Page 7 of Suddenly a Bride
She quickly realized he was not a talkative man, but she could not blame him. She wasn’t certain what to say either. Instead, she watched him eat.
And was pleasantly amazed. Hermothercould not have faulted his manners. He ate with a politeness and cleanliness that intrigued her. Did he learn such things among soldiers? If not, where? But how to ask one’s husband why he didn’t have the table manners of a boar? She experienced the sensation of his sleeve brushing hers, of his head and shoulders above hers. He was such a big man.
The silence was pressing on her with a heavy weight. She found herself filling the void with images of the two of them alone in a bedchamber. As her husband, he had the right to do anything he wanted to her, and she could not refuse him. She would be wearing the night rail her mother had given her, and her husband would be wearing…what? Did men wear nightclothes to bed? She didn’t even want to think about that.
“Sir Edmund?” she said.
He glanced sideways at her, said, “Aye?” then took another bite of lamb.
“What is Castle Wintering like?”
Again he gave her that inscrutable glance. “Like?” he echoed almost distastefully. “ ’Tis a place to live, a place to work.”
“Have you always lived there?”
This time he turned his body to face her. On the bench, his knee brushed hers, sending interesting shivers through her. She lowered her lashes and swallowed a spoonful of pigeon pie that she’d barely chewed. It seemed to stick in her throat.
“You are Elizabeth’s cousin, are you not?” he asked.
Bewildered, she nodded.
“Did she not talk of our marriage?”
“Nay, my lord,” she said, unwilling to reveal the few angry things Elizabeth had said.
One of his eyebrows rose, and it was apparent he didn’t believe her. “I was given Castle Wintering as part of my wife’s dowry only two years ago.”
“Oh,” she breathed, realizing he was almost as new to the area as she was. “Then where was your first home?”
He tore a piece of bread from the round loaf. “Too many places to mention.”
Gwyneth didn’t know what to say to that. She sensed he didn’t want her probing deeply, and though she waited, he had no questions of his own.
Amidst conversations and laughter, she sat in pained silence next to the man who wanted to know nothing about her but would expect to share her bed and know her body intimately.
But she certainly wouldn’t feel sorry for herself. At least his scent was pleasant, not unbearable, as the merchant’s had been, and his features were attractive, though hard. He couldn’t be more than ten years older than she. She had known an arranged marriage would be difficult, but she would willingly brave anything, even an indifferent husband, if it meant helping her family.
Edmund looked out across the room and chewed another piece of bread, though it might have tasted like dirt for all he knew. Anything to keep the woman from asking questions. Why couldn’t she make this easy and be afraid of him—though for a moment, he remembered how startled and sick he’d felt when he’d lifted her up and thought she was frightened of his touch. When it had turned out to be his horse—his horse!—he had been almost too relieved.
What was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be having this much trouble remembering who she was.
She acted differently from Elizabeth and her parents, but that was probably part of the plan. When he looked into her seemingly honest face, he was supposed to forget her family and fall under her spell. He glanced sideways at her as she toyed with her stewed fish. Surely that gown was part of the plan, too.
He swigged a mouthful of ale to wash down the dry bread and continued to stare at her now that she wasn’t watching. His height enabled him to look down her bodice, and if she moved the right way, he would see everything. She hadn’t done that yet, but it didn’t keep him from hoping. If he couldn’t touch, at least he could look.
He heard someone clear his throat, and glanced up to see Geoff watching him, a grin stretching his face. Edmund narrowed his eyes at him, but Geoff only raised his goblet in a toast toward Gwyneth, who didn’t seem to know that anything unusual was going on around her.
Geoff mouthed the word “chamber,” and pointed above him. Edmund understood the reference immediately and gave a quick shake of his head. No, he would not take her to bed here. He wanted to be back in his own lair, where he had plenty of places to escape her plots.
“My lord?”
He turned his head and found Gwyneth staring up at him, those golden brown eyes seeing into him, mesmerizing him. This was not a good sign. “What is it?”
“I must…leave the room for a moment.”
Her dark-fringed lashes were lowered, and a becoming blush swept over her cheeks.
“Take your maid with you. I do not want you alone here.”
