Now she seemed truly confused; she’d gone completely still, and she was looking at him as if he’d grown a third eye. Gray felt a twinge of remorse. Of course she had no idea where he led with this conversation. In truth, what he envisioned doing with her was as unorthodox as his own donning of gown and veil.
It would be better, he decided, just to spit it out. “I wish to train you, Elise. I want you to learn how to use weapons for defense, to give you enough skill so that you need not fear physical harm from any man, ever again.”
She gazed at him, unmoving, not uttering a sound. She was shocked. Mayhap even mortified. Gray tried to read her thoughts but found that they were closed to him. He was preparing to clarify himself, wondering if she’d understood what he meant, when she spoke.
“’Tis a noble gesture, my lord, your desire to teach me these skills. Yet ’tis pointless. Under English law a woman cannot take arms against a man.”
“In the act of protecting oneself, ’tis allowed.”
“And yet many women have been punished, nonetheless, for daring to do just that, especially against men bearing title.”
Gray stared at his wife, surprised at her quick intelligence and pleased with her stubbornness; this show of spirit boded well for her success in the training he planned for her.
“You argue aptly, lady,” he said, “but I must counter that England is still a land of justice and truth. And I vow that I will allow none to punish you for defending yourself against tyranny.”
She seemed to hold her breath for a moment. Her gaze slid to her hands, folded tightly in her lap. When she looked at him again, he saw a flicker of interest in her eyes. “’Tis not likely that Eduard would approve of such training. Is that why you wish to pursue it?”
Gray’s jaw tightened. “I would have already punished your brother for what he did to you had the decision been mine to make. But barring my own action, I must find other means to protect you from his or any other man’s violence. If that means training you in weaponry and defense, then so be it.”
Elise’s cheeks flooded pink again, and she looked away. “I understand, my lord,” she murmured, “and I am humbled by your care of me. ’Tis more than I deserve.”
“Nay, lady, you deserve all that honor and respect can afford. ’Tis sinful that you have not received more of both in the past.” Gray heard the gruffness in his voice, even as he tried to ignore the warmth that had begun to swell outward from his chest at her praise. He stemmed the unfamiliar feeling by adding, “You agree to the training, then?”
She nodded, her eyes grave as she lifted her face to him. Trusting. Accepting. Another surge of warmth engulfed him. He allowed himself a moment’s indulgence to stoke the delicious embers of emotion she inspired in him. He knew that it couldn’t last. It never did. But God, how good it was to taste this pleasure again. To let himself feel needed by a woman, if only for a short time.
Too soon it slipped from his grasp. Like an arrow fired true and deadly, the memory of what had happened the last time a woman placed her trust in him pierced his heart.
“We will commence your training as soon as your bruises are healed,” he said, clenching his jaw as he tried to push back the memories and the fear of failure that accompanied them. “I leave it to you to inform me when that time arrives.”
“Aye, my lord,” she murmured.
A shout of laughter from the feasting tables and the arrival of several jesters on the floor prevented any further discussion. Gray tried to concentrate on the antics of the fools. He forced himself to look amused when one of them hit the other on the head while juggling apples. But he felt incredibly distracted, and it wasn’t only because of the nearness of his voluptuous bride. He was a man, after all, and such carnal thoughts were to be expected, especially considering that their marriage would remain unconsummated until she was healed.
Nay, his anxiety went much deeper, stemming from a source not so easily dismissed as physical desire. He couldn’t help but acknowledge that he’d taken a giant leap off the path he’d planned to follow here, a leap away from safety into the most dangerous arena of all.
He’d promised to keep his emotional distance from Elise. To leave his heart unaffected. But he’d already begun to break his own word, for his vows to stay clear of entanglement seemed to have melted into a sapphire mist. It had billowed up and surrounded him, muddling his mind and making him want to stay wrapped in its seductive embrace forever…
Mist the same soft, compelling shade as his lady wife’s beautiful eyes.
Chapter 7
Though he’d known she’d come eventually, Gray was still unprepared for his reaction when Elise appeared in his solar a fortnight later and admitted that her bruises were healed. He could commence her training on the morrow, she’d murmured. Then she’d stared at the floor for a moment, cheeks blazing, before glancing up at him again and scurrying away. He’d been left sitting in his chair, engulfed by an almost painful sensation, as if someone tugged invisible, taut threads connected at strategic points to his belly.
He’d spent the remainder of the day roaming the grounds of his castle, restless and sharp-tempered. Nothing had pleased him. He’d felt on edge. Tight as a bowstring. As the shadows deepened to darkness over the lush fields of Ravenslock, his tension had only wound tighter. He’d come late to the evening meal in the great hall to learn that his wife had already supped and retired to their chamber for the evening.
At the news, he’d swallowed his food mechanically, downed the rest of his mulled cider, dismissed his jesters and his courtiers, and stalked up the curved stairs after her.
Now he stood outside their door, filled with the same uncertainty he’d felt the first night he’d come to her. ’Twas ridiculous, he knew. What other man had ever waited more than two weeks to bed his lawfully wedded wife? And yet something still nagged at him as he pushed open the door and stepped into the chamber’s gloom.
Moon shadows played a pattern across the floor as he moved closer to the bed, close enough to touch her as she slept. She looked innocent, almost like a child in slumber. He unclenched his hand and reached out, his fingertips pausing but a whisper away from her hair spread out on the bolster. He could almost feel the silken texture of it against his skin. But with a grimace he pulled back and pressed his hand to his side.
He’d fought this same temptation every night since they’d wed, and each night he’d made himself walk away, made himself sleep on a pallet before the fire so that no one would question his absence from their chamber. He’d succeeded in his restraint thus far, spurred by the knowledge that joining with her might bring more pain to her injuries.
But there was nothing to hold him back now. Nothing, that was, except the haunting shades of his own past.
Elise sighed and shifted, turning away from him. One arm crossed over her chest protectively; the other cradled her head. Just looking at her made Gray’s breath catch in his throat. He was struck again by that incongruous, seductive blend of sensuality and spirit that seemed to emanate from her. His heart thudded slowly, and threads of heat tingled through him, spiking shafts of desire that tightened and wound from his belly out to the rest of him as he gazed down at her.
God, how he wanted her. Wanted her with a need so great that it sometimes hurt to breathe. It boggled his mind how it had come to this. Before the wedding, she’d been nothing more than his enemy’s sister. He’d trusted that, like Eduard, she’d be easy for him to hate. That he’d simply take her to his bed, do his duty in consummating their irksome marriage, and then promptly dismiss her for all intents and purposes from the rest of his life.
