Page 45 of A Husband for Esyllt
“I’m sorry. This must have been so hard to hear.”
She nodded. “I refused, but he begged me for days. I could see his suffering, hear his cries of agony at night. Unable to stand it any longer, I went to see a wise woman. I asked her for some brew that would... put an end to it all. Still, I hesitated. One particularly bad evening I prepared it, following her instructions, and I told Gwyn about it when he called meto his side. As soon as I had spoken, he had a kitchen scullion brought up. He asked if she had seen me prepare anything that day. When she said that she had, he asked her to bring the potion to him.”
“Hadn’t you placed it in a safe place?” It seemed incredible she would have left such a lethal drink lying around.
“Yes, of course, but he ordered the girl to find it on pain of dismissal, knowing full well I would not allow him to punish her so drastically when she could not find it. I was forced to reveal to her where I had hidden the vial.” A sob escaped her lips. This confession was costing her, but he would be there for her. He gave the hand he was still holding a squeeze. “Once she had brought it to him, he kissed me one last time and ordered me out of the room. His squire found him dead in the morning, the empty vial on the bed by his side.”
She lowered her head, the weight of the guilt heavy on her shoulders. Connor gave her a moment to collect herself before speaking.
“Esyllt, listen to me. You didn’t murder your husband, or even kill him.” He lifted her chin so that she could meet his eye. “He chose to drink the potion, he killed himself because he could not bear to live anymore. I am sure he wouldn’t want you to torture yourself for helping him, for doing what he’d begged you to do, many times. He was dying a painful, slow death and he knew it. You gave him the means to put an end to his suffering, at his request, that is not the same at all as killing him.”
“Deep down, I know it. I just can’t seem to accept it.” She stared into his eyes and he felt his chest tighten. Dear God, she was so beautiful. So vulnerable.
“Why did you tell me you had killed your first husband the day of her wedding?” he asked, lifting her chin slightly.
“I-I wanted you to be wary of me. I thought that if you were scared of what I might do it would be my best defence againstthe revenge you would inflict on me in retaliation for what I had made you go through the night before, when I thought you were your squire.” She shrugged. “How silly of me. How could a man like you ever be afraid of me?”
Her words hit him hard. She’d been afraid of retaliation, and he’d never seen it, never thought to reassure her.
“Oh, Esyllt, there was no need to try and protect yourself. I never intended to make you pay for anything, much less hurt you.” He gave her cheek a tender stroke. Hurt a woman?Thiswoman? Never! “In any case, your plan did not work.”
“No, of course not. How could you have taken any threat I represented seriously? You’re a knight in your prime, and I’m just a woman.”
Just a woman. He could not help a smile. Did she have any idea of the power she had over him? Apparently not.
“I mean that warning me to stay away from you was not enough to make me wary of what you might do, or unwilling to be with you.” He leaned in, ever so slightly. “Surely you saw that?”
“I don’t know,” she breathed, when his thumb started to brush her skin in small, rhythmic strokes. Her cheek was so soft he could not repress a groan.
“We were interrupted yesterday.” As he spoke, his loins caught fire. Interrupted during the best, most sensual kiss of his life. “But we are alone now and I don’t think anyone will come riding past.”
“No.”
“So, will you let me undress you, Esyllt?” he rasped, almost mad with the need to see her body. “I need to see you.”
“Yes.” She sounded dazed.
“Then stand up.”
As soon as she did, he placed himself behind her, so he could unlace her bodice. In that position, all he could think about washow delicate she was compared to him. When he touched the front of her gown, he frowned.
“Your clothes are wet.”
“It... It rained rather heavily on the ride back from the village.”
Yes, the village, where he’d sent her alone. Connor clenched his teeth. As if he didn’t feel guilty enough about that, now he was told she’d had to endure foul weather while on horseback. “Will you?—”
“I have forgiven you already,” she breathed. “Please, don’t stop. I’m cold.”
A growl escaped Connor’s throat. “Not to worry, soon you’ll be burning.”
The wet gown was disposed of, then the shift, which, mercifully was only very slightly damp.
Facing her once again, he slid his hands along her arms to come and encircle her waist, then squeezed her buttocks gently, forcing her to mold herself against him. She gave a whimper, as if no one had touched that part of her body before. In all probability, no one had. Her late husband, if he’d looked after her adequately during the day, had apparently not made the most of having a woman like her in his bed at night. Connor swore he would not make the same mistake.
The time to consummate their marriage had come.
With much less delicacy than he had used with her, he disposed of his hose. Thank Christ he had not been wearing much, for he could not wait to feel her against him. Once he was naked, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her toward him, not even trying to hide the proof of his desire for her. Though she blushed, she did not seem worried or afraid or even surprised. Good. Perhaps the lessons in handling male nudity had not been in vain.
