Page 24 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
I wasn’t done with him. “I’ll still marry you. I’ll make the sacrifice because you so carefully ruined me, and for the sake of my family’s reputation, and I hope you’re happy with the icy temperature of your marriage bed.” I turned to storm away.
Elder popped out of the air in front of me.
I shrieked, and without knowing how, I found myself standing next to my betrothed. Pretty sure I jumped. “Don’t do that!” I told Elder.
He pointed at me. “You have your deal.”
“What?”
“You win. Your tirade was so loud it pulled me from the depths of cold stone to agree to your deal.”
“Mytirade?” I gestured up and down at Prince Escalus. “Did you hear what hesaid?”
“Yes.” Elder wore that same smooth expression his son had worn; I guess I knew where Younger had learned it. “It was unworthy of him.”
This conversation did nothing to improve my rage. “But he’s yoursonand aman,so you’re giving him a pass?”
“I’d speak to him if he could hear me, about the courtesy owed to Lady Juliet and your family.” Then, as if I must need clarification, he enunciated clearly, “He can’t hear me.” More briskly he added, “Anyway, you did a fine job of stripping him of pretension. You’d be a good wife to him. But you wouldn’t be a merry wife, so again I say—you have your deal. When you discover my killer, I’ll deliver you to your One True Love.”
Wisely, I was not without suspicion. “Why do you care whether I’m a merry wife?”
Elder quoted the old adage. “ ‘Merry wife, have no strife.’ My son deserves a pliant wife who adores him.”
“As do all men, no doubt. What do women deserve in a husband?”
Puzzled, he frowned. “I don’t comprehend the question.”
“Of course, you don’t.” I nodded to him. “So it shall be done.”
Elder popped away as suddenly as he’d come.
In a neutral tone, my betrothed asked, “My father returned? For what reason?”
“He believes you deserve a ‘pliant wife’ who ‘adores’ you.”
“I wantyou.”
That was funny, in its way, and telling, but I was on a rampage. “You’ve got a damned funny way of showing it!” I drew breath. “I have four given names, did you know that?”
“No.” He was cautious, for not even his most royal and exalted self bore no more than one name and the name of his house.
“My name is Rosaline Hortensa Magdelina . . . Eleanor. My father chose Rosaline in the hopes his baby daughter would be chaste and worthy. Hortensa and Magdelina are my grandmothers, and necessary to keep the tenuous peace between the families. Eleanor was the name my mother chose. Perhaps even you can discern her intention to honor her friend.” I flounced away from Prince Escalus.
He hurried after me and touched my arm.
I swung on him. “What?”
“If we wish to go to dinner, it’s back that way.” He pointed in the opposite direction.
“Of course. I’m off course.” Spinning again, I stalked toward the candlelight that spilled from a broad opening.
He murmured something I knew I didn’t want to hear and followed me.
As I passed, I glimpsed movement off to the side. Once more from behind the drapes, I saw the thin, pale, sad face. Orsa of the kitchen. Not a girl as I’d first thought, but a woman, peering pitifully at me, and when I looked right at her, she dropped the brocade to cover herself.
As I advanced toward the dining room, I could hear the ever-increasing murmur of conversation, and I knew a vast relief that I was about to join the families and a vast perturbation that despite all vows, I’d lost my temper.
Notfrequently,but more than once. Yes, definitely it could be described as more than once, but not frequently. More frequently than I had for years, and more vigorously, but—
