. “But no—it seems clear that a lady can find pleasure with more than one man, so I didn’t suppose our—our—”
“Desperate hunger for each other,” he supplied.
“Yes, that—I didn’t think that alone meant we were meant for each other,” she finished, striving to maintain her poise even as his words made her heart skip a beat.
“Ah,” he said. “You were wrong. This sort of passion does not come along all the time.”
“That may be, but I married you because I fell in love with you,” she cried in exasperation. “Why are you making this so difficult?”
Tristan stared at her as if dumbfounded. Joan closed her mouth and concentrated on straightening the lace on her cuff. “I certainly didn’t mean to, but I did,” she added more calmly. “And I would like to know if you think you might ever come to care for me in some similar way.”
He got up and crossed the room to her. Joan squinted at her cuff, unwilling to face him just yet.
“No,” he said. “I don’t think so.”
She flinched. “Never?”
“I am quite sure that I am already in love with you,” he said. “Although if you intended to present an argument about why I should be, I shall listen with rapt attention.”
“You’d better!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed. “What did you say?”
“What didyousay?” he returned.
Joan blinked at him. “I married you because I love you.”
His mouth quirked. “As did I. I just didn’t know ...”
“What?” she asked cautiously.
“I didn’t know it would matter to you.” He shrugged. “I haven’t got much experience in being loved.”
Her heart was in danger of bursting. “Why did you think it wouldn’t matter to me?” she asked softly.
