Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,42

but today they were bolted shut to keep out the smoke and din of battle.

But Gavina could still hear the roar of the attack, even through the thick wood and stone. The keep shuddered then, a reminder of what raged beyond these walls.

Slowing her pace as nerves danced in her belly, Gavina led Draco across the floor toward a closed door. “My bed-chamber is through here,” she murmured, deliberately avoiding his gaze.

This felt all wrong, as if she were watching the scene unfold from a distance.

This wasn’t happening to her, was it?

Draco continued to say nothing, which only added to her discomfort. His silence had a weight to it.

Like the women’s solar, her bed-chamber was dimly lit. The room was spacious—or it had seemed so before Draco Vulcan stepped into it. He was still holding her hand, and Gavina wanted to pull away, to take a few much-needed steps back from him. Although to extricate herself from him would seem rude. Especially in light of what they were about to do.

“Gavina,” he murmured finally, his voice a deep rumble in the silent chamber. “You’re going to have to look at me … sooner or later.” There was a note of male amusement in his tone, rather than chastisement.

Sucking in a deep breath for courage, Gavina lifted her chin and met his eye.

“I’m sorry to put you through this,” he said, his mouth lifting at the corners. “I’m not in the habit of coercing women into lying with me.” Gavina found herself staring at his lips then, remembering that tender kiss before the chapel. It had been brief, and yet her reaction had been startling. On the few occasions David had kissed her, she’d never leaned into his embrace. However, Draco’s next words made her raise her gaze to his. “But we won’t be man and wife without it.”

Gavina tried to steady her breathing. She was so nervous now she felt queasy.

He’s yer husband.

Draco unbalanced her. The man was rude and arrogant, his manner grating, and yet he was making an attempt to go softly. His assurance, as well as his directness, steadied her. After the performance she’d put on for the chaplain, she wanted to keep this scene real. There was no need for mummery now. They both knew why they were here, and what needed to be done.

Nonetheless, it didn’t stop her belly from pitching as if she were trying to row a rickety boat across a storm-swept sea.

Could she actually go through with this?

I must … for my friends.

Draco released her hand then, but didn’t step away. Instead, he reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m not a good man, Gavina … but even I find this situation … difficult.” His voice had roughened slightly, and Gavina wondered at the cause. Could it be that he was actually nervous too?

Gavina gave a brittle laugh. “Ye mean I’m the first woman ye’ve been forced to wed?”

He flashed her an unexpected smile then, the expression transforming his face. “You are the first woman I’ve ever wed.”

The admission made her suck in a surprised breath. “Really?”

“I’ve made an art of avoiding such entanglements … until now.” He paused then, his smile fading. “And I prefer my women … willing.”

Gavina tensed. She remembered then her wedding night with David. They’d been virtual strangers, but nevertheless, she’d looked forward to becoming his wife. She’d had notions of a tender scene between them in the bed-chamber. Instead, the encounter had been brief and passionless. Afterward, David had sneered at Gavina and said that bedding her was like swiving a dead flounder.

She’d never forgiven him for that.

“Can I ask what made you change your mind?” he asked, still holding her gaze. “When I spoke to you yesterday, you seemed set against wedding me.”

“I thought on what ye said,” she replied, “and on the fact that I’d be helping those who matter most to me.” Gavina attempted a brittle smile then. “In the end, it’s just marriage, isn’t it?”

He inclined his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Just marriage?”

“Well,” she said, uncomfortable now under the directness of his gaze. “I suppose we should get this over with.”

He snorted. “I’m afraid you aren’t helping. You sound as if you’re preparing to have a boil lanced rather than be bedded.”

Gavina’s eyes widened. A moment later, mirth bubbled up inside her, and she laughed. The look of wounded male pride on his face settled her nerves a little. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I’m nervous.