Twelfth Night Betrothal

Chapter 8

“Is anything the matter?”

Flynn gritted his teeth. Since Heather was making it easy for him to voice what was bothering him, he would tell her. He had taken her for a walk in the rose garden that afternoon. It was just as uninspiring as the day before, but her company allowed him to overlook the forlorn, skeletal bushes lining the gravel-covered paths.

“Are you truly a widow?”

He had not meant to be that blunt or to sound accusatory, but still he did not offer any apologies. He wanted to know. He needed to know. The notion had tortured him all night.

Heather swallowed and averted her gaze, providing him with the answer. “I am. I’m sorry, I-I thought you knew. Everyone here does.”

“I told you, I don’t know anyone here, except Alistair.” No, he most definitely hadn’t known. And she looked far too young for him to have suspected she’d been married once already. Hell, only yesterday he’d thought her an innocent virgin!

He waited, making it clear he would not be satisfied unless she provided him with more details. He needed to know everything, needed to know just how big a challenge it would be for him to compete with the earl in her affection.

“My husband passed away three months ago. He was older than me but not by any means an old man. I guess his extravagant lifestyle caught up with him in the end, and…” She stopped. “I’m sorry, I don’t like talking about it.”

“I understand. You don’t like being reminded of your loss.” He gritted his teeth. Evidently, she still had not gotten over his death. It was just as he had feared.

“No.” To his surprise, she halted and stared at him square in the eye. “Rather, I don’t like being reminded of the marriage. That was why I was glad you came to my rescue the other day. I could not bear to hear the women fawn over my husband when he made me so miserable. He does not deserve it.”

So it was just like Alistair had said. Heather seemed to be the only woman around who did not think her late husband the best man to have graced the earth. Why? Although she had just said she would not welcome a discussion about him, there was one thing he needed to know.

“Was he violent with you?”

A pause. Too long to be reassuring.

“Not…exactly.”

Flynn clenched his teeth. That answer was even less reassuring. “What does that mean?”

She hesitated. “He never hit me, if that’s what you mean. But for all that, he made my life hell. I think he hated me.”

“ Hated you?”

This was the last thing he had expected to hear. How could anyone hate such a sweet-natured, enchanting woman?

“I believe he resented me for his inability to perform adequately in bed and father the heir he desperately wanted,” she said in a breath. “He had married me hoping that a young and healthy if not pretty bride, as he used to call me, might prove the solution to his problem, but he never could get aroused. I’m sorry, I realize this must be embarrassing for you,” she whimpered, hiding her face in her hands.

“I’m not embarrassed,” he assured her instantly. Incensed on her behalf, rather. Jesus, but the man had been a bastard! Calling her a “healthy if not pretty bride,” blaming her for his inability to get hard! What had been the man’s problem? He’d had her in his bed, in his arms, and he still had not managed to perform? Hell, Flynn was hard as a poker every time he looked at her.

So maybe she was still a virgin after all. Had the earl even managed to consummate the marriage if he thought her so undesirable? What sort of a monstrous wedding night had she had to endure? The various questions must have shown on his face because she reddened.

“I am not untouched, if that is what you’re wondering. He didn’t want anyone questioning the validity of our union or his virility, so in the end he used his…h-hand to…” She bit her bottom lip. “And months of trying ensured I did not… Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! You don’t want to hear all this.”

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Damnation! They were in full view of everyone, but what wouldn’t he give to draw her into his arms, after what she’d admitted, and kiss her senseless. “It’s all right. You don’t have to say any more. I understand.”

Yes. He understood all too well. Her marriage had been hell, in and out of bed, and because of that he might well have a chance at wooing her. Alistair had been right. What had been devastating news at first could well play to his advantage.

“Thank you.”

The small voice tugged at his heart. “Why are you thanking me?” he asked.

She shook her head. “For not mocking me.”

“Mocking you?” What did she take him for? How could she think he would mock her when she had revealed something so shameful and personal? “The only person I could mock is your fool of a husband. He is the one at fault, the only one who’s done something wrong.” Flynn balled his hands into fists. If he weren’t dead already, he would gladly teach the man a lesson or two about how to treat women.

“Will thinks he married me to hide his true nature from the world and was angry to see he could not bring himself to bed a woman, even to save his reputation.”

Flynn nodded. Alistair’s new conquest was the right person to detect such inclinations in another man. It would not have taken him long to understand the explanation behind the bastard’s inability to get hard and bed his wife. The more he heard about this friend of hers, the more he liked him.

“I never met the man, but I’m sure Will is right. He made you pay for his failure to bring his plan to fruition. Your husband must have favored men. It is the only way he could have failed to get aroused with you in his arms.”

He saw her glance at his groin and almost groaned when her cheeks turned red. She would have seen his manhood straining against his hose. Not that it was hard to miss. The idea of having her in his arms had sent him hard, as usual. “You…”

“Yes. So stop looking at me like this, it’s not helping. And next time anyone has the temerity to praise the man to your face, tell them the truth. He doesn’t deserve to go down in history as the embodiment of all women might want, just because he had a pretty face.”

Heather gave the tentative smile he loved. That was better. He hated to see her so wretched. “I’m not sure how many people would believe my version of events,” she mumbled.

“If you want, I could have Alistair start rumors in the right places. In less than a month your precious husband’s failings would be the talk of the county.”

She made a face. “I’m not sure I would enjoy the probing questions that would follow any more than I enjoy being told he was a fine man.”

“Mm, no… Best leave it, then. Just keep assaulting women in bed. That should ensure they keep a wide berth when they see you. That way you will be safe.”

This time she giggled outright. “Yes. That sounds like a better idea.”

****

As usual, Will ensured the couples he had formed shared a trencher during the meal, but this time he requested the women feed the men delicate bite-sized pieces of marzipan once the savory dishes had been taken away.

Heather thought she would swoon at the intimacy of the gesture. With every day that passed they seemed to take another step toward decadence. What would Will dream up next, she wondered?

“I want more,” Flynn murmured for her ears only.

“More?” Her heart, which had almost stopped when his tongue had brushed against the tip of her fingers, started to beat frantically.

“You gave me two of the smallest pieces of marzipan I’ve ever seen. I’m starving and your friend made it clear that all the delicacies that passed our lips for the remainder of the night had to be placed there by our sweetheart’s fair hand. You do not want me to die of hunger, do you?”

“Of course not.” She blushed and selected another marzipan figurine. It was only then she noticed it was shaped like a goose. Up until then she had been too focused on Flynn’s mouth to look at the sweets. “Oh, Will!” she giggled. The man was incorrigible.

“I take it that the beasts do not frighten you when they are in almond paste form?” Flynn’s eyes gleamed.

“No.” She lifted the animal to his lips, but he made no move to take it. “I thought you were hungry?”

“Oh. I am.”

He took the sweet, chewed then leaned in, causing shivers to course down her spine. “I would take a walk in the gardens with you.” His breath smelled of almonds. She groaned and slipped a goose between her lips.

“It’s been snowing all evening,” she said once she had swallowed. “The ground will be covered in snow.”

“It will.” He gave her a smile that was mischief personified. “Are you afraid? I promise not to throw any snowballs at you.”

“That is not what I’m afraid of.”

“What are you afraid of, then?”

Dare she say it? For courage she popped another goose into her mouth. “That I will want to kiss you again when we’re alone.”

Flynn gave a dark, throaty laugh. “If ever I needed an incentive to throw you over my shoulder and march you out of here, this is it. Believe me, you kissing me is not exactly a scary prospect.”

“No, but…”

Heather looked at Flynn and decided to take the plunge. Her time at Redding Castle was running out, and she had to know if she was wasting her time. Was he just playing with her? Was he just making the most of a willing conquest while he could, before he married a woman he didn’t love? In normal circumstances she might have been offended, but these were not normal circumstances. She did not have the luxury of being offended. She just wanted to know.

“I heard you were betrothed.”

Please say you’re not, please say I have not been fooling myself all this time, please say there is something between us, please say that you’re free to act on it and save me from Wicked Wexford…

His face became grave, and her heart fell. The marzipan goose, so sweet a moment ago, suddenly tasted of ash. So it was true. He was set to marry someone else. And he did not even think of denying it.

“Actually, this was what I wanted to talk to you about, and I’d rather we were alone.”

Heather’s legs suddenly felt numb, her chest hollow.

“Let us go,” she breathed.