Page 96 of Wed By Proxy

“Guy,” she broke in frowningly. “Do you mean when you called me a pitiless, merciless bitch?”

He flinched at her words. “Aye,” he said hoarsely.

“Then I can honestly say they hurt you, far more than they hurt me,” she said firmly. “In truth, I’ve not dwelt on them at all.”

“You swear it?” He looked so pained, that she tightened her arms around him.

“I do.”

“I struck out at you because I was feeling guilty and miserable and I suspected that I was acting like a damn fool. I also didn’t want to go, which made me angry with myself. I thought about you constantly while I was away. I was terrified I’d get back and find you’d left me. Then, when I did return home and found you gone…” His voice thickened with emotion.

“Oh Guy…” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. “I didn’t leave you,” she said, stroking his cheek. “After Tristan…” she swallowed. “After what happened in the caves, I was so disoriented and … distraught. Lord Vawdrey found me and bore me away. It didn’t dawn on me until it was too late, what conclusion you would draw.”

“Vawdrey said he found you covered in blood,” he said starkly, his gaze bleak.

Mathilde winced. “Yes,” she admitted. “It’s strange, but after I…” she swallowed. “Once Tristan knew he was done for, he was so kind to me, Guy. Even though he was going to kill me, he bore no actual malice toward me. “He — he said he had a part of him that was missing. And that I shouldn’t feel bad about what had happened.” A tear rolled down her cheek and Guy rubbed it away with a swipe of his thumb. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, but I vastly preferred Tristan to Julia,” she confessed in a rush. “I still do.” Guy made a choking sound. “But then, he never tried to take you away from me like she did.”

“Maybe not, but he tried to take you away from me, permanently!” Guy growled.

“I know,” she whispered. “It was when I thought of what you’d do, if I was discovered dead, that I knew I had to fight. I drew my dagger,” she sobbed. “The one you gave me, but I never deliberately struck at him with it, Guy, I swear. He came at me so fast, and he did not see that I had the knife—” she broke off, wiping her eyes.

“Mathilde,” he said shakily, drawing her against him. “My brave girl.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her chin. “My brave Mathilde. I’d have died if anything had befallen you. I just couldn’t have gone on. Knowing how badly I’d treated you, how I’d left you unprotected and alone.”

She raised her head. “But you didn’t,” she pointed out. “That dagger was the first thing you ever gave me. You gave it me the very night we met. And I used it to protect myself.”

“Thank the gods you asked me for a knife,” he said. “And I was unable to deny you anything you asked for, from the very first.”

“And looking back now,” she said drawing a steadying breath, “I can see how my sudden appearance must have seemed very suspicious to you, so it’s little wonder really that you acted the way you did…”

His grip on her grew tighter. “Don’t make excuses for me, my love. My actions were disreputable and deplorable. I knew I wanted you from the first. And I didn’t give a damn about wrong or right, or my honor, or any consideration save getting you for myself. Old Helga warned me not to squander my Yuletide gift, and I so very nearly did. I can’t bear to think of how close you came to death.

“I don’t deserve this blessing,” he said seriously. “But I’ll give thanks every day from this day forward, that you’re mine. I’ll never forget how close I came to losing you, Mathilde. Never,” he swore.

“It’s not just you who behaved badly,” Mathilde said in a pained voice. “I did not respond as I should have, when you told me you loved me. And when I said it to you, I phrased it in such a way that you could take no pleasure from it.”

“I did not deserve any pleasure at that point. You have nothing to reproach yourself with,” he said vehemently. “The fault was mine.”

“Can I tell you now?” she asked in a hushed voice. He swallowed and gave a quick nod. “I love you, Guy.” She said in a low tremulous voice. “I love you so very, very much.”

He uttered a brief exclamation, and then as if unable to help himself, leaned down to tenderly claim her lips.

Moments later, when he raised his head again, Mathilde wondered at how much happier he looked. As though some great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“I told you that I loved you from the first,” she murmured, a little shyly. “But when did you fall for me?”

“From the moment I saw your bruised little feet,” he rasped. “My heart flew right out of my chest.”

“That was early,” Mathilde marveled. “So then—”

“I lied,” he cut her short. “It was before that. Long before that.”

“Really?” she caught her breath. “When?”

He gave a mirthless laugh. “I don’t know. When you told me you wanted your knife.”

“Oh, then—”

“No!” he burst out frustratedly. “It was before that too.”