Page 22 of Suddenly a Bride
Abruptly he surged to his feet. “I will leave you now, my lady.”
“Will you be back for dinner?” she asked.
“I am not certain.”
He busied himself lifting his account book instead of meeting her gaze, and her good humor faded a bit.
“Have a pleasant day, Edmund.”
He nodded and limped from the room, while she watched his awkward stride thoughtfully, biding her time. She looked out the large mullioned windows that spanned one wall and saw him stride to the stables. A few minutes later, he and Geoffrey rode out of the courtyard. Her last glimpse was of them racing again.
Mrs. Haskell came into the parlor. “Might I bring you something else, my lady?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Haskell.”
The housekeeper put the dishes on a tray and took them away. Gwyneth waited a few more minutes then darted down the corridor, through the great hall, and into the deserted servants’ wing.
Before her courage fled, she opened the door to Edmund’s bedchamber and closed it quickly behind her. Her guilt, although bothersome, faded compared to her curiosity. She’d only had the briefest glimpse of this room, and she wanted to see more.
The hearth was cold and bare this summer morn. A large window had recently been cut into the stone wall, but there were only shutters, not draperies, to cover the glass. There were no rugs for warmth, no tapestries to keep out the drafts, no cushioned chair as befitted the lord of a castle. Except for a single chest, a crude wooden table, and a chair, there was only the bed.
As she’d seen only a few hours before, it was big enough for a man his size. There was room for her, too, and she ran a hand across the wrinkled coverlet.
She tried not to let memories of her family haunt her dreams. She missed them and worried for them. Every hour that her husband treated her remotely was another hour of worry about whether she could gain his help someday, which wouldn’t happen if they didn’t have a real marriage.
When the door suddenly opened, she flinched and found herself stepping back. Her legs hit the bed.
Edmund stopped on the threshold and stared impassively at her.
She bit her lip and tried to think of something to say, but all she felt was dread that she’d damaged their already fragile relationship. Why had he returned from his ride so quickly?
He closed the door behind him, set the book on the paper-strewn table, and started walking toward her. She thought he meant to frighten her, but she wasn’t frightened. She felt a thrill of danger, an awareness of him as a man—and the big bed that pressed into her thighs.
“If you meant to wait here for me,” he said in a deep voice, his brow heavy with a frown, “you should have informed me.”
“I was merely exploring, Edmund.” Her voice sounded too brittle. Should she have called him “sir”? She arched her neck to look up at him as he finally stopped in front of her. “I hope my curiosity does not offend you.”
He put his hands on his hips as he looked down at her but said nothing. Gwyneth had the strangest sensation that he was trying to frighten her away but could only make the attempt with his appearance. How could she tell him that his face, his body, hardly made her want to run away?
“Curiosity can be a dangerous thing in such an old castle, my lady,” he said slowly, “for I’ve not yet had time to see to all the repairs that need my attention.”
She heard his words, but she paid more attention to his eyes and the way his gaze strayed to her mouth twice. Without thinking, she reached out and touched his arm, felt the solid strength and warmth of him through his shirt. He seemed almost frozen.
“Edmund, is it not cold down here in the winter?” she whispered.
He took two steps back from her. With disappointment, she let her hand fall to her side.
After clearing his throat, he said, “I have seldom been here during the winter.”
“Then where did you go?”
“London, as Elizabeth wished, then France most recently.”
He turned his back on her, standing at the table with one hand on the account book. She longed to question him about Elizabeth but knew that would put up a wall of ice between them.
“And you fought with the army there?” she asked, moving closer.
He nodded, and she wished she could see his face. She took a step at a time nearer the hearth. His profile looked dark and troubled. When he saw her watching him, all expression was wiped from his face as he gazed at her with his ice-blue eyes.
