Page 27 of Marrying the Gardener
“Nothing. She believes I’m here for a chance to wear her down so I can say I slept with a Nightingale. That’s all.”
“Issleeping with her a matter of interest, Mr. Bachelor?”
I wince, half ashamed that I can’t stop myself from smiling. “Very much so. But I want her free first. I want her to take my name. I want to become her husband because she wants me to, not because she needs a man to be the face of her operation. Crimson…” The taste of her fills my brain with longing, and I clamp a hand to the bite marks she left on my neck. “She is the most captivating woman I have ever met. I am drawn helplessly to her.” My eyes close. “I want to be of use. I want to please her. I know I am unworthy and lacking in reputable skills, but if I can at least give her my body and my soul, I hope she might someday want them. If I am unworthy to stand at her side, I will kneel at her feet. But if she never sees another use for me beyond this, I will manage with nothing more than the memory of her.” I fightto ease the ache in my heart; it refuses to abate. “I love her, Ms. Ava. Will you help me make this as least painful as possible?”
Lifting a hand, Ava touches my cheek. “She’s not pregnant?”
“No, ma’am.”
“But you are both married?”
“Yes. We signed the papers this morning.”
She sighs. “A fifth Bachelor…” Her head shakes. “I have always liked those boys.” Her nose wrinkles. “Well, except the weird one.”
I free a small laugh. “Lukas has his merits. Promise.”
“Practically an exhibitionist, that one. Too proud for my tastes.” She pats my cheek and returns her hand to the door’s latch. “Anyway. There’s always an odd one in families with more than one child. I’m just glad it’s not you.”
Strange. I’ve always thought it was. “I…appreciate the compliment?”
She hums, then she waves me off, back toward the main house. “Go on back to bed. Thank you for talking to me. I’ll do what I can to make sure my actions don’t make this harder on Crimson.”
Planting a hand to my chest, I bow my head. “I appreciate your understanding.”
I turn, and Ava’s whisper catches me on the breeze. “Good luck,” she says, “you’ll need it.”
When the door behind me opens, light pours forth, casting my body in a silhouette of shadow before it’s gone, plunging me back into darkness.
Chapter 9
?
It’s hard being a wife; I don’t know how Crisis does it.
Crimson
Ava seems to be doing better this morning? I think. As far as I can tell, she seems almost…chipper.
Does this mean she’s not mad anymore?
Has she decided to trust that I wouldn’t marry someone unless I really, truly, love them? Has she decided that if I love Kaleb, I deserve mercy for my ignorance in perpetuating a cycle of abuse? After all, statistically, this was always going to be my destiny.
Humans fall for whatever’s familiar.
It’s just psychology.
Sipping my morning tea at the kitchen table, I wait for Adelhilde to finish making our breakfast.
Kaleb, channeling wife beater from the 1950s, flips through a newspaper that he—apparently—asked Ava to get for him earlier, and she—apparently—did.
“Viktor Bachelor is still topping the USA Today charts with his latest release,” Kaleb murmurs.
I brighten. “Really? That’s amazing. It’s the second week, isn’t it?”
“I believe so. He’s a good author.” Kaleb’s eyes find me above the paper and heat as he smiles.
I can’t help but think he’s missing a pipe and a tank top, even though I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be blushing and thinking that my husband is perfect just the way he is.
