Page 26 of His Dark Heart
“My parents did. My mother birthed me and lived separately from my father for most of the rest of their marriage.”
“I cannot say that I am capable of living the same way. I want to learn about thy lands and thy people. Jane will help me with the basics, but ye must aid me as well. I want to learn governance and I want to help. I refuse to be useless.”
“You are asking to rule?” Shock weighed heavy in his words.
“Nay. I am asking to assist. If I am to be thy princess, then can we agree that I should not have that title in name only?”
He tilted his head and rested his chin on his hand as he studied her. “What has made you so suddenly agreeable?”
Shrugging, Elizabeth took the seat across from his. “Lady Jane said some interesting things this afternoon.”
“Jane always has an interesting comment even when she should not say so. Would you care to tell me what she spoke of?”
“Not particularly, but I shall say she gave me many things on which to ponder.” She leaned forward. “I want to call a truce between us, my lord.”
“Do you?”
“I do. Despite how it appears, I am not made to be angry every moment of the day, and ye cannot appreciate my foul mood, as ye well demonstrated upon entry into my rooms. We are to be married, and nothing can change that now.”
“Indeed.”
“Are we agreed? Is there a truce?”
He nodded, straightening up and lifting a finger. “On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“You do not leap towards a conclusion without sufficient facts to support your claims. Do not assume the worst of me. Perhaps I am not a good man, but at the very least, I am fair.”
Her eyebrow climbed up and she bit her lip, trying not to argue about his definition of “fair.” She had seen snakes fairer to the rats they devoured, but that was beside the point. Now she was making an effort and, apparently, he planned to follow suit and do the same.
“I shall not make assumptions,” she promised, offering her hand.
They shook, and he stood. “Forgive me, Elizabeth. I must return to that farmer. He believes he has a problem with foxes in his henhouse.”
“Will I see ye at dinner?”
“Do you want to see me at dinner?”
“I would look rather pathetic eating alone, would I not?”
“Most likely.”
“Then, yes, pray, eat dinner with me.”
He smirked. “I shall be home then.”
“My lord?”
He sighed then paused, clearly trying to maintain his limited patience. “Yes?”
“Does the farmer have a dog?”
“No. His wife, who died last year, did not care for the animal.”
“Then he should get a large dog. That would keep the foxes at bay.”
“Brilliant idea, Elizabeth!” He kissed her on the cheek and rushed for the door. “I shall credit you to Mr. Bentley.”
