Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“ D o you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Esyllt stole a glance to the man at her side, so tall and determined, and almost laughed. Though in reality she’d been asked a question, not issued an order, she knew she did not have any choice. Unflinching green eyes met hers, confirming it. She was to say yes, without further delay. Behind Lord Sheridan, Gruffydd bared his teeth in menace, urging her on.

With the two men in league against her, she would never be allowed to get away with a refusal now.

“I do,” she whispered.

The Englishman had already given his agreement, and so the deed was done. Only one thing remained to make this union indissoluble. Consummation. Her heart skipped a beat. No one knew that it had already taken place late last night, after a fashion. They were married, as surely as if they had both wanted it.

Her new husband held out his hand to her. Knowing it was futile to resist, Esyllt took it and let him walk her out of the chapel in a dream-like state. In the bailey, people were offering their congratulations, but she barely heard a word. All she could think was how different this wedding was to her first one. She had been a shy seventeen-year-old virgin then, surrounded by friends who had her happiness at heart. The people present here today were only interested in what this union meant for them.

Well, she would not be so easily cowed. To prove it to herself, if no one else, she disentangled her hand from the crook of her husband’s arm. She could stand by herself, thank you very much, she didn’t need the help of someone only intent on keeping her in line.

“My dear Lady Sheridan. May I offer my most heartfelt congratulations on this happy occasion?”

Esyllt found herself face to face with the blond man who had posed as her husband the previous evening. The satisfied gleam in his eye was enough to make her want to scream. How dare he provoke her thus, or behave as if he had not deceived her in the most shameless manner? He made to take her hand, but she snatched it away in anger.

“You will forgive me for not greeting you, my lord, as I do not know who you are,” she said, straightening her spine.

The infuriating man exchanged a glance with her husband, as if her defiance had been fully expected and amused him.

“This is my brother, Matthew,” Connor said, taking the hand she had refused the other man as he introduced him.

“Brother!” The two men looked nothing like one another. If they had, she might have realized something was amiss, at least doubted that he could be his squire. But the two men facing her were as different as night was from day. How could she have suspected foul play?

“Foster brother, actually. I will explain it all in due time.”

“Yes.” There would be a lot of explaining to do, she thought wryly. They did not know anything about each other, yet the man by her side was now her husband, they would have to spend the rest of their lives together.

Esyllt bristled at the thought.

Here she was, married for the second time. Just like the first time, she hadn’t had any say in the decision. For all that, her first union had been more satisfactory than she had hoped, and made a mother out of her. But there could be no comparison between the two men who would have shared her life. Gwyn had been some thirty years older than her, easy-going, a father figure more than anything else, a companion, and Welsh, like her. Lord Sheridan, was a man in his prime, a fit warrior. There was nothing easy-going about him. He was the image of ruthless determination—and of course, he was English.

How was she going to survive marriage to a man like him? He was impossibly daunting, and what was even worse, impossibly alluring, which meant she could not dismiss him out of hand. If she had been less drawn to him, she might have found it easier to ignore him.

But unfortunately, she could not ignore him. It was too late for that.

Because she had not known who he was upon first acquaintance, she had not thought to guard herself against any feelings he stirred in her. It had seemed harmless to admire his perfect features and strong body when she’d thought him unimportant, so she had not tried to stop herself. As a result, she had been struck much harder than was wise. Despite all that had happened since then, it was impossible to forget her first impression of him, that of a man she admired for his beauty and self-possession.

And because she had thought his brother Matthew was the man she was to wed, she had taken an immediate, strong aversion to him instead. This was the man she was being sold to, the Englishman who repulsed her and would soon call himself her master—or so she had thought.

But the quiet squire in the corner, watching her with piercing green eyes... She would never forget the jolt she’d felt when their eyes had met for the first time.

Esyllt had heard of people being struck by thunder and surviving the shock. It seemed to her that the instant the thorough devastation she had felt blaze through her soul when she had seen Connor was much akin to what these people described. As she’d had no reason to steel herself against any feelings she might have for him, she’d been hurtled headlong into the abyss. She had erected her defences against Lord Sheridan, an English stranger, all her strength had been focused on him, leaving her weak and vulnerable for anyone else.

Connor had crept under her skin while her attention had been engaged somewhere else and now she wasn’t sure how to get him out. The decoy had worked and had damaged her soul more than either man could have predicted.

Yes, they could well be satisfied with themselves.

“Shall we go and eat?”

She could only nod.

All during the banquet she fought to keep her composure. What would happen now? Would he demand to bed her and enjoy proving to her just how much of a wanton she was? If he did, she would be unable to refuse. They were husband and wife, so she did owe him access to her bed. That was bad enough. But what was worse was the fear that, once he started touching her, her body would melt for him, regardless of what her mind was telling her.

If last night was anything to go by, she was right to be fearful.

As the sweetmeats were served, wild panic engulfed Esyllt. Everything was spiraling out of control but she could not allow her ill-advised desire for this man to wreak havoc through her. The reasons why she had opposed the match were still valid, even if Lord Sheridan had since proved to be a sinfully handsome man and fiery lover. In fact, it only made him more dangerous, because he’d also been exposed as a manipulator without scruples, ready to use the feelings he provoked inside her to gain the upper hand.

She needed some time and distance from him to regain control and a clear head. But how could she get it? She could not demand he leave Castell Esgyrn when he’d just arrived. He would refuse, if only to spite her. She could not pretend to be a wanton, and hope to disgust him that way. She had tried that, but doing so had only succeeded in giving him more ammunition against her. What other choices were there? Could she make his life hell so that he regretted his decision to marry her?

It was worth a try, and might even make her feel better.

“You think you’ve won, my lord,” she said, leaning in toward him. “But you might think differently when you get to know me better and see what I’m capable of.”

“Is that so?” His smile made it clear he was not impressed in the least. “Worry not, wife, I’m not afeared.”

No, indeed why should he worry? Next to him, she was insignificant, in every sense of the word. Not only was she Welsh, but she was a woman. He could have sent her sprawling to the floor with a flick of the wrist. Standing next to him in church earlier, she’d gotten the full measure of his power. He was the most forbidding man she had ever met, and now that they were married, he effectively owned her. He could behave in any way he wanted with her. Last night she’d been unforgivably devious and wanton with him. If he wanted to make her pay for the trick she’d played on him, no one would come to her aid. Not Gruffydd, who had arranged this union for his benefit, not anyone from the English retinue, who would always be on their master’s side, not a member of her family, who had not even been invited.

She could only rely on her own wits to protect herself and her daughter. This man could even now be plotting to dispose of her, just like Gruffydd was plotting to dispose of him.

An idea popped into her head. He’d said he was not afeared. But what if she gave him reason to be, make him keep his distance that way?

Her chest tightened at the prospect of wielding such a weapon. It could prove a dangerous one, but she would use it, because there was no other choice.

If she managed to instill some fear in him now, it would be her best protection in the future. He might well leave her alone. After all, last night he’d made it clear he felt nothing but contempt for her, so she had nothing to lose.

“I killed my first husband,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “And I don’t think you would want to be next.”

For a moment the very air around them seemed to still. Then Connor’s eyes narrowed.

“Did you just say you killed your first husband?”

“Yes,” she forced herself to answer, addressing her silent apologies to Gwyn. Heavens, what was she reduced to, using his death thus? But what other choice did she have? “You never wondered why I was a widow at such a young age?”

Connor was not so easily impressed, as she could have guessed. “No. Six-and-twenty is not such a young age to be widowed, considering your husband was well into his fifties at the time of your wedding.”

“He was forty-seven.”

Esyllt bit her lip. The threat had utterly failed to rankle him. Perhaps it was for the best, for in truth she already regretted having claimed to being a murderess.

“So. You disposed of your first husband. What shall I do with this information?” Connor asked, crossing his arms over his well-muscled chest. It was odd to have this conversation in the middle of the great hall, surrounded by dozens of people, amongst which were English people who could understand what they were saying.

“What do you mean?”

“Am I supposed to flee in fright, and go back to England? Try and repudiate you even though it could be argued that the marriage has already been consummated?” She winced at the idea. Being repudiated now would only make matters worse. “Kill you before you get the chance to kill me? Tell me. What am I supposed to do?

Kill her? This time Esyllt recoiled in horror. Was he seriously considering the option? “No!” she rasped. “Of course I don’t want you to kill me?”

“Then what?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“A charmingly honest answer, wife.” Connor took her hand and kissed it. A few people nodded at the gallant gesture, and she realized that they would look to onlookers as happy newlyweds when they were in fact discussing the best way for her husband to get rid of her. “I could always call an investigation first, find out what really happened to your first husband,” he carried on, sounding as if he were really giving the matter some consideration. Perhaps he was, or perhaps he only wanted to rankle her. She already knew he liked to unsettle her. “I don’t know about here, but where I come from, murder is frowned upon.”

Oh no, what had she done?

What a fool! She felt as if she had seized a sword to hit him in a fit of madness and had been disarmed in the blink of an eye, only to find the sharp blade pointing at her throat.

“Don’t worry. There will be no investigation. I shall make up my mind about you myself, Lady Sheridan. Nothing or no one will be allowed to sway me. What you did years ago matters less than what you do now.”

She blinked at him. Her ridiculous claim had failed to scare him, but at least it would not be used against her—for now. The worst had been averted, but he would bide his time and observe her, waiting for the first misstep.

Had she foolishly handed him the means of her own destruction?

Slowly, she disentangled her fingers from his grasp.

“If you will excuse me, I will retire to my room now. I feel a headache coming on.”

“But of course. I will join you presently.”

Join her. Oh God. Did he mean... Of course, as far as everyone was concerned, the marriage was still to be consummated. Though she was not a virgin and he was not her first husband, it was still expected that they consummate their union.

When she stood up, the people around them exchanged knowing glances, chief amongst them Gruffydd, who was eager to see this match he had worked so hard for made indissoluble. Esyllt felt her cheeks go crimson and hastened away. She was a woman of six-and-twenty, not a shy maid, and married to a man she did not love, so why was she so embarrassed at the idea of what was going to happen?

Once in her room, she sent her maid Seren away as soon as she had unlaced the back of her gown. She needed to be alone with her thoughts, needed to decide what to do next.

As she let her satin gown slide to the floor, her decision was made. She would not let Connor claim his marital rights. After what he’d had the gall to do to her last night, she would not allow him access to her bed, at least not willingly. Surely if she made her feelings clear, he would not force her? He had not allowed his masculine urges to take over even when he had been hard and buried deep inside her, so she was pretty confident he felt no real desire for her.

Oh, if only the reverse were true.

The memory of what had happened sent blood to her cheeks and heat to her core. She had been the one overwhelmed by the moment and desperate for more, while he had managed to remain detached. This marriage was a political move for him, not a way of satisfying his lust. He probably had dozens of women available for bedsport. He didn’t need her.

It wasn’t long before the door opened, and for the second time that day, Lord Sheridan walked into her room.

The circumstances could not have been any different. Tonight he was not a prisoner bound with ropes, in a position of weakness. Tonight she knew who he was, and he was entitled to use her as he wished. They were now husband and wife, not two strangers lusting after each other.

Heart in her throat, she waited for him to speak.

The woman standing in the middle of the room, looking utterly ravishing in her nightgown, was married to him. Possessiveness swelled within Connor, at the same time as his cock lengthened in his hose, a most disconcerting reaction. Considering the trick Esyllt had played on him the night before, he should feel resentment and wariness in front of her. His desire for her as a woman should be dampened at the very least. But it was not. Which was perhaps not so odd. After all, the last time they had been together alone, he had been inside her. It was hard to forget that fact.

Although she had now discarded her wedding finery, she had lost none of her appeal. Her hair was falling over her shoulders in a shower of gold streaked with copper, the color just as fascinating as he had hoped. And even in her nightgown, she was all about elegance. That seemed to be part of her as much as the green of her eyes was. She was also taller than most women, even without her boots, a welcome discovery. As he towered above most men himself, he would have felt uncomfortable in front of a short wife.

He would have to keep her hidden from his king, he decided. Edward had a notorious wandering eye, and he would not let anything or anyone, much less someone as insignificant as Lord Sheridan, get in the way of his desire if he wanted to sample the Welsh lady’s charms, and Connor could not see how he would not.

Esyllt was just too beautiful.

Pushing those unhelpful considerations aside, Connor closed the door behind him. The king was not here right now. There would be time enough to worry about a visit at court later.

“I imagine you have questions,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her.

“Erm... Yes, I do.” He could tell she had not expected him to worry about that. He was pleased to surprise her. His wife would be made to see that they did not have to be enemies all the time—least of in the bedroom. And there were legitimate questions she would be asking herself. It was only fair he answered them, if he wanted her to answer his later.

“Ask them, I will ask mine afterward.”

“I hope you are not here to consummate our marriage,” she said taking a step toward the window when he moved forward.

“That is not a question.”

Nevertheless, it was not hard to see that it was all she had thought about ever since they had exchanged their vows in the chapel. Connor hesitated. What could he say? Without a doubt, he wanted to take her to bed, but he could tell she didn’t want him to touch her. Her fists were bunched tight and there was a wild gleam in her eyes that made him uncomfortable. Was she afraid of him?

“Well, are you here to bed me?” she demanded.

“Whether I want to or not is irrelevant. As your husband, it is expected of me, and well you know it,” he said dryly. He did not care for her tone, or to be made to feel like a brute for doing nothing more than what was required. Though he would not force her tonight if she was so opposed to marital relations, he was still master of the place and he had no intention of letting her forget it. “But it is obvious that you do not wish me to bed you. I believe you would strike me if I tried to touch you and that is not the way I mean to start our marriage. Brute force is not my preferred method when bedding a woman.”

Had he expected her to dissolve in apologies? Perhaps. If so, he was to be disappointed. She merely straightened her spine and glared at him.

“No. Much better to resort to trickery, apparently.”

Oh, so she was not afraid to remind him of his little game. Even better, since they both knew she was the one to blame for it.

“I was not the one who initiated our... coupling.” He said the word with relish and saw thunder and lightning flash in her eyes. Why was he provoking her so, he wondered? Perhaps because she reacted to it so beautifully. No knight worthy of the name had ever tried to break a docile mule, there simply was no need. But a half-wild, spirited horse posed a stimulating challenge for any determined warrior. “You were the one who had me bound with ropes and brought to your room. You sat on me of your own initiative, bared your legs, and then allowed me to get you into bed. At no point did you offer any resistance. You opened your thighs willingly, you let me inside your delicious body, and you melted for me.” Her color increased every time he added something to the list, as did the temperature in his own body. “But I believe I will not be so lucky tonight.”

No .

The word never passed her lips but he saw it in her eyes. His manhood, made hard by the description of all they had done the previous night, twitched in protest. How would she respond to his provocation? By ignoring it, it seemed.

“Why did you ask your brother to take your place?” she asked, lifting her chin.

Ah. He should have guessed this would be her first question.

“It was his idea, not mine,” he explained, helping himself to a goblet to wine. Esyllt’s lips thinned but she refrained from making any comment. Good, she was learning to curb her tongue. “He is highly suspicious of the Welsh and feared some sort of attempt on my life upon my arrival. It seems he was right to be wary of the welcome I’d get, even if I’d wager he never foresaw something like what happened.”

Connor allowed a smile to touch his lips. Matthew had talked of men coming to stab him in the dead of night, not of half-naked women trying to entice him into bed. If he heard what had actually happened, he would laugh in disbelief.

“Finding yourself between a beautiful woman’s legs is not exactly dangerous, neither is it what I would call a predicament,” his brother would tell him with a suggestive wink. “I’m sure you could handle such a situation.”

Indeed he could. Or at least... He would, in normal circumstances. But last night, his enjoyment had been cut short. Never had he left a woman’s bed with his shaft still hard as steel and it was not something he would recommend to anyone. He had meant to punish her but in the end he had suffered just as much from the unsatisfactory ending to the seduction.

“How dare you laugh!” Esyllt cried out when he let out a snort at the memory of how he had been forced to palm himself before going to sleep. His release had left him hollow. “Don’t laugh!”

“Do you mean that laughing is only allowed at certain moments here in Wales?” He emptied the rest of his goblet of wine in one gulp. “Well, I’ll be sure to familiarize myself with your customs. Laughter is apparently considered a high offense if done at the wrong moment, whereas the attitude to murder is surprisingly lax and guests can expect to find themselves abducted in the middle of the night. Who would have thought?”

“Do you think we could have a serious conversation?” his wife asked with a tilt of the head. To Connor’s surprise, he felt his lips quiver anew. Perhaps despite the lack of sensual gratification, his wedding night would not be a total waste. Esyllt’s spirit seemed enough to offer some compensation for the relief her body would not give him.

“By all means, let us have a serious conversation. As I was saying, Matthew volunteered to take my place, leaving me free to explore the castle unimpaired and enquire about the people’s loyalties without raising suspicion.”

“So... That is why you spent the whole evening watching me yesterday? Because you wanted to ascertain where my allegiance lay?”

There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice. She was disappointed. She’d thought he was drawn to her as a woman, and now she was being told he had merely been on the lookout for proof of her treachery. It would be a sobering realization. Except that it was not quite what had motivated his scrutiny of her.

It was true that he had observed the others to ascertain where their loyalty lay, but he had watched her first and foremost because he’d been drawn to her. And he had not missed the looks she’d thrown him when she’d thought him Matthew’s squire. She’d been equally smitten. At the time, he had congratulated himself, thinking that the revelation of his identity would be a pleasant surprise, since he appealed to her as a man. Of course, this had been before she’d had him bound and brought to her like a pagan offering, for her to use as she saw fit.

If she had been so quick to act on her interest for a man, would she not do the same thing the next time someone caught her eye? Was he married to a promiscuous woman, one who would make a fool out of him by taking scores of lovers?

Esyllt had claimed she merely wanted Lord Sheridan to walk in on them and change his mind about marrying her. But what if desire for him had been the main motivation for the scandalous encounter? What if she’d only used this as a ready excuse to justify her behavior? She could not be na?ve enough to ignore how a man would react when a beautiful woman wrapped her legs around him. It had not taken much to convince her to surrender to his need. A man she had met only earlier that evening, whose name she didn’t even know, had been in her bed and between her thighs moments after he had entered the room. She had welcomed him inside her body as readily as if they’d shared this intimacy a thousand times, she had been slick and hot for him, even though he had barely touched her. Such responsiveness was promising to a lover, but worrying to a husband.

Connor clenched his jaw when memories of the previous night assaulted him. Damn it, now was not the time to get hard. He needed to think clearly. This woman would make him lose his mind if he allowed her to.

He focused his mind back to what they were discussing.

“Yes, I thought Matthew’s idea had some merit.”

“Only because you are prejudiced and distrustful of Welsh people!”

“You’re right, it would be silly of me to be suspicious of them. After all, apart from being half-strangled in my sleep, trussed up like a fowl and brought to the lady of the castle so she could have her wicked way with me behind her husband’s back, nothing of note happened to me since I arrived.” He twisted his lips in a mocking smile.

“You were never in any real danger,” she pointed out, refusing to be impressed, and once again he was struck by her courage. His lovely wife would be a formidable opponent.

“No, I know. Being alone with a half-naked woman is not what I would call dangerous. She was more intent on making love to me than piercing my heart.” Fire ignited in his loins when he remembered how tightly her wet softness had wrapped around him. Ah, this had to stop! Why couldn’t he focus on the conversation? “Still, I’m sure Matthew would think his precautions wise if he knew what happened between us this morning.”

If…

That one word was enough to send hope coursing through Esyllt’s veins.

“You mean he doesn’t know?” Could it be that her humiliation had not been spread around the English retinue? She had been bracing herself for lewd comments all day, waiting for the moment when someone would ask her if all Welsh women were as hot-blooded and free with their favors as she was. Now she knew why no one had so much as looked at her with a suggestive smile.

“No one knows what happened in this room except you,” Connor confirmed. “And me.”

She shivered at the threat contained in those two words. He would never let her forget how she had opened her legs to him. As for her, she would forever remember the way he had made her body heat up and her inhibitions melt like wax in front of a flame.

It was all a disaster. Not only had she given him reason to doubt her modesty moments after meeting him, but she was finding out that even before their marriage vows had been taken, her husband had been wary of her and her people’s intentions. She could have been the most welcoming bride imaginable, he would still have observed her from a distance, and waited for her to prove him and his wretched brother right.

Deception, disappointment, distrust... Could there be worse ways to start a marriage?

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about what I did?”

He cocked his head, as if displeased that she thought him capable of such treachery. “Would you rather I had? I can if you prefer. Usually, I share everything with Matthew, so I could?—”

“No!” She was horrified by the prospect. He had just told her that, contrary to what she had feared, she was safe from humiliation. Why on earth would she want it any different? All the same, she did not understand why he had spared her when it was obvious he did not feel too kindly about his new wife.

By now, Esyllt was utterly confused. Connor had come to bed her but was talking to her instead. He was calm, as if it were not embarrassing for a man to be denied his marital rights, he was talking about their “coupling” without getting aroused and smiling as if her wantonness the night before pleased him when she knew it should not.

All in all, it was as if... She hesitated in formulating the thought, then could not avoid the conclusion any longer. He liked her spirit.

It was the most disconcerting thing of all.

“Why didn’t you tell your brother what I did?” she repeated slowly.

He made a gesture with his hand. “You don’t need to know why. But know that what happens between us in bed is nobody’s concern. I will never speak about it to anyone. For that same reason, everyone will think that I bedded you tonight. Please do not say anything to shatter the illusion.”

She would not, for it suited her fine to have everyone believe everything was going smoothly between her and Lord Sheridan. Now that she was married, she would do everything to let Gruffydd think she was going along with his plans.

It was her turn to pour herself a glass of wine. After a second’s hesitation, she filled Connor’s goblet again. The smile he gave made it clear he appreciated her efforts at behaving as a dutiful wife should in at least one respect.

“Why are you so bent on this union, since I am unsuitable in your eyes?”

His eyes gleamed. “A wife as beautiful as you are and as eager to be bedded is not what I would call unsuitable.”

The words made her flush crimson. He thought her beautiful...

Yes. And wanton, she reminded herself sternly, he had just told her as much.

“Are you not afraid I will throw myself at every man who takes my fancy if you think me eager to be bedded ?” she challenged.

“Should I be?” This time Connor’s eyes narrowed. He was not amused anymore.

Esyllt cursed herself. Why did she have to be so reckless all the time? On their first encounter she had given him the impression that she was a wanton, promiscuous woman, earlier tonight she had claimed to have killed her husband, and she had now all but announced her intentions to go and seduce every man who crossed her path. Quite an achievement.

“Of course you should not be worried. I shall be a faithful wife.”

The snort he gave was not encouraging to say the least. “You will allow me to reserve judgment on that.”

There was nothing else to say. She emptied her wine and watched him do the same.

“Now. My turn to ask questions,” he said gruffly. “Why did you want me to change my mind about our union? Why did you not refuse to marry me outright instead of trying to rid yourself of me on our first meeting? It would have been easier. You are no innocent maid, but a widow of considerable means and a mother, you have no father or brother to force your hand, you could have remained mistress of Esgyrn Castle on your own.”

Esyllt lowered her eyes. He was perceptive, much more than she had anticipated.

“It’s not that simple. Rich as I am, I am still a woman. Do not tell me that where you come from women are allowed to dictate their lives and go against the wishes of men without finding themselves accountable for their actions?”

“They’re not,” he agreed with a faint smile.

“And in that unstable climate, a union with an English lord is highly desirable, a good guarantee of safety. I don’t think I should need to tell you as much. All the local lords pressed me to accept your offer. I quickly saw I would not be able to withstand the pressure.”

A mere month after Gwyn’s death, Gruffydd had come knocking at her door, presenting his plans to her. That day, she had discovered her late husband’s friend’s true nature. He was cruel, greedy and dangerous. It had not taken her long to understand she had better go along with his plans and remarry. Had she been alone she might have had the strength to hold on a bit longer, but she had her daughter to worry about. She would not compromise Sian’s safety.

Connor closed his hand around the hilt of his sword. “Well, married we now are, so I suggest we learn to make the best of the bargain.” He arched a brow. “I have another question for you. Where is your daughter? I haven’t seen her around.”

“Sian?” She had, somewhat foolishly, hoped he wouldn’t know about her. But of course he would have asked questions about the woman he intended to marry and been told she had a young daughter. “She is at my mother’s.”

His eyes narrowed. “I see. You didn’t want her to meet the accursed English in general and me in particular. You were afraid for her safety.”

“Yes.” What was the point of lying, if he’d already guessed as much? But to her surprise, when she expected an outburst of rage, he nodded.

“You did well. There was no knowing what kind of man I would be. I would have done the same in your place. But I hope you will soon see that you can bring her back without worrying about the kind of treatment I would inflict on her. It must be hard for you to be away from her.”

“It is.” Esyllt didn’t know what to say. Why was he being so understanding and considerate where her daughter was concerned, when he had been so devious and cruel with her the previous night?

He nodded again, as if all his questions had been satisfactorily answered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I did not get much sleep last night and I’m about to collapse.”

With those words, he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots as if it were the natural thing to do. Her heart skipped a beat.

“You are going to sleep here?” She had not imagined he would stay.

“Yes. I told you, I’m tired, I have no desire to be disturbed or worse, murdered by your men while I sleep,” he said, as he started to remove his tunic. “I do not think they will dare to come and find me in their mistress’ own bed, however.”

“So I am to be your protector?” The idea that the warrior towering over her relied on her for his safety was so ludicrous that she could not help a note of amusement from creeping into her voice.

He smiled as if he had understood exactly why she was amused. “I suppose you are,” he said, stretching as if to emphasize the difference in size between them. She gulped. Tall she may be, but he was so strong he could have lifted her one-handed. “How does it feel?”

“Odd,” she admitted in a croak.

He disposed of his tunic and hose swiftly and then, looking at her all the while, grabbed the back of his undershirt to lift it above his head. Oh, Lord. She had only ever seen her first husband naked on a handful of occasions and now she was wondering if her memory was not failing her. The two men’s bodies did not have much in common.

Gwyn’s chest had been nowhere near as broad, his stomach had been rounded, his legs thin and bowed and his manhood... Well. Evidently, nature was quite discriminating when she handed out masculine attributes. There were the reeds of this world and the mighty oaks.

She swallowed hard.

“I take it that you have seen a naked man before?” Connor asked, a smile floating on his lips. He had not missed her reaction. “You are no maiden and you have borne a child.”

“I have seen a man naked. But not... not you.” She knew she sounded breathless. But how could she not? A magnificent, naked man was standing right in front of her. Had she extended her arm she could have touched him. It was enough to make her light-headed.

“Shall I assume from the way you are blushing that you like what you see?”

Oh, he could. But she was not about to admit it out loud.

“It seems to me you are going to assume as much anyway so do not let me stop you, my lord.”

“A good, dutiful wife’s response,” he answered in a smirk. “I am pleased.”

Without further comment, he went to the bed and slipped under the covers. Esyllt looked around, unsure what to do. Though she was in her own bedchamber, she felt like the intruder. Should she get undressed? Slip under the covers and lie down next to him? To her relief, Connor did not demand she join him. It was as if he had already forgotten her existence. She waited, while the night’s silence wrapped around her.

A moment later, she understood he had fallen asleep.