Page 80 of Enticing the Devil

“To tell the truth,” Anne said, “I did not wish to marry Beynon. And he did not wish to marry me.”

Glynnis gave her a dubious look even as the corner of her mouth curled in amusement. “But of course he did or you wouldn’t be here now.”

Anne felt compelled to correct the woman’s assumption. “The circumstances are a bit difficult to explain.”

“Nonsense. He compromised you, didn’t he?”

Anne nodded.

“Then he made a choice. One I know he wouldn’t have made lightly.” The older woman paused then made a face that suggested she was slightly pained. “This is a rather awkward thing to say about one’s son to his new bride, but considering the circumstances, there is something you should know about my oldest.”

Anne’s breath caught. “Perhaps you shouldn’t...” she began carefully, thinking of Beynon’s response if he knew his mother was about to tell some secret—even as she was desperate for any bit of insight to the man she’d married.

The older woman quickly waved off Anne’s half-hearted protest. “Since the current earl is acknowledging his siblings, I assume you know of the circumstances surrounding Beynon’s birth.” Anne nodded and she continued with a soft smile. “Well, from a very young age, Beynon has been painfully aware of the consequences that can result from careless...passions. Because of that, he’s always been very selective about who he’s taken to bed. He’s certainly never dallied with an innocent. If his actions with you went against such strictly enforced behaviors, it reveals one powerful truth.”

She smiled again. “He wanted you, my dear. Badly. Do not doubt that for a second.”

Anne wished the woman’s words had given her some confidence, but they really only reinforced what she already knew. “From what I understand, lust can make a man do many things he otherwise wouldn’t.”

“True,” Glynnis replied thoughtfully before narrowing her gaze a bit. “And are such passions reciprocated, my lady?”

Anne’s quick blush answered the question the easily enough.

With a sigh, Beynon’s mother reached for Anne’s hands. Her grip was warm and gentle but no less secure. There was strength in the woman’s hands, but it was a quiet, constant sort of strength.

Her dark eyes held Anne’s as she said, “Many happy marriages have started with less. Miserable marriages, as well,” she added bluntly. “Only time will tell what this one will prove to be.”

Then she leaned toward Anne to ask intently, “Now, tell me...did you win?”

“What?” Anne blinked.

“The games? Did you win?”

“Yes, we did, actually.”

Glynnis clapped her hands and a delighted little smile curved her mouth. “Of course you did.”

#

BEYNON CONSIDERED WAITING outside his mother’s room for Anne then quickly decided against it. His mother had made it very clear she wished to have a private word with his bride. Despite a deep rebellious streak, he’d never gone against his mam’s express wishes and sure as hell didn’t intend to start now.

He couldn’t imagine what his mother and Anne might have to speak about, but he supposed it wasn’t his business. The women, despite their obvious differences, would be sharing a household and would have to sort through that fact in their own way.

So, instead of lurking in the upper story hallway, he made his way downstairs. There was a great deal to be done now that he was home again. He quickly discovered the carriage had already been unloaded and had been brought round to the barn. Aron was tending to the horses while Eirwyn had seen to refreshment for their driver.

His oldest sister was just coming from the kitchen as he reentered the house. They met in the cozy entryway between the front parlor and the study, which would always feel like his stepfather’s despite the fact Beynon had been using it since the man’s passing.

They paused and assessed each other in a disturbingly similar manner.

Beynon was the first to speak. “Anything I need to be aware of regarding the farm?”

The girl shrugged. “Nothing in particular. The main flock is in the northern pasture. Gilly had her foal a fortnight ago. All is in readiness for shearing at Michaelmas.”

Not for the first time, Beynon considered how close in age Caillie and Eirwyn were. Only a couple years apart. Perhaps that was why he’d felt such a quick kinship with his sister in England.

When he’d first learned of his sire’s other offspring, he never intended to meet any of them. The prior Earl of Wright had been a despicable, selfish man who’d spread his seed in a decade-long act of vengeance against an unfaithful wife. Beynon had absolutely no desire to connect to anyone else associated with such a man.

It had been his mother who’d finally insisted he accept the invitation from the earl’s heir. Beynon had gone to London more than two years ago with the intention of never allowing his two families to meet. He saw no purpose and no good of such a thing.

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