Page 89 of Enticing the Devil

When she awoke again, it was to the harsh light of morning and the cooling sheets of an empty bed. With a clenching sadness, she realized he hadn’t said a single thing throughout their lovemaking.

Not even low whispered words in Welsh.

Chapter Thirty-one

Anne walked through the barn, trailing her fingers along the rough wood of the low stall walls. In a few short weeks, it would be Michaelmas, a time when the sheep would be brought down from their high-level pastures to be clipped one last time before colder weather set in.

Anne was looking forward to the holiday. Not only would she finally have a chance to observe and possibly participate in one of the farm’s major events, but she hoped it would require Beynon’s oversight, which meant he’d actually be nearby for a change.

It had been several days since she’d woken after their night together to discover not only that her menses had arrived but also that her husband had left Gwaynynog. She’d learned of his departure from Glynnis, who hadn’t bothered to hide her look of concern as she explained she wasn’t sure where her son had gone or how long he’d be away.

Anne had tried not to take his sudden exodus personally. It was certainly possible he had planned the trip before she’d caught him sneaking into their bedroom...and what had come after.

But deep in her heart, she suspected otherwise. He’d left because of her.

Though a quiet sort of sadness filled her at the knowledge that no child grew in her womb, she focused instead on her anger over Beynon’s sudden departure. It was the anger that kept her from hiding in her bedroom in melancholy and regret. It motivated her to redouble her efforts to learn how to cook and speak Welsh. It encouraged her to explore more of the rugged farmland with the children as her guides—a generosity she repaid by offering lessons in painting and archery. It urged her to take on more household management tasks, which led to the discovery that the farm was more profitable than she’d realized and that Beynon was in fact rather wealthy and had not been in need of her dowry at all.

Unfortunately, her quietly smoldering ire did not keep her from gazing out across rolling pastures or down the curving dirt lane, hoping for a glimpse of Beynon’s return. Her relentless scanning of the horizon was becoming quite annoying. So much so that, after a week of repeating the frustrating habit, Anne decided to forgo her daily walk and chose instead to tuck herself away in the barn, where it was quiet and dim and the scent of dirt and dried hay filled the air.

As she strolled in and out of the faint shafts of sunlight that filtered between gaps in the weathered boards, she decided she rather liked the earthiness of the place. She liked the textures and colors. And on days like today, when the children were all off splashing about in a nearby creek, she liked the solitude of the empty building.

She spent a couple hours seated on a small wooden chair in the corner of the barn as she sketched images and impressions of her time in Denbighshire. Realizing it was nearly time to start preparing the midday meal, she’d just collected her things and rose to her feet when she heard someone approaching. It took only another moment to recognize Beynon’s long, purposeful stride.

Holding her breath, she remained where she was, hoping it was not just her willful imagination that had Beynon suddenly appearing in the sun-drenched doorway. But he looked far too good to her starved gaze to be anything but the real thing.

She’d loved seeing him in formal wear the night of Lily’s ball, his black hair combed back from his face, his boots polished to a shine.

But she loved him like this even more.

He was dressed casually in trousers and dusty boots, with his coat removed and held in one hand, his sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and the collar of his shirt opened to reveal a light sheen of sweat at the base of his throat. Since she hadn’t heard the approach of a horse, she assumed he’d walked home from wherever he’d been. His thick hair had been tousled by the wind and fell in unruly waves that made her fingers curl with the desire to run them through the satiny locks.

But the most devastating detail of all was that he’d obviously forgone his daily shave while he’d been gone. A thick beard darkened his jaw and accentuated his rugged features. He looked wild and harsh and just a bit dangerous. Anne’s belly clenched and her heart thundered in a swift visceral response as longing claimed her with an almost debilitating force.

Since the interior of the barn was significantly darker than the summer day outside, it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust before he finally caught sight of her in the corner. As soon as he did, he came to a quick halt.

It was far too late for him to turn and walk away, though she could see by the sudden darkening of his expression that was exactly what he wished he could do.

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