the king confirmed. “I would have this business concluded with all haste, before relatives and friends try to delay it.”
Or the bride or groom, Reece suspected.
“At noon, as is traditional. Since this is my command, we will provide the wedding feast, of course.”
If it truly comes to pass, Reece thought as he made his obeisance, for he was not yet willing to concede that the marriage was inevitable.
Henry and Eleanor departed, leaving him alone with his bride-to-be.
He had a hundred things to say to her, but he hardly knew where to begin, until he faced her and saw how pale she was.
“Are you ill?” he asked, as worried again as when she had fainted, and instantly recalling the sensation of her body in his arms.
She shook her head. “No. I did not really swoon. I wanted to speak to the king without the entire court listening.”
She had tricked the king? God’s wounds, she was an astonishing woman.
“I confess I was very relieved that my ruse worked.” She made a little smile. “Thank you for cushioning my fall. I could have injured myself had you not caught me.”
And held her in his arms, her body warm against his.
He fought the urge to clear his throat, for it seemed a lump had settled there. “And your brothers? Did they punish you?”
She shrugged her shoulders, and even that gesture was graceful. “I went a day and a night without food. It was no great hardship. I have fasted thus many times before.”
She apparently thought little of it, but he would add this to the Delasaines’ list of crimes and mete out a suitable punishment when the time came.
“It is good of you to be so concerned, Sir Reece.” Again she smiled, and again, he felt dazzled, or as bashful as a lad trying to steal his first kiss.
But he had even been too bashful for that, afraid any of the village girls or serving wenches or young ladies who came to visit his home would laugh in his face if he tried. He was not like Blaidd and Kynan, who would probably laugh with them. He would have wanted to die from shame.
He hadn’t kissed a woman until the Earl of Beaumonte’s daughter had backed him into a dark corner one Christmastide. She had done more there, too.
Then a plan came to him, one that did not depend on delaying the marriage Henry was so keen on. It was not an easy solution, but given how little time they had before the wedding, it might be the only one that had any chance of succeeding.
He drew himself up, like a guard on the gate, and commanded himself to concentrate on what must be done to get out of this predicament.
And it was a predicament, no matter how attractive he found Anne, or how he hated to think of her with such brutes for brothers.
“Lady Anne, I deeply regret following you and speaking to you,” he said, stiff and formal and very proper. “I did not foresee this most unfortunate consequence.”
She cocked her head to regard him and he realized how very green her eyes were, like a tree coming into bud, or the grass of a meadow in springtime. “I’m sorry my half brothers hurt you.”
He stiffened. He didn’t want her pity, or a reminder that he had been ignominiously beaten.
She reached up and touched his shoulder. It was a simple act, and he had been touched in a hundred more intimate ways by other women after Claire, but never had the simple pressure of a hand upon his shoulder hit him with such force. Heat, tingling and exciting, spread outward from her hand, all the way below his sword belt.
No, his plan was not without some serious faults, if he ever forgot his ultimate goal and gave himself over to the desire coursing through him even now.
“Sir Reece, my half brothers are as responsible for this as you are,” she said, the gentle words issuing from her full, soft lips. “If they had behaved as knights should, following me would have been nothing more than a charming encounter after a feast.”
Charming? She found him charming, as women found Blaidd and Kynan Morgan charming?
He had feared his feelings alone could jeopardize his plan. Perhaps he should come up with another…if he had more time, and the king had not made such a terrible threat, and she was not looking at him with those brilliant green eyes.
“Regrettably, Damon will not see it that way,” she continued. “He will be angry and blame you.”
She spoke as if he must be afraid of Damon, or fear his wrath. “I am not afraid of him, or any man.”
Yet what did her opinion of him matter, after all? He simply could not be married to a Delasaine for the rest of his life.
“My lady, since neither of us desire this marriage, I have a plan to free us from it.”
She remained enigmatically silent and slowly crossed her arms. Her action drew attention to her shapely breasts beneath her lovely green gown. Desire—unbidden, yet strong as a mighty blow—threatened to rob him of rational thought, and never had there been a time he more needed to be rational.
He walked toward the king’s chair, away from her and her shining eyes and luscious body. When he was sure his passing excitement had been conquered, he faced her again.
“Given the king’s insistence, we must go through with the ceremony,” he began as calmly as he could.
“Yes.”
She sounded as composed as he wanted to be.
“However, there is no need to stay married.”
Her shrewd, intelligent eyes remained fixed upon him as she patiently waited for him to explain.
This was torture, but he had to speak if he wanted to reveal his plan. He would not think of her as a beautiful woman, but one of the soldiers under his command.
Might as well try to believe he was the king of France.
“After a time,” he said, not meeting her gaze, “when tempers have had a chance to cool, especially the king’s, we can seek an annulment.”
“How? On what grounds?” she asked, the only indication of surprise the slight rise of her shapely brows—or perhaps she was hopeful that he had found a solution to their mutual problem. Or was her tranquillity as shallow as his, a mere gloss upon more turbulent waters? “Will you bribe some clergyman to discover that we are, in fact, related and thus the marriage forbidden by consanguinity?”
What she felt, or did not feel, was unimportant, so long as she agreed to his plan. “I would have no relationship between our families of any kind, real or false, so the dissolution must be for another reason.”
Her expression darkened. “What other reason?”
“Nonconsummation.”
This time he was sure it was surprise that flashed across
