a thing. “Edward is a strong king, but he is not a god, mistress. Do not for one moment mistake him for one. He would not thank you for it.”
“Do you know him well?” she asked curiously.
Edward nodded, and when he spoke, his voice was low and gruff. “Aye. As well as I know myself.” Never in his life had he pretended to be other than who he was, and he didn’t like it. This pretense was becoming difficult to manage. Perhaps he should speak and end it now. “Lass,” he began, his eyes meeting hers across their clasped hands.
“Yes?”
He opened his mouth to confess, but the words wouldn’t come. Faith, she was lovely. What would she do when she found out? Would the trust shining forth from those incredible eyes fade and disappear forever? Nay, he couldn’t risk it.
From the time Edward was fourteen years old, women came willingly to his bed, grateful for his attention for as long as it lasted. Occasionally he wondered if seduction came as easily to every well-favored man who wasn’t king of England. Just once he would like to find out for himself what it felt like to be an ordinary man alone with a pretty maid.
He swallowed. “You are very lovely.”
She did not blush or simper or even look away. “Thank you,” she said instead.
“Are you betrothed?”
She thought of David Murray and the excuses she’d come up with over the years to put him off. Deep in the furthest recesses of her soul, Mairi knew that she would not marry him. Not now. “Not really.”
“What does that mean?”
“Only that I’ve been asked and, until now, had considered the possibility.”
“What changed your mind?”
She looked directly at him. “You.”
He stared at her, aghast. “Lass,” he croaked, searching desperately for a safe reply. “I can’t—I didn’t—”
Her eyes danced with laughter. “You needn’t panic,” she teased. “I won’t post the banns until you are completely well.”
Drawing a deep, restoring breath, he settled back against the pillows. “You are a minx, Mairi of Shiels,” he said when he could trust himself to speak again. “Have you no scruples? You nearly stopped my heart.”
“Would it be so dreadful?” she countered.
Once again heat rose in his loins. His eyes moved from her face to the sweet curve of her breasts. What would it be like to take her here and now, when the singing of her blood reached out to him, demanding fulfillment? It wasn’t possible. He hadn’t the strength for it. The scent of roses wafted from her hair. She was direct and unafraid. He would be direct in return. “Are you a maid?” he asked gently.
She did not look away. “Aye. Does it matter?”
“The issue is of some importance,” he replied. “There are those to whom an untouched bride is a necessity.”
“What of you, m’lord?”
He considered her question carefully. For purposes of succession, virginity was required in a queen. He thought of his wedding night with Eleanor. Three lords, the high chamberlain included, had waited and listened outside the cloistering bed curtains. The consummation of a royal marriage was an affair of state. He had acquitted himself admirably and taken her no less than three times that night. Poor lass. She hadn’t enjoyed it nearly as much as he had. Not that the night had been particularly memorable for him either. Untouched virgins were not the most satisfactory of bed partners. Edward preferred lustier wenches who knew what a man expected between the sheets.
Mairi’s expression was serious as she waited for his answer. Her eyes held a question in their depths and something else that could not be denied. Suddenly, it meant a great deal that she had never known another man. Edward felt the racing of pulse. Blood drummed in his temples. What had come over him? He was no debaucher of innocent virgins. He was the king of England, and Eleanor waited for him in London. Mairi of Shiels wasn’t a woman to be tumbled for a single night’s easy sport, and he knew, without a doubt, she would never agree to be any man’s mistress. His eyes moved over her face. It was no wonder he had considered it. A saint would be tempted by this woman with the face of legends.
He cleared his throat and answered her question. “Virginity is less important to me than loyalty. It matters little whether a woman has known another man before she takes her vows as long as she knows only her husband after.”