forty-one
When Tristan opened his eyes, the pink light of dawn lit the room. Effie slept next to him, curled into a ball under the quilt. Despite his tight situation, he smiled at her beautiful face as she breathed softly. Her long eyelashes fanned over her cheeks.
He blinked the sleep away. His wrist and ankles were still tied. His arm was numb, and his fingers were a bit swollen. Aside from that, the bloody twitch bothering him was silent as if he’d just returned from the ring.
“Tristan. Oh, my goodness.” She bolted upright, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was dishevelled, falling in messy curls on her shoulders. “I fell asleep and left you tied down. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry.”
“It’s terrible. You must be sore.” She undid the knots in two simple moves.
The moment the rope released its bite on his flesh, warmth flooded him. Invisible needles stung his limbs as blood flowed again. He opened and closed his fingers, grimacing at the pain.
“I’m so sorry.” She rubbed his hand. “I thought you wouldn’t have slept, thus neither would I. Instead, we both fell asleep.”
He stared at her flushed cheeks, dishevelled hair, and wrinkled gown. He would give anything to wake up every day like that with her at his side. Maybe not exactly like that.
“I’m so proud of you.” She held his hand against her chest.
He caressed her jaw with his knuckles. “Thank you.”
She gave him a shy smile that melted his heart. “You did the hardest part. How do you feel?”
“I think the need will come back to claim me, but now I know I can defeat it. But I tell you, it wasn’t a pleasant evening.”
She rested her head on his chest. “If the urge returns, I’ll share the moment with you.”
He hugged her, ignoring the pain of his numb limbs coming to life again. “I owe you my life.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“I’m not. Without you, it was a matter of time before something happened to me. Without you, I wouldn’t have apologised to Harris and James for how I treated them, and I wouldn’t have told Rowan how much I cared about him. I would have died in The Octagon. Will you marry me even if your father doesn’t want me as his son?” He hadn’t realised how frightened he was of her answer until that moment.
In his arrogance, he’d taken for granted she would have married him, no matter what. But she loved her family, and her father was an important figure for her. She might ask him to wait until her father came around or reject his proposal altogether.
She kissed his cheek, her eyes glistening. “I’m sure that once Papa realises you have nothing to do with this new attack on him, he’ll agree.”
Not the answer he wanted.
“But what if he doesn’t bless our marriage even after that?” He caressed her back, wishing he could take her away and marry her now.
She tilted her head towards him. “Yes, I would marry you. I love you, Tristan.”
He hugged her. “I was afraid you would say no.”
“I don’t care if the world is against us.”
“So, am I better than Mr. Barry the pig?”
She giggled. “A true champion.”
He laughed, his pulse spiking for once in happiness. Now he was sure he could beat any urge he had.
But before that, he would prove his innocence and make sure she had the happiness she deserved.
When Effie returned home,a valid story to explain her prolonged absence wasn’t clear yet in her mind. She could claim the horse’s illness had been a delicate one, but her father wouldn’t fall for such a silly lie.
There was the chance he hadn’t been informed of the fact she hadn’t slept at home. Before leaving Tristan’s house, she’d refreshed herself, and the housekeeper had brushed her gown. She would pretend to have woken up early and taken a walk. Or she could tell the truth, so he would have no choice but to agree to her marriage, but wasn’t that vile?
