Page 26 of Wed By Proxy

“Is it your ankle?” he asked in gruff bewilderment. “Did you fall in the snow?”

She made no reply, only buried her face in his chest and huffed there a minute as Guy made his way into the upstairs sitting room, making straight for the wooden bench next to the fire. When he moved to set her down, she made a dissenting sound, so instead he lowered himself gingerly onto the cushions, with her on his lap. He was too worried about any possible harm she’d done to herself to think about Temur gawking at him from the doorway. Reaching to unfasten her cloak, he carefully untangled it from her, running his hands up and over her arms, checking for any possible breaks or injuries. She sat quietly, letting him ease off her boots and dispose of her cloak over the back of the chair, sniffling and swiping at her eyes.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

She took a series of deep breaths, calming herself. “We went for a walk,” she said in a wobbly voice.

“Yes?” He fought to keep his tone calm.

“And then … And then…” Her face crumpled again, and she sobbed aloud.

“Then what?” Guy barked in alarm. He heard Temur tut in disapproval behind him, but forced himself not to react.

“Then I saw D-Destrian,” she said brokenly, and peered up at him through tear-filled eyes.

“Who?” Guy asked sharply.

“My horse,” she whispered tremulously. “You brought me my horse!” The look of devout gratitude she sent him made his mind go blank. “I’m so h-happy!” she wailed and collapsed again onto his chest. He froze to the spot, feeling a damp spot grow across his tunic. Casting an agonized look of confusion over the top of her head, he saw the door softly closing. Temur had made himself scarce. Guy had no idea where the boy Robin had gone. What was he supposed to do? The tears showed no sign of abating. If this was how she behaved when she was happy, what the hells did she do when she was sad?

Gingerly he placed a hand on her middle back and patted her gently. “There, there now,” he ventured. She drew in a shuddering breath. “All will be well,” he said, wishing he didn’t sound so uncertain himself. She exhaled noisily, and peeped up at him through watery, red-rimmed eyes. “Feeling better?” he ventured.

She hiccupped. “Sorry,” she said softly. “I just feel so relieved that we’re reunited.” She smiled at him and Guy stared. She was talking about the horse, he reminded himself savagely, not him. There was absolutely no reason for him to have this strange breathless feeling in his chest. But she said you had made her happy, a stunned voice in his head pointed out. No one had ever said such a thing to him before, much less thought it! Even at this very moment, she sat in his lap as naturally as if she belonged there. Guy waited, dry-mouthed for her to spring from him in horror, realizing her position, but instead if anything, she leaned further into him. “I’m tired and cold,” she confided shyly. “I think we got a bit lost on the way back.”

Instead of scolding her roundly for her reckless behavior, Guy found himself rubbing her upper arms. “You stayed out too long,” he said, but even to his own ears, his rebuke lacked the sternness it should have. What is happening? She nodded and crowded further into him, with a soft whimper that scrambled his brain. Guy felt his throat go dry. Suddenly, he felt very aware of the fact he had a scrap of soft femininity pressing against him in all sorts of dangerous places. His mouth was dry.

“I should put some more logs on the fire,” he said huskily, putting her bodily from him before he embarrassed them both. For a moment, he thought she looked disappointed, but that couldn’t be right. He rose up off the chair and approaching the fireplace, threw on four or five logs and turned back to find her watching him. There was not a shadow of calculation in those hazel eyes, he thought. If he didn’t know any better, he could almost have imagined they were roaming over him with maidenly admiration. Her eyelashes trembled and she glanced away. Her face was already so red from crying that he could not tell if she blushed or not.

He cleared his throat. “You should eat something. You’re likely hungry. Then perhaps a bath and early to bed.”

“Will you stay?” she asked eagerly. Then she must have caught something in his expression, for she added hurriedly. “For a meal, I mean.”

He knew he was in trouble, when he felt the wild disappointment that flooded him at her words. He only hoped his expression did not reflect it. “Of course,” he said woodenly, with a shrug. “If you wish it.”

“Oh, I do!” Her face was shining and earnest now. It made him think of that other occasion. When she had said she wanted his baby above all things.

Swallowing, Guy turned away. He would put that from his mind. He had to. “I’ll tell them we’re staying,” he said gruffly and left the room.

The meal was an awkward affair. Guy sat at the head of the table and Mathide next to Robin on his right. Temur sat on his left. Prudence, served a tasty meal of game pie and winter vegetables. Robin and Temur set about consuming their food with a single-minded purpose that did not allow for conversation. Feeling the weight of Mathilde’s expectant gaze on him, Guy cudgeled his brain for some safe topic of discussion. The only thing he could think of was horses.

“You’ll still need to keep that mare from my stables,” he said, clearing his throat. “That horse of yours — I mean, Destrian,” he amended coloring slightly and avoiding Temur’s eye. “He isn’t really fit for anything but retirement.”

“Oh, but I shall still ride him for short journeys,” Mathide replied quickly. “He’s a very excellent horse and most keen to be in my keeping.”

Guy regarded her doubtfully. She had far too good a seat to have a broken down dray-horse for a mount. Still, he didn’t want to upset her further with brutal truths right now. “Anything further than a short ride, you must take the bay.” His tone was mild, but brooked no argument.

“I would be very pleased to keep the bay mare,” Mathilde agreed. “She’s a lovely horse. It’s only…” Her expression grew wistful. “One does grow so very fond of one’s own horse. And Destrian has such a beautiful nature.”

“I’m sure,” Guy said briskly, disliking the way Temur was now taking interest in their conversation.

“Yes, and after all he chose me,” Mathilde carried on.

“He chose you?” Guy repeated, without much interest. Temur was definitely hanging on their words now, curse him!

“Yes. There I was, waiting for Robin outside the alehouse, when Destrian just placed his head here,” she patted her shoulder. “He had such a gentle expression, and I knew at once that we were kindred spirits. He had a fresh scar down the side of his dear face, but he let me stroke him and made that sort of whickering noise that horses make. You know the one?” Guy nodded. “We were getting along quite famously when that brute came shambling out and set about him with his stick.” Her face darkened. “That was when he made that comment about my buying the horse, if I did not like to see the way he treated him. Naturally, I reached into my purse at once. You will scarcely credit what that villain did next,” she said indignantly.

“Pocketed the coin and tried to take the horse as well?”

“Yes!” agreed Mathilde, her eye kindling at the memory. “Naturally I protested.”