“What?” Jamie sat up and leaned over her. “I am sorry if I offended you by not speaking plainly before. You know I love you.”
“Men say that all the time.”
“But I mean it,” he said, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. “And I shall still love you when your beauty is no more than a memory traced upon your face.”
They had left the bed curtains drawn. In the sunlight from the tall window, she took in the strong lines of his handsome face, the intense expression in the violet-blue eyes. She swallowed. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. Why did he not tell her these things before?
She reached up and cupped the side of his face with her hand. “You will always be special to me as my first lover.”
“First lover!” His fingers dug into her arm. A moment later, he released her and flopped back down on the bed. “How you enjoy torturing me with your teasing! Sometimes you go too far.”
Why do men never believe what you say? They persist in believing “no” means “perhaps,” and “I despise you” means “I want you to write me bad poetry.”
“I do not wish to be a wife,” she said to Jamie. “I could not bear having a man tell me what to do all my life.”
Jamie laughed. “As if I would dare try.”
“You would. It is what men do.”
He turned on his side, his dark hair falling across his eyes. “Let us pretend you are serious. What else could you do? I cannot see you as a nun.”
She batted away his hand as he reached for her breast. “I may make a brief marriage.”
“A brief one?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“Aye, to a very old man who will leave me a wealthy widow,” she said. “Or, I may become a famous courtesan.”
The bed shook with Jamie’s laughter.
“I am trying to be honest with you,” she said, slapping his shoulder.
“You are beautiful enough to become the most famous courtesan in all of France,” he said, pulling her on top of him. “And you know it very well. But enough of this foolishness. We must make our plan.”
She may as well be speaking to a turnip. She pushed away from him and sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees. In sooth, she could not imagine letting anyone else touch her the way Jamie did. But her plans required independence and money of her own.
Whenever her resolve weakened, she thought of the men who robbed her grandfather blind when he grew feebleminded toward the end. They were men he’d done business with for years; men he’d trusted and loaned money to in hard times. Not an hour after he died, these same men stripped their house in Falaise of valuables. Because of them, she and her brother, Francois, were stealing food to survive even before the English siege began.
One day, she would return to Falaise and destroy every one of those men who stole from them and left them to starve.
“Do you think your father will object to our marrying?” Jamie asked, startling her from her thoughts.
“Aye, he would,” she said absently over her shoulder, “because the devil’s spawn has already chosen a husband for me.”
Jamie jerked upright beside her. “He intends to pledge you to another?”
“After ignoring me and my brother for most of our lives, Alain thinks he can play father now and tell me what to do.” Alain sorely underestimated her. “He only claimed us because his legitimate sons are dead.”
Jamie gripped her arm. “Who is the man he wants you to wed?”
“That snake Guy Pomeroy.”
Jamie raised his eyebrows. “Your father aims high. Sir Guy is close to the Duke of Gloucester, the king’s youngest brother.”
“ ’Tis not for my benefit, you can be sure,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I hate the way Sir Guy looks at me. I swear, I would put a blade in his heart before I let him near me.”
“You are mine to protect now.” Jamie took her hand and kissed it. “I know you loathe your father, but he must be dealt with. It will be awkward if he has already spoken with Sir Guy, but that cannot be helped.”
“I have taken care of it.” She had to tell Jamie now. He would be so angry he might not speak to her for days.
