Page 61 of The Knight Who Loved Me
“You’re naive, sweetheart. Many people care.”
“She’s the heiress to Mansfield! And she’s a misguided, confused girl?—”
“You make it sound as if I married a child. And as for confused?—”
“James, imagine what she must feel like in a strange place, with no one to turn to except a husband who either ridicules her or fights her.”
“But I didn’t?—”
“You need to be more patient with her. ’Tis obvious you feel some attraction.”
“You don’t build a marriage on ‘attraction,’ Margery. Maybe you need to start considering more men as potential husbands so you’ll learn this.”
“None of them appeal to me. I’ll know, James, just as Reynold seemed to know.”
The comfortable atmosphere between them vanished. James narrowed his eyes and stared into the flames as if they could sear his memories away. “I do not wish to discuss him.”
“James, you’re both my brothers. Can you imagine how I feel, having you angry with each other? You know that Edmund’s death was a training accident, that Reynold did not mean for him to die.”
“Reynold seduced my betrothed away from me,” he said coldly. “How should I forgive that?”
“And you had her kidnapped?—”
“For her protection.”
“—and she almost died.”
“Which I did not intend to happen.”
Margery sighed. “I am not blaming you. You did what you thought was right during the war. And I cannot deny that it was successful, that we lost none of our lands as so many others did. But can’t you accept that neither Reynold nor Katherine planned to fall in love and betray you, just as you did not mean for Katherine to be endangered?”
James frowned, but didn’t answer.
“I just ask you to think on what this rift between you is doing to our family.”
In a low voice, he said, “Even if I wanted to speak to Reynold, he would not see me. It is for the best.”
She shook her head sadly. “I won’t accept that. Someday, I want to have both of my brothers at my wedding, celebrating together.”
James took his leave and walked to his bedchamber. He found his wife dripping wet, wearing only a linen cloth. Annie was emptying the tub. He motioned Annie to the door and she said her good-nights.
Using a second towel, Isabel dried her hair, keeping her eyes on the floor and ignoring him.
“That was quite a performance,” James finally said, taking a seat before the hearth. “You couldn’t wait to get up here and bathe, could you?”
When he saw the small smile curve her lips, he didn’t know whether he wanted to shake her or kiss her passionately. He wanted to rip off the towel and seduce her, as was his right—but what kind of man would that make him? He’d become just like the man who’d already taken her virginity, the man who’d hurt her.
Instead he felt helpless as his wife turned her back and dropped the towel. Her hips were exquisitely round, her back a delicate long curve. As she reached for a clean shirt, he could see the edge of her breast and the lithe muscles of her arm.
Whydidn’the just seduce her? Hell, he’d just used a sword against his wife, when with one slip he could have killed her—and he thought she’d enjoyed it as much as he had.
The shirt fell in long folds down Isabel’s body, hiding what he craved. She walked toward him, carrying a blanket. He didn’t even pretend to look at her face.
“Are you sleeping before the fire,” she said, “or am I?”
Very slowly, he let his gaze travel up her body. She looked at him directly, unafraid, but her cheeks were flushed red.
He stood up and stepped aside. She lay down on the rug before the fire and wrapped herself in her blanket. Was he being a fool, waiting for her to come to him?
