Page 20 of A Husband for Esyllt
“Seven weeks,” she rectified before thinking.
“Ah. So you kept count?” he asked, eyes gleaming. “I hadn’t dared hope as much.”
“I...”
Esyllt could have kicked herself for falling into his trap. She had not meant to sound as if she’d been languishing in his absence, yet that was exactly what she had done. Though she hated to admit it to herself, time had dragged on without him. She had missed him every day. Obviously, she was a mass of contradictions as well, for how could she feel that way toward someone she had known for such a short time? How could she miss a husband she had never wanted to marry? How could she feel comfortable in the arms of a man she had every reason to be wary of? After what he had done to her on the night of his arrival, she should hate him and consider herself well rid of him.
But instead, she had woken up every morning hoping that this would be the day he would finally come back.
Most of all, she had missed his warm presence at night. Sleeping with someone was a new, pleasurable experience, and even if she had been too shy to do what she wanted to do—press herself against his long body—she had made sure that a part of their bodies touched before she fell asleep. Though she kept her back to him at all times, she liked to feel she was not alone in bed. A toe brushing against his leg or, more daringly, the swell of her buttocks resting against his lean hip, she had been unable to resist the urge to snuggle up to him. One night, the one before his departure, she had woken up in his arms. Whether he had reached out to her in his sleep, or she had been the one nestling herself into his arms, she did not know. Either way, she had been unable to move away, and she had drifted back to sleep with her nose pressed against his neck.
They had only spent seven days together, and yet she had the impression that they had known each other their whole lives.How could that be when they were total strangers, from different countries, who had not desired this union?
She moved away from Connor, realizing that everyone was waiting for him to proceed to the great hall before attending to their own needs. Even Matthew was silent, as if witnessing something extraordinary.
Wishing to re-establish herself in the role of mistress of the place, and in control, Esyllt reverted back to polite civility.
“Will you and your men have a cup of ale, my lord? I wager you have earned it.”
Connor smiled at his wife’s reaction. He was not fooled by the attempt at detachment. She was looking at him with composure and behaving like a chatelaine ought, but there was a flush to her cheeks that made her turmoil clear. Earlier, her body had relaxed in his arms, as if she craved the embrace without even realizing it. Her lips had softened under his, betraying a desire to be kissed she would never have admitted to. It mattered not if she did or not. He knew the truth.
She was pleased to see him, to be held and to be kissed.
How right he had been to demand an extra effort from the exhausted men and horses. When Esgyrn Castle had appeared into view at the edge of the forest, and he’d understood that he could reach it before nightfall if they increased the speed, he had given the order to push on.
And when he’d seen her walk into the bailey, tall and regal in a dark gown that made her skin glow, the impulse to kiss her had been so impervious that he had not even tried to fight it. Unexpectedly, he had missed her too, and now that she was in front of him, he did not wonder why. Just like it had on the night they had met, everything about her drew her to him. She smelled divine, and after being stuck with a retinue of men who hadn’t bathed for a sennight, all he wanted to do was bury his face in her sweet-smelling neck and breathe in deeply.
Leaving Matthew to oversee the men and horses, he followed her into the great hall where a welcome fire was blazing. Though the days were getting warmer at last, with the sun sunk below the horizon, it was growing chilly.
He accepted the cup she was handing him with a nod. “Everything all right here?”
“Of course.” Her eyes narrowed at the question. “To ensure I took care of the domain adequately, is that why you came back so quickly?”
His lips quivered at the use of the word “quickly”. He knew full well she was remonstrating because she had thought his absence too long. Hadn’t she counted the days until they were reunited in the same way he had?
“No. I trust you to have managed Esgyrn Caslte well in my absence,” was all he said. “And now, after a few hard days on the road, I wish for a hearty meal, a warm bath, and a good sleep, in that precise order.”
“I’ll see to it that you get it all, my lord,” Esyllt said, appearing every inch like the meek, dutiful wife he knew she was not.
Finally, sated and refreshed after an excellent meal and a sweet-scented bath, Connor joined Esyllt in her bedchamber. That she had not been sure whether he would come to her or not was obvious from the way she blinked when she saw him in the door frame. As luck would have it, he had caught her just at the right time. She had not had time to put on her dressing gown yet and the linen shift she was wearing was almost transparent. Her hair fell in loose strands over her back and her skin was glowing from her recent ablutions. If ever there had been a sight to rouse a man’s blood, this was it. His blood certainly responded.
“My l-lord,” she stammered. “I thought you would want to sleep in your bed tonight if you’re tired.”
“I don’t. I will sleep here, like I did before I left.”
Nothing could have made him admit it, but he was dying to touch her. He had almost added that after his bath, and before his sleep, he needed a wild romp between the sheets with his wife but he knew that was not the way to go about it. Eventually he would bed her, but he would have to wait, not pounce on her the night of his return like a sailor jumping on the first whore he saw upon reaching shore. Some finesse was required here.
“Tell me about your first husband,” he asked instead, surprising her—and himself with the demand.
“Why?”
“You do not need to know why to answer me. I know he was older than you, but I don’t know much more.” He couldn’t have said why he wanted to know, so it was better to invoke his right as a husband to have his wishes obeyed. Esyllt didn’t seem impressed but she answered nonetheless.
“At the death of my parents, I was seventeen. Gwyn married me. He had been one of my father’s closest friends and they had arranged the union between them when Father lay on his deathbed.” She let out a laugh that held no humor. “Believe it or not, he had wanted to prevent an unscrupulous English lord from claiming me, or rather Castell Esgyrn and my extensive domains, for himself. It seems he was right to fear such an eventuality, for that is exactly what happened.”
Fear... The word sat ill with Connor.
“I am English, and I am a lord,” he agreed, crossing his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t necessarily follow that you will be ill-used.”,
