An Aria Writ In Blood (The Underwood Mysteries Book 4) by Suzanne Downes Page B

me?”
    Cara glanced at her betrothed.  She had never seen him display such anger.  She returned her gaze back to her brother, tears standing in her eyes, “I side with no one but Gil.  If he says you may not come to our wedding, then you may not come.  The choice is yours, Trent.”
    He cast her a look of utter contempt and one of loathing towards Gil, then stormed from the room.
    She heard Gil draw in a huge breath and she knew that he had found the whole scene horribly unpleasant.  She waited for him to make some movement towards her, but as the minutes ticked away and he did nothing, she imagined he must be as appalled with her as he was with her brother.  This was more than she could bear.  Earning Gil’s respect had been almost as important to her as earning his love.  The tears she had so gallantly withheld from her brother now began to pour down her cheeks, “I am so very sorry, Gil,” she sobbed, “I do not know what to say to you.  How can you ever forgive me?”  She blundered past him, trying to escape as much from the room and his silent, condemning presence, as from her own feelings of utter misery and humiliation.
    He caught her in his arms as she passed him, “It is I who should apologise, my love.  I should not have taken it upon myself to exile your brother without first consulting you.”
    Surprised she looked up at him, “I … I thought you were angry with me.”
    He bestowed that slow smile she loved so well, “I don’t think I have ever been angry with you, Cara Mia, but you have every right to be angry with me.”
    She shook her head in confusion and attempted to wipe the tears from her cheeks with trembling fingers.  He produced a handkerchief and gently performed the task for her before leading her to a sofa, “I’m glad we found ourselves alone, my dear.  I would have words with you.”
    She took the seat and attempted to compose herself, “About Trentham?” she asked, self-consciously blowing her nose.  She would have preferred not to do something quite so basic and human in his presence, but unfortunately the bitter tears had made it a necessity.
    “No, not about Trentham,” he answered shortly, “I am beginning to find that boy’s antics tedious, to say the very least.”
    “Then what?”
    “Us – our marriage, I mean.  If one thing has become painfully evident through all these passionate demonstrations, it is the issue of disparity between our ages.  I am over forty and you are not yet thirty.  I have been married before – albeit briefly – and bring a fourteen year old son with me.  You have been used to a life of leisure; I have had to work for my bread.  I cannot help but question the wisdom of our embarking on a life together…”
    Cara looked at him in silence for a moment that seemed to last an eternity, then she asked starkly, “Gil, do you love me?”
    He was thrown into confusion, red staining his cheeks; “I beg your pardon?”
    “The question is simple enough.  Do you love me?  Do you want to wake in the morning and see my face on the pillow beside you?  Do you want your children to be my children?  You chastised Trent just now for speaking coarsely in my company, but I will risk your wrath by saying something similar, because I have to know how you feel about me.  Do you want to take me to your bed every night?  I ask because these are the things that matter to me – neither our ages, nor our differing backgrounds.  If you answer no to any of these questions, then, though it breaks my heart, I will not marry you.”
    He took her hand and kissed it, “If only I could see this matter in such simple terms, my dear.”
    “Then you do not love me?”  Her lower lip trembled and he lifted a gentle forefinger and brushed against it, “I love you.  I want you.  And I need you, more than you will ever know.  But I am years older than you are.”
    With a cry of pure joy she threw her arms about him, “Oh, who cares for that?  You