being seated next to her?
The latter seemed more likely.
He’d spoken not a word to her after her near mishap with Rose in the yard this morn, and he’d done his best to avoid her all the rest of the day. At supper he’d held himself aloof, taking no part in the conversations. Not that she expected Darian to be interested in tapestries and sinks, but she sensed they could have been talking of battles and he wouldn’t have voiced an opinion.
Why was he so distant today when he’d been so gallant and kind last eve? Certes, if their kiss last eve was any indication, his defenses against their attraction weren’t as high or as strong as he wished. If by his silence he strove to bolster his fortifications, then he’d built them too high. ’Struth, he’d pulled inward so far he’d even ignored Rose!
The hound shouldn’t be made to suffer because Darian happened to be in a bad mood.
Maura had the right of it. That wolfhound should belong to Darian. Only look at how swiftly the hound obeyed him this morn. The command in his voice had halted Emma, too, as well as everyone around him. Not all men possessed a voice of command. Darian should be giving orders, not merely following them.
Ferocious on the hunt or in battle, a wolfhound could also be the most loving and devoted of companions. The poor thing had sat behind Darian all through supper, awaiting a tidbit or kind word and received neither.
Why Darian shunned the hound’s freely given, affectionate loyalty was beyond her.
Emma shoved thoughts of Darian and the wolfhound aside as she picked up Gwendolyn’s letter, which she’d already read once. The second reading proved as exciting and disturbing as the first.
She still wanted to dance for joy over Gwendolyn’s happiness in her marriage and at being with child, and nearly wept over her sister’s concern about Nicole. Apparently Gwendolyn had noticed the oddity in Nicole’s letters, too. Nicole was changing and Gwendolyn didn’t like the change, either.
The resignation in the girl’s letters broke Emma’s heart. She had to get to Nicole and find out how a strong-headed, outspoken girl of ten could turn submissive in four short months.
Bledloe Abbey was three hard days of riding away. She was no longer subject to the king’s will and she considered herself free to travel. Except Darian was now her husband, so she supposed she needed his permission. She also lacked the funds or means to get to the abbey.
Emma rolled up Gwen’s letter and rose from the edge of the bed. The large room gave her space to pace.
Would the earl give her aid? Perhaps, but then she would be even deeper in his debt, and would rather not be. Gar might be persuaded to provide her with a horse, or cart and driver, perhaps even guards. But that would put her in Gar’s debt, and she liked that even less.
Could she convince Darian to take her? Would that not be the most sensible solution? But since he preferred to avoid her, would he refuse her? And how bound did he feel to obey William’s order to remain at Hadone?
In frustration she plopped back down on the bed. Sweet mercy, at times like these she wished she could stare into a bowl of water or a garden pond and see what she wished to see. Then she would know if Nicole simply matured at a pace her sisters didn’t credit as possible, or if sadness or fear battered at the girl too hard.
She might be able to tell Gwendolyn to plan for a son or daughter. She might know if Darian would be cleared of the murder charge.
But mostly, she longed to peer into the future and see what became of her and Darian. She had to believe they would become lovers, but then what? How long would he remain her husband before he obtained an annulment—if he could obtain one? And if the Church approved the annulment, what would become of her then?
Emma shook her head at her foolishness. To allow the visions meant accepting the good with the bad, and the bad could be horrific. If she allowed the
The latter seemed more likely.
He’d spoken not a word to her after her near mishap with Rose in the yard this morn, and he’d done his best to avoid her all the rest of the day. At supper he’d held himself aloof, taking no part in the conversations. Not that she expected Darian to be interested in tapestries and sinks, but she sensed they could have been talking of battles and he wouldn’t have voiced an opinion.
Why was he so distant today when he’d been so gallant and kind last eve? Certes, if their kiss last eve was any indication, his defenses against their attraction weren’t as high or as strong as he wished. If by his silence he strove to bolster his fortifications, then he’d built them too high. ’Struth, he’d pulled inward so far he’d even ignored Rose!
The hound shouldn’t be made to suffer because Darian happened to be in a bad mood.
Maura had the right of it. That wolfhound should belong to Darian. Only look at how swiftly the hound obeyed him this morn. The command in his voice had halted Emma, too, as well as everyone around him. Not all men possessed a voice of command. Darian should be giving orders, not merely following them.
Ferocious on the hunt or in battle, a wolfhound could also be the most loving and devoted of companions. The poor thing had sat behind Darian all through supper, awaiting a tidbit or kind word and received neither.
Why Darian shunned the hound’s freely given, affectionate loyalty was beyond her.
Emma shoved thoughts of Darian and the wolfhound aside as she picked up Gwendolyn’s letter, which she’d already read once. The second reading proved as exciting and disturbing as the first.
She still wanted to dance for joy over Gwendolyn’s happiness in her marriage and at being with child, and nearly wept over her sister’s concern about Nicole. Apparently Gwendolyn had noticed the oddity in Nicole’s letters, too. Nicole was changing and Gwendolyn didn’t like the change, either.
The resignation in the girl’s letters broke Emma’s heart. She had to get to Nicole and find out how a strong-headed, outspoken girl of ten could turn submissive in four short months.
Bledloe Abbey was three hard days of riding away. She was no longer subject to the king’s will and she considered herself free to travel. Except Darian was now her husband, so she supposed she needed his permission. She also lacked the funds or means to get to the abbey.
Emma rolled up Gwen’s letter and rose from the edge of the bed. The large room gave her space to pace.
Would the earl give her aid? Perhaps, but then she would be even deeper in his debt, and would rather not be. Gar might be persuaded to provide her with a horse, or cart and driver, perhaps even guards. But that would put her in Gar’s debt, and she liked that even less.
Could she convince Darian to take her? Would that not be the most sensible solution? But since he preferred to avoid her, would he refuse her? And how bound did he feel to obey William’s order to remain at Hadone?
In frustration she plopped back down on the bed. Sweet mercy, at times like these she wished she could stare into a bowl of water or a garden pond and see what she wished to see. Then she would know if Nicole simply matured at a pace her sisters didn’t credit as possible, or if sadness or fear battered at the girl too hard.
She might be able to tell Gwendolyn to plan for a son or daughter. She might know if Darian would be cleared of the murder charge.
But mostly, she longed to peer into the future and see what became of her and Darian. She had to believe they would become lovers, but then what? How long would he remain her husband before he obtained an annulment—if he could obtain one? And if the Church approved the annulment, what would become of her then?
Emma shook her head at her foolishness. To allow the visions meant accepting the good with the bad, and the bad could be horrific. If she allowed the
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