Page 123 of Conqueror's Kiss
“Aye. I just couldnae get past my own fears and pride.”
“Weel, I had much the same trouble. I was waiting for ye to respect me.”
Raising up on her elbows, Jennet stared at him with a mixture of shock and confusion. “Ye were what?”
“Waiting for ye to respect me. I just couldnae bare my soul to a woman who didnae respect me. As ye can see, I couldnae set ye aside either. I kept thinking I could change the way ye felt.”
“Hacon, when did I ever make ye think I didnae respect you?”
“Often. Ye made your feelings about knights and soldiers verra clear. I was sure ye accepted me without the armor. Howbeit, the moment I donned it and took up my sword to do what Imustdo, ye would turn from me. Then ye saw me only as blood hungry.”
Wincing at her thoughtlessness, she bent forward and kissed him.
“What was that for?” he asked, lightly wrapping his arms around her.
“To try and ease the sting of those careless words. I gave no thought to how they might hurt you. I was afraid for you and the men. And, I fear, Istilldinnae believe the campaign in Ireland was right.”
“Nay, it wasnae. We barely have a grip on our own lands, yet lost good men trying to take someone else’s.” He sighed as he idly smoothed his hands over her back. “I had no stomach for it but . . .” He shrugged.
“Aye—but. The king beckons and yemustanswer. Ye must keep proving your loyalty. That was certainly shown when Balreaves so easily brought you before the king in chains with his lies. ’Twas your history of loyalty that eventually set you free.”
“’Twas you who freed me by speaking so weel on my behalf.”
“I had the weight of truth behind my words. Even Sir Niall could only agree. And I believe the king was troubled by the charges, held a seed of doubt about them in his mind. I could have talked until my tongue fell out at the king’s feet, but it would have done no good if ye were not the mon ye are. That was why ye were set free and your name was cleared.”
“When I heard you speak for me, heard the belief ye had in all ye said, I kenned I had won the respect I so badly needed. It was then I decided we would find time to be alone to speak our hearts, that this silence we kept between us must end.”
“And that is why ye have avoided me these last two months?”
“Aye, I wanted us to have a place to go where we could be alone for a few days with no disruptions. We couldnae have had that at my parents’ home. I wanted us to begin anew.” He kissed her. “Did ye think I had lost interest in ye?”
“Aye.”
“Weel, I am sorry for that. I ne’er meant to hurt ye. I just feared that if we began to be lovers again, without speaking on this first, we would simply fall back into our old ways.”
“Aye, that could weel have happened. And I am sorry I gave ye such hurt with my confusion, with my inability to understand what I felt or even, at times, what I believed. But, Hacon, I always had respect for you. In truth, that was what caused some of my confusion. For a long time my heart and all I could see, all I kenned about you, warred with what I believed about war and the soldiers who fought in it.”
He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I ken it. At times, I sensed the inner battle ye fought, but ’twas a battle ye had to fight for yourself. I couldnae give you the answers ye sought. Ye had to find them by yourself, within yourself.” He smiled faintly. “Although ’twas verra hard at times to stand back and not defend myself.”
“My confusion began that first night when ye didnae just take me. Aye, and when ye went and got those foolish goats so wee Murdoc could have milk.” She smiled. “Ye were a verra confusing mon.”
“When did the confusion end?”
“Ere we were wed. I would ne’er have said those things, ne’er have called you blood hungry, if I had thought ye would take them to heart. I was so afraid for you and so verra angry at the Bruce for asking you to risk your life for him again. That shameless kiss”—she ignored his wide grin—“and the gift of my rosary were my poor attempts to take back my angry words.
“Dinnae ever take them to heart again,” she continued. “I should so like to vow I would ne’er say such things again, but I cannae. Just remember, I dinnae like war and fighting, but I ken ye have no choice. I also ken that ye are all a knight should be. Ye do what ye must but with mercy, ne’er burning the poor cottages or killing those who arenae trying to kill you. I wish it would all stop, but we havenae the power to end it so . . .” She sighed. “Just understand, and ne’er forget, I feel only pride that my husband truly lives by the codes of chivalry, that when ye answer your liege’s call to arms, ye go to fight only those who are ready and able to fight you.”
His hands unsteady, emotion choking him, Hacon cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. As he ended the kiss and studied the small face he so loved, he whispered, “Those words mean nearly as much to me as those three little ones ye took so long to say.”
“Ye mean—I love you.”
“Aye.” He hugged her, rubbing his cheek against her soft hair. “Ah, I do love you. Ye are the richest plunder I ever took. Ye have given me so much—yourself, our son. I can ne’er hope to repay it.”
“Ye already have—by loving me, by being the mon ye are.” She lifted her head, gave him a brief kiss, and slowly smiled. “I have ne’er been conquered by a finer knight.”
“Ye have been conquered, have ye?” He neatly moved her so that she was sprawled on top of him.
“Aye, completely—heart and mind and soul.”
“Then your conqueror has a command for you.”
“And he expects complete obedience, does he?”
“Aye—in this. He commands you to love him, always, as he will love you,” he ordered in a soft voice made faintly husky by the depth of his emotion.
“Aye—always.” She touched her lips to his. “’Tis the sweetest command any woman has ever been given—and the easiest to obey.”
