Page 95 of Wed By Proxy

“Yes?”

“I need to know you can forgive me. In time.”

She frowned. “For what?”

At her words he shook his head. “Being the worst husband in the kingdom,” he forced out.

“You weren’t! Guy, those things I said… I never meant them. I was just striking out because I was so terribly hurt.”

He closed his eyes. “I hate that I did that,” he muttered. ”And ruined everything between us.”

“You didn’t!”

“Things were so perfect between us at the lodge, I didn’t want to put an end to it. But I should have set you in your rightful place weeks ago,” he said ruefully. “I was just so happy. I’d never been so happy in my life. I selfishly wanted to cherish what we’d built together, and instead I … I tore it apart.”

Mathilde sat up straighter on his lap. “You’d never been so happy?” she echoed. “But it was the same for me. Oh Guy!” Her eyes filled with tears.” She dashed them away. “Oh, why did you not say that to me after the banquet, you great oaf!” She swatted him on the shoulder.

He pulled her in closer, hugging her tight. “Would you have forgiven me quicker if I had, sweeting? Nay, I don’t believe you.” He cradled her face gently. “You were so determined to make me suffer like the damned. Like I deserved.”

“Guy…”

“I should have sent for you,” he said fiercely. “Come to court and demanded you, years ago.”

Mathilde caught her breath, feeling a rush of emotion at his words. How could he possibly know the exact right thing to say? It was like he was drawing out a splinter from a wound that had festered for years.

“Guy,” she said again weakly. If only he knew what a terrified little mouse he would have found, if he had!

“I was not ready for you then,” she said truthfully. “It took degrees for me to come into my own. First my friendship with Robin and the boys, and then Fenella.” She paused. “That was when I dared to hope for more from life. When I began to long for you.”

At the catch in her voice, he drew her closer. “You longed for me?”

She nodded. “So badly. And then when I met you… It became even worse. Ten times worse. I never knew I could want something so much.”

He drew a shaky breath. “If I’d had any damn sense, I’d have come for you,” he insisted. “Gods, when I think about those wasted years…” His words trailed off as he gazed down at her. “If I’d only known what was waiting for me there, I would have battered down the doors to get to you.”

Mathilde gurgled with laughter. “Likely the king would have thought the north was rising up against him if you had.”

“I’d wage a war for you,” he said seriously. “I still might have to, if your Queen doesn’t turn you over to me.”

“It’s not the queen you need to worry about,” she said seriously. “It’s my mother.”

He blinked at that. “Which one was she?”

“The grim looking one in purple. Stood next to the queen.”

He shrugged. “She can’t be any fiercer than you.” She gave a startled laugh at that. “I still can’t believe, you’re being so forgiving,” he admitted. “You refused to give me any quarter last time. I alternated between anger and black despair. And still you held firm.” The look in his eye was so admiring that it took Mathilde’s breath away. “My magnificent wife,” he said with feeling.

“Well, but it wasn’t your fault Tristan tried to kill me,” Mathilde pointed out.

“I should have been there to protect you,” he insisted. “Instead of on that fool’s errand.”

“That’s true enough,” said Mathilde, and looked at him sideways to see how he took that!

He gazed back at her, a little wary. “If I ever do anything so stupid again…”

“You could swear your oath on it now, with a kiss,” she suggested hopefully.

He drew a sharp breath. “But first,” he said huskily. “I need to apologize for those words I spoke to you that night we parted. Gods, Mathilde, if you only knew how much they’ve haunted me.” He swallowed. “As soon as I left you that night, they started eating into me, and causing me pain. They were the first thing I thought of when I woke, and the last thing I thought of before sleep. They were with me every second of the day and they weighed down so heavy on my soul that I felt like I could barely—”