Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,91
he had slept last eve. Tousled blond hair evidencing much tossing and turning, he said in a tone less severe than the past four days, “You rise later than usual.”
“Ardith,” she said and glanced behind at the girl who had altered her sleeping position when Nicola extricated herself from bed. Face down on her knees, rear in the air, she snored softly. “Her sleep was poor. They think her too young to remember the family she lost when she was three, but though she does not speak of them in her waking hours, she does so in her sleep and clings to me as if I am one of them.” She looked back at Dougray. “The same as you feel for your Saxon wife and all her people have suffered, I feel.”
His face softened. “And more so for yourself loving a Saxon, I wager.”
Seeing no need to refute what was well known, deeply felt, and no cause for shame, she stepped into the corridor and quietly closed the door. “A wager you win easily. Now if only you would wager he loves me in return and win that one as well.”
She loathed his hesitation, but it was honest.
“I am aware, Dougray,” she said. “Of what use to love me, hmm?” She drew a deep breath. “I know hope can have the high price of greater disappointment, but as it sustains me in the moment, I accept I may have to pay it—and more.”
She did not think he would respond, but he said, “I do not know Vitalis’s fate any more than you, Nicola, but if there is any possibility of saving him, your family will exploit it thoroughly. Do we succeed, we will step back and let happen what happens between the two of you—be it of good fortune for Vitalis, be it of bad should he turn from you.”
Momentarily, she closed her eyes, then she lunged.
He was prepared for the impact. His one arm came around her, and the half that remained of the other following the great battle crossed her upper back to hold her closer.
“It should not hurt so much to love,” she gasped. “It should feel good—only good. It is love, after all, not hate.”
Her brother moved his hand from her waist to her head, pressed it nearer. “I speak from experience I did not believe I would gain the same as Cyr and Guarin, but this I know, Nicola—love between a man and woman, that which is worth having and holding, does not come softly nor easily. Did it, how would it weather life’s storms? And there will be storms, both inside and outside a marriage. Survive what tears at you now, and whether it is Vitalis or another given the keeping of your heart, the stronger you both will be.”
Were those words meant to dry up her tears, they failed, causing her to bury her face in his chest to muffle her sobs. She did not regret the wisdom he passed to her, but in this moment there seemed little use for it where Vitalis was concerned. And she had no desire to apply it to any other man.
Dougray held her a while, then said, “You are of greater strength than this. Not because you are a D’Argent. Because you are Nicola.”
She raised her head. Feeling the wet on her face and sting in her eyes, knowing the mess she looked despite his encouragement, she said, “Nicola who—”
“Non! I will hear no self-pitying words. That is not the Nicola of whom I speak, she who is worthy of love should it be offered her.”
Should it be offered me, the bitter thought sought her tongue, but she would not speak what he did not wish to hear—and rightfully so. This was not the Nicola she wished to be for anyone, especially Vitalis.
She sniffed. “Forgive me. I did not realize how difficult this world from which I have been sheltered. Indeed, I have made light of it whilst others dwelt in the dark. But I am learning, and I shall strive to be less a burden to those who learned before me.”
“I am sorry for it, Nicola, but also glad—providing this painful new awareness keeps you safe.” He released her.
Having no other cloth to hand, she drew up her skirt and wiped her moist face. Then she said, “I suppose you would have me renew my vow to stay out of the cellar and accept no more favors from the prince.”