to his chest and held her close with one arm, and she made no move to pull away. Truthfully she wanted to be held, and felt almost loved.
Almost. He’d told her already that he did not love her, but was it too much to ask that he feel something? That when he moved to touch her shoulders, caress her arms and kiss her neck that there be emotion behind the act? Did he feel something now? Was that where the source of his patience came from?
“Are ye not angry with me for listening behind the door?”
“You were happy when Holton claimed to have a desire to visit you.” He reminded her, ignoring her question.
Bitterness swelled inside her. “Aye, and instead he comes only because there is no other place to go.”
William squeezed her. “Calm yourself,”
“I do not wish to calm myself!” She shrieked, spinning to yell at his face, but all that would come out were her broken moans. “He is right, I did this. ‘Twas bad enough when Archer was given to you, never to see his wife and child again, but now Clovis as well, and the others are to work in the home of that pig. My home.”
William raised a brow. “You still believe the Ferdinand Home is your home?”
She looked at him. “Ferdinand Home?”
“He surely would not keep it under the old name, whether he plans to sell it or not.”
Marianne moaned louder, and since Archer was no longer present, she slid her arms under William’s and held him tightly, taking her comfort from him.
She barely noticed how his body tightened under her, no doubt shocked by her initiative, but she needed this. When he put his arms around her she found the stables decidedly less chilly.
They were silent, and Marianne’s tears came with no sobs. “I should have done as my father asked, and none of this would have happened.”
His arms tightened around her. “You would rather take back your actions than face the consequences?”
She pulled away from him. “’Tis not like that! I would just rather those men did not have to be without their families!”
William’s face unexpectedly softened. “Tell me, what are the names of Archer’s and Clovis’s wives?”
A foolish hope sprung in her chest. “Molly is Archer’s wife and Hawisa is Clovis’s.”
“And are they young women? Beautiful?”
The hope was replaced with an angry spark. William saw had to cut her off before she could scream at him like she did with the servants.
He gave her one hard shake. “Get that foolish thought out of your head. I am not one to sniff around the gowns of other women.”
“Most married men would not hold the same opinion as you do.”
His glare was brief before vanishing into a calm mask over his face. He said nothing to her.
Marianne blushed and wished she could control her emotions better. Strange how it never seemed to be as much of a problem until she married William and he made it his mission to point out that particular fault. Of course, he also seemed to like that fault in her.
“Forgive me, ‘tis just—”
He captured her chin and lifted it so that she faced him. “Your nose looks odd when it faces downward like that.” He lifted it higher, smiling when satisfied. “I much prefer it to be here.”
Marianne felt that she would overheat at any moment if he did not stop. She swallowed hard and forced herself to go on, but her wretched emotions put a stutter in her voice.
“My lord … if … if you will kindly explain your interest in the servant women…”
“My interest in them is naught like my interest in you,”
He moved closer and Marianne expected him to kiss her. She felt such fire that she welcomed the thought of it.
He pulled away from her instead. “Forgive me, I know I have promised that we would become more … knowledgeable of each other, but I must be away tonight.”
Marianne felt like she had been thrown into a lake of disappointment and frustration. “Away? Where?”
He took a loose strand of her red hair into his fingers and twirled it around. “I will not be away for long, while I’m gone I expect you not to brawl with Blaise, or leave the castle grounds,” he said sternly. “Or else Adam will tell me and I shall have to put you over my knee.”
Had she feathers they would have bristled. “But you would never—”
“By now you should know perfectly well that I have never truly harmed a