Her brows came together. “You can forgive me for all that happened to you?”
“I have.” He forced a smile at the lie. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized how deeply his resentments had run toward her. He truly had believed she had known of his fate, of what he’d done for her, and had not cared.
“I don’t know if I can forgive myself. I don’t know why I eloped with Arthur. He was insistent,” she added as if that explained something.
However, Roman was all too aware of what had driven Paccard—he’d considered Roman a rival for Leonie’s attention. He’d believed that since Roman had joined the brigade, she’d lost interest in him. Jealousy could drive a man to insanity.
God help him, Roman wanted to ask her if it was true.
But he didn’t. She was his wife. And yet they were perfect strangers.
“Tell me about your family,” she said, changing the subject.
“My stepfather was an Oxford fellow and tutor,” he said. “My mother is a bit of a rooster.”
“Rooster?” Leonie’s eyes widened at the thought and then she laughed. “Your mother can’t be a rooster.”
“Peacock, then. Catherine Gilchrist is a proud woman who does not like to be crossed.” He didn’t tell Leonie his mother was also a very worried woman.
“I will keep that in mind.”
“My sisters are very much like her.”
“I shall keep that in mind as well. Any brothers?”
“I am the only son and I’m the youngest, which means I am accustomed to being bullied about by my sisters.”
She laughed at the thought, the sound soft and light—and he wanted to kiss her. She was all but inviting him to do it.
If they had celebrated their marriage with a normal wedding night, or if their circumstances had been different, he’d be making love to her in this coach right now.
Roman had never been one to be shy around women. He usually knew exactly what they wanted from him, but Leonie was different.
No, thestakeswere different. He was in love. Yes, he had fallen under her spell and he barely knew her—but what he was learning about her, he liked very much. Besides, he had a soft heart for the vulnerable.
The question was, could she love him?
And that was one that could torture a man’s soul.
He really hadn’t given her a choice about marriage, had he? He’d thought he’d known her secrets. Instead, he was learning her scars and he wanted to do everything in his power to make her happy with this marriage.
Bonhomie was the lynchpin in his plans. It would be safe ground between them.
So, he told her of Bonhomie as he saw it. He described the fields, the livestock, the mill with its rushing stream. She listened as if he was telling the grandest story in the world.
And he was.
What would she think when they arrived? Well, he’d have to convince her to see it as he did.
Chapter 12
They stopped for the night at an inn not far from the Post Road, the Hound’s Breath. It was a busy house with travelers from all ranks of life.
Leonie was exhausted, hungry, and not feeling particularly herself.
While her husband arranged with the innkeeper for their rooms and hiring a vehicle for the morrow, she sat on a bench in the reception room and watched people coming and going in and out of the open doorway of a large taproom. Most were genteel folk but there was a group of soldiers who were well into their cups. They were drinking tankards of ale but they also had a bottle that they passed freely amongst themselves.
She caught herself watching that bottle as it was shared.
