In the Shadow of Midnight - By Marsha Canham Page 0,107
thick and dark enough to join in a single line when he frowned. Intimidating, she thought, unless those creases and furrows were caused by uncertainty and indecision.
The scar was still an unavoidable detriment to his laying waste to a score of women’s hearts. She suspected he did not weep for the loss, but used their aversion to his own advantage, keeping everyone at a safe distance who might otherwise want to know too many of the secrets he kept locked inside.
His eyes were by far his most unnerving feature as well as his most formidable weapon. They could reduce a woman’s pity to ashes on a single glance, or freeze her warmest intentions without ever giving her a reason why. Long-lashed and deep-set, they held more secrets than she would ever know, more loneliness than he would ever reveal. A trait they appeared to share, Ariel concluded, since she had never felt more lonely or abandoned as she did when his hands finished their task and dropped away.
“Have you not had your fill of questions answered?” he mused, aware of how closely she had been studying him.
“I only have one more,” she said quietly. “Why did you stop?”
“You wanted more?” he asked, attempting a wry smile. “Rather greedy of you, I must say.”
“You assure me I am still a virgin. Did you deny yourself the pleasure of taking my maidenhead because you wished to prove yourself so much more able to resist earthly urges than I … or because you deemed it to be of so little value to anyone other than a Welsh brigand?”
He stared at her until her knees threatened to buckle beneath her and Ariel thought: definitely ashes. Ashes and ice, because he does not know whether he should hate me … or pity me.
“Your uncle places a very high value on more than just your virginity,” he said flatly.
“Ahh yes, the oath he made you swear … to deliver me to my groom unhurt, unblemished, untouched …” She paused and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “But it would seem, since I have been hurt—with the result that I do bear a blemish—and I have been somewhat touched … would not all three parts of your oath appear to have already been broken?”
“They may have been bent slightly, but not broken. Not entirely.”
“Such a noble distinction.”
“Nonetheless, a distinction worth maintaining. A man’s sworn oath is the foundation of his honour. How much would you trust me if I paid so little heed to the difference between the bending and the breaking of vows?”
“No less than I trust you now,” she said simply. “With my life.”
She had startled him. She could see it in the silvery depths of his eyes and in the absolute stillness of the powerful body. She also thought she could see, as suddenly and as clearly as if someone had blown a film of dust off her eyes, that it was not the vow to her uncle he was intent upon preserving so much as it was the vow he had made to another.
“It is because of her, isn’t it?” she asked slowly. “Because of the vow you made to her.”
Eduard frowned and the intensity of his gaze faltered under a wave of genuine confusion. “Who …?”
“Her. The woman who is luring you back to England! Are her charms so much more desirable than mine, or is it just her jewelry that attracts you?” She did not wait for an answer, but paced to the hearth and stood trembling in front of the bright flames, unaware that in doing so, her tunic became all but transparent. “You did not seem to be a man governed by wealth or greed, but I suppose I must be proven wrong in this aspect of your character too.”
Eduard’s eyes narrowed. His flesh was still thick and hot and pulsing with hunger for this woman, yet his hands were aching to reach out and shake her. It was not the first time the two desires had overlapped, and not the least of the reasons why he considered the thinking processes of most women to be far beyond his mortal comprehension.
“Might I know the reason why my character has so suddenly fallen into decline?”
“You lied to me about not having a lady love. And lest you try to shrug me off again, I will tell you I have seen the ring you wear next to your heart. I saw it the first morning, by the river.”