or death.
Nicholas chuckled at a jest she couldn’t hear, but Celestia sensed his underlying unease. Was it caused by being with crowds of people? People he did not know? Or being with a family he’d been forced to marry into? Truly, he looked the knight gallant in the loose-fitting tunic, leggings, and calf boots. His hair was as dark as a raven’s wing, and his mouth … she licked her lips and turned away.
Being married, sharing that magical kiss as the priest blessed them, had caused a yearning within her breast for something more. It gave her hope to try for more.
She shouldn’t want to feel his mouth pressed to hers. Nor should she wonder what it would be like to share a bed with someone other than her sisters. A man. Her husband. Celestia’s stomach knotted, and she blamed the warmth in her blood on the wine.
He captured her gaze, and slipped his hand beneath her elbow. “Shall we walk?” he asked easily, taking her from the others.
“Aye,” she blushed, grateful that the night was dimming so he would not see her face. He would think her new interest in him foolish, especially after he’d told her that he was not staying. She planned to show him that she had a heart that could be his, if he would but use it gently. They were each honorable people, attracted to one another—surely love could grow from that?
If Gram was right, it might be a start. Heart pounding with anticipation, she leaned into his warmth, wanting him to want her, too.
“We’ll get an annulment.”
She tripped. “What?”
“I have been thinking on your earlier suggestion and I believe it sound. It would be a wise choice for us to abstain from our marital rights until we arrive at Falcon Keep, and then I’ll go on to Peregrine Castle.”
Celestia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Nicholas was going to ruin her with his honor. At least his rejection of her wasn’t public, she thought, although it was hard to be grateful. It was difficult, but she kept walking. “So you think we should try for the annulment after all?”
“I do not trust the baron. Aye, I know everybody says I am his, by nose alone they would know it,” he sighed tiredly. “I have been trying to puzzle out why he would go to such great lengths to see the two of us, specifically in all of England, wed. It is suspect.”
Remembering Nicholas’s dark, hidden pain, Celestia tamped down her own hurt at his easy dismissal of her. “‘Tis obvious that he wants me to heal you, but I would have done that without marriage. My family already swears fealty to him, so he didn’t need a political ally. You have no family.”
He stopped in the night, and she heard him grinding his teeth in frustration. She would not be surprised if he had worn them down to nubs.
“That is all true. So if my,” he stumbled over the word father, “suddenly wants me healthy, I need to know why. He does not seem the sort to do a deed out of kindness.”
She empathized with the ache she heard in his voice, and cautiously reached out to put her hand on his sleeve. If she touched his skin now, his pain would overwhelm her. “Does Petyr not know?”
“He could be a spy for the king, he is so close-lipped. All I know is that he has promised a gift during the bridal toast. Considering what else he’s given on behalf of my … er, the baron, I admit to fearing this ‘gift.'”
She laughed before realizing it, and he smiled in return. Celestia had thought to spark the beginnings of a relationship on her wedding night, but he’d push her away if she got too close. Her husband, she shivered though there was no wind, was not one for emotional ties.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No,” Celestia answered, taken back by his concern. God help her, but she had accidentally married the most noble man in all of England. “Simply a chill.” Now was not the time for one of her hunches. “Let us go make Petyr tell his gift, eh?”
Jaw tight, he nodded. “Aye, and Celestia, we are
Nicholas chuckled at a jest she couldn’t hear, but Celestia sensed his underlying unease. Was it caused by being with crowds of people? People he did not know? Or being with a family he’d been forced to marry into? Truly, he looked the knight gallant in the loose-fitting tunic, leggings, and calf boots. His hair was as dark as a raven’s wing, and his mouth … she licked her lips and turned away.
Being married, sharing that magical kiss as the priest blessed them, had caused a yearning within her breast for something more. It gave her hope to try for more.
She shouldn’t want to feel his mouth pressed to hers. Nor should she wonder what it would be like to share a bed with someone other than her sisters. A man. Her husband. Celestia’s stomach knotted, and she blamed the warmth in her blood on the wine.
He captured her gaze, and slipped his hand beneath her elbow. “Shall we walk?” he asked easily, taking her from the others.
“Aye,” she blushed, grateful that the night was dimming so he would not see her face. He would think her new interest in him foolish, especially after he’d told her that he was not staying. She planned to show him that she had a heart that could be his, if he would but use it gently. They were each honorable people, attracted to one another—surely love could grow from that?
If Gram was right, it might be a start. Heart pounding with anticipation, she leaned into his warmth, wanting him to want her, too.
“We’ll get an annulment.”
She tripped. “What?”
“I have been thinking on your earlier suggestion and I believe it sound. It would be a wise choice for us to abstain from our marital rights until we arrive at Falcon Keep, and then I’ll go on to Peregrine Castle.”
Celestia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Nicholas was going to ruin her with his honor. At least his rejection of her wasn’t public, she thought, although it was hard to be grateful. It was difficult, but she kept walking. “So you think we should try for the annulment after all?”
“I do not trust the baron. Aye, I know everybody says I am his, by nose alone they would know it,” he sighed tiredly. “I have been trying to puzzle out why he would go to such great lengths to see the two of us, specifically in all of England, wed. It is suspect.”
Remembering Nicholas’s dark, hidden pain, Celestia tamped down her own hurt at his easy dismissal of her. “‘Tis obvious that he wants me to heal you, but I would have done that without marriage. My family already swears fealty to him, so he didn’t need a political ally. You have no family.”
He stopped in the night, and she heard him grinding his teeth in frustration. She would not be surprised if he had worn them down to nubs.
“That is all true. So if my,” he stumbled over the word father, “suddenly wants me healthy, I need to know why. He does not seem the sort to do a deed out of kindness.”
She empathized with the ache she heard in his voice, and cautiously reached out to put her hand on his sleeve. If she touched his skin now, his pain would overwhelm her. “Does Petyr not know?”
“He could be a spy for the king, he is so close-lipped. All I know is that he has promised a gift during the bridal toast. Considering what else he’s given on behalf of my … er, the baron, I admit to fearing this ‘gift.'”
She laughed before realizing it, and he smiled in return. Celestia had thought to spark the beginnings of a relationship on her wedding night, but he’d push her away if she got too close. Her husband, she shivered though there was no wind, was not one for emotional ties.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No,” Celestia answered, taken back by his concern. God help her, but she had accidentally married the most noble man in all of England. “Simply a chill.” Now was not the time for one of her hunches. “Let us go make Petyr tell his gift, eh?”
Jaw tight, he nodded. “Aye, and Celestia, we are
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