Page 21 of His Betrothed
“I thought you were a wounded sailor, that it was my duty to help you. I even help wounded animals, you know, though they might bite me.”
He rolled his eyes. “So you would have left me there, had you known my identity.”
She didn’t say yea or nay, but he could imagine, couldn’t he?
“How long did it take you to recognize me?”
She looked down at where he held her,andhe noticed the strength and sturdiness of the hands that had taken care of him. He let her go, and she quickly sat back on her heels.
“When the swelling in your face went down several days later, I recognized you.”
“Then why did you keep me here?”
She seemed taken aback by his question. “I already told you that I didn’t think you deserved to die for your fickleness.”
“Myfickleness?” hebegan, then shook his head. “No, I’ll leave that nonsense for another time. You could easily have called the authorities to take me away. Why didn’t you?”
Her tone stiff, she said, “The people of Shanklin would shun me if they found out I was housing a man.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said flatly. “You cared little what people thought of you two years ago.”
“Believe what you wish. Now may Ifinish this chore so that I may sleep? I have to bake in the morning.”
“For my estate again?”
“For the bailiff and his family on my parents’ estate.”
She put her hands on his shirt, and suddenly her ministrations seemed too intimate.
“You are naive, Roselyn, or you do not understand the way the world of the nobility works.”
“I understand well enough how little a woman matters to men,” shesaid, with only a hint of bitterness.
She unwrapped the bandages from his chest. Though the tugging was painful, Spencer didn’t complain. He searched her face for a clue to her real feelings.
“Like you, I had no say in the marriage,” he said.
“You made that perfectly clear the eve of the wedding.”
He watched her fingers rub a smelly salve into his skin. He remembered little of that night.He’d been drinking with his friends beforehand, and he hadn’t stopped drinking at the party. Since he barely remembered meeting her, what could he have said or done wrong?
As Roselyn leaned over him, he smelled the brine of sea water. “Did you go swimming in your clothes?”
“I’d rather smell of salt than your odor.”
“Then I guess ’tis time for another bath. The last one showed you what you missedby not wedding me.”
“I only discovered howlittleI missed.”
She coolly stood up and turned away, leaving him speechless. He was used to women giggling at his outrageous talk, not shooting it back at him.
Clenching his jaw, he watched her climb upinto the loft. Only a few moments later she came back down, carrying clothing over her arm. Without looking at him, she went outside and closed thedoor behind her.
Roselyn marched around the cottage to the bake house, where she’d earlier put water on to boil. Seething over Thornton’s rude comments, she added hot and cold water to the half barrel she used to bathe in during the summer. Thornton’s presence wasn’t enough to stop her; the salt was itching her skin and scalp too badly.
From a crate, she stepped down into the barrel and submergedherself, knees close to her chest, sighing with pleasure. It didn’t last long. Though the stars above usually made her think peaceful thoughts, tonight they only reminded her of the glitter of Thornton’s dark eyes. She even felt ill at ease being alone outside, somehow.
Roselyn scrubbed herself hard, seething with anger. How dare he make rude comments about the wedding night they’d never had?
