As she ate, Christina chattered nonstop, just as she had yesterday in the woods. And Marian couldn’t help but think that a woman as lively and talkative as Christina didn’t belong in a convent. She clearly had bottled her words for so long that now she needed to express them. She rambled on about Chesterfield Park, about its history, about the grounds, the stables, the flowers, and even the chapel.
Marian didn’t mind, and tried to remember every detail so she could tell Harrison. He would be delighted to know about the original owners of the manor, how the house had looked, and what it had contained. After she finished the meal, a drowsy contentment overcame her.
As Christina took the cup out of her hands and situated her into the pillows, Marian yawned, suddenly too tired to do anything. As much as she needed to get to work saving herself and her family, she knew her body wouldn’t cooperate until she allowed herself to recover.
~ 17 ~
“SHE’S AWAKE, MILORD.” Sarah’s statement broke through Will’s quiet reverie in his antechamber.
At midmorning, he’d been assessing the ledgers and attempting to figure out how he could raise money to support himself and his men on the next campaign. The king would expect him to not only contribute toward the general warfare needs, but also to support the men at arms he brought with him.
He could not take more from his vassals—although he guessed most other noblemen would resort to the extortion when the time arose. To do so would grievously hurt the people who depended upon them even more than they’d already been hurt.
Sitting back in his chair, he expelled a sigh. He had not yet discovered a different means of funding the war efforts. Neither had Thad, who stood next to his desk, a frown marring his young face.
Other than the writing desk, chair, and cabinet against one wall where he kept his ink and ledgers and documents of importance, the room was sparsely furnished. The small door behind him led down to a vault where he kept the family’s valuables. The door remained locked at all times, and only Thad knew where he kept the key.
Sarah hesitated, clasping her hands and waiting with head bowed.
“Instruct my wife that I wish her to remain abed today.”
“Aye, I have done so.”
“And . . . ?”
“She is already up, milord, and has insisted on getting dressed.”
“Inform her that whatever she puts on, I shall personally divest ere I toss her back into bed.”
A slight smile tugged at Sarah’s lips as she closed the door and took her leave.
Will had the sudden image of unlacing Marian’s gown and half hoped she’d persist in disobeying so he might follow through with his threat.
“You do realize Lady Marian is not submissive.” Thad spoke as quietly and seriously as always. As his steward, Thad steadfastly kept his ledgers and accounts in working order whilst Will was away. The man was trustworthy and reliable, and they agreed on nearly every financial matter.
“Yes, I realize this about her.” Submission was equated with being a good wife. But Will couldn’t deny Marian’s feisty spirit was one of the things he liked about her.
Will had no doubt Thad loved Sarah devoutly. But watching them together, one would never surmise the two were married. In fact, Will guessed that’s how his marriage with Alice had been—how most marriages were. If affection and tenderness existed, the expression of them was private.
But for a reason he couldn’t explain, he was unable to keep his passion for Marian relegated to the bedchamber. She was intruding upon his thoughts at all times of the day and night—like now, because she utterly fascinated him. She had from the first moment he’d seen her in his dreams, standing in front of the manor at dusk, her glorious hair aflame from the setting sun.
He couldn’t deny he was eager to join her in bed and consummate their marriage. The waiting had likely made his thoughts of her run more rampant. But after her first unresponsive night when he’d been unable to wake her, he’d chastised himself to be patient and allow her time to recuperate from the beatings she’d sustained at St. Sepulchre.
After he’d insisted she rest in her chambers yesterday, he’d bedded down in the great hall last night, pushing back his desire for her once again, especially after the view he’d gotten of her slender legs and womanly shape. She was more comely than his weak flesh could withstand. He understood now why some men went to such lengths for their women, why they ended up sacrificing so much, why they sometimes even made fools of themselves.
It was clear the right woman could wield great power over a man—at least Marian seemed to have enchanted him. One soft gasp, one word of gratitude, one lift of her lashes, and he became like melted tallow.
Just thinking about her reaction to his kisses sent heat twisting tightly through his gut. She hadn’t been passive, hadn’t simply tolerated his advances—as Alice had done. She’d responded with an ardor that had taken him by surprise and yet had pleased him.
Yes, he sensed Marian’s naivety and innocence. But he also sensed a deep well of emotion within her that if nourished and cherished would match his own.
Thad picked up one of the ledgers and placed it with the others in the cabinet behind the writing desk. “If you regret your decision, you still have time for an annulment—since you have not yet consummated your union.”
“She is my wife. I shall keep her, whether I have bedded her or not.”
“But Lady Felice—”
“I rule Chesterfield Park, not my mother.” Even as he spoke the words, he realized Thad was only trying to protect him. His mother hadn’t been pleased to hear the news of his marriage to Marian since they knew almost naught about her.
“How could you despise my plans with Lord Percy?” Lady Felice’s eyes had flashed with resentment toward Will as she’d spoken to him yesterday when he finally allowed her to enter his antechamber. “You have given up a beneficial arrangement.”
A beneficial arrangement that would have brought Chesterfield Park a dowry, wealth he could have used to assist his war efforts.
“And for what?” Lady Felice released a scoffing laugh. “To feed your lust?”
He wanted to lash back but restrained himself. “I have done what is expected of me in many ways. In this matter, I shall do as I please.”
“If she has run away and her kin is powerful, they may decide to take revenge upon us for thwarting her union to the man of their choice. What shall we do then?”
“She is mine now.” He felt the truth of his statement all the way to his bones. Even if they had not become one flesh yet, he could not—would not—relinquish her. “If anyone wants to take her away from me, they will have to fight me.”
“And what if her kin—or her betrothed—come for her while you are away in France?”
The very idea made his blood run cold. If something like that happened, even if Thad sent him a missive anon, such a letter wouldn’t reach him for weeks—if not months. By the time he returned to defend Marian and his home, he could very well be too late.
Every time he departed, he felt as if he was leaving his kin at the mercy of fate. He’d never liked knowing the people he loved were defenseless and powerless without him there. Yet, what choice did he have? What choice would he have now?