There were a pair of stifled giggles from the maids.

“Thank you. I will attend to my prayers before retiring.”

The maids took their leave, eager to be finished with their duties for the night. May hesitated, the housekeeper clearly expecting Bridget to want help disrobing.

“I am very accustomed to putting myself to bed, May.”

May lowered herself, but there was still firm determination in her gaze. “As mistress, there will be many changes in your life.”

“Yes, well, they may wait until I take my place.”

The housekeeper nodded. “A pleasant night to you, mistress.”

May had a light touch, for Bridget never heard the door close. She sighed with relief as she looked around the chamber to ensure that she was alone. Hiding the fact that she was not having her monthly courses was going to take diligence on her part. The staff were loyal to the lord, for certain.

“That isn’t the bed I wanted to see you in.”

She jerked the covers up to her chin as Curan’s voice cut through the darkness. Gooseflesh rippled down her limbs as she strained to see him in the dark. She didn’t hear him, but his shape materialized from the night anyway. The bed shook as he sat on the side of it.

“Why … why are you here?” It would be far too simple to have her lie discovered.

He blew out a hard breath while watching her.

“Is it not a poor groom who fails to toast his bride on the first night they begin their life together?”

The bed rocked and he was gone, but she still felt his presence in the room. A spark brightened the room and then another as he struck a flint stone. A single candle began to cast its golden light over him a moment later. It was quite magical, the way that single source of light softened him. He appeared very gallant, and she stared in awe at the relaxed expression on his face.

But he frowned when he looked back at her.

“I did not imagine you sleeping in any chamber save my own.”

“This chamber is very nice.”

He reached for a small bottle that rested on the table. She did not recall it being there earlier, so he must have brought it with him. He lifted the bottle and tipped it until fluid poured out of it and into a small silver goblet. The light sparkled off the pouring liquid, and she smelled the strong scent of strong drink filling the room.

Wine. French wine—an expensive item. The aroma of it teased her nose while he filled a second goblet.

“My chamber is nicer and will be even more so when you are sleeping in it with me. I did not marry to endure a cold bed.”

He left the bottle and the candle on the table. The bed itself was far enough from the table to be cast into semidarkness. It set a romantic mood she had only read about in poetry.

Yet this was very real.

The bed rocked again when he sat down, confirming that she was not lost in any girlish fantasy. Her cheeks heated when she noticed his gaze aimed at her with no hint of wavering.

“If I had not been distracted, I would have had May take you to my chamber in spite of your courses.”

“What?”

She nearly fumbled the goblet, spilling the wine onto the sheets. Curan merely offered her a firm look while holding the stem of the goblet steady until she recovered and grasped it solidly.

“I do not mean to have us sleeping in separate chambers.”

He lifted his own goblet to his lips but watched her over the rim of the glass. He was judging her once more, reading her face for clues as to her thoughts.

“Most noble unions do not share a chamber, my lord.”

He lowered his goblet and frowned at her. “We are in private, Bridget.”

She took a sip from her own wine to cover her indecision. To allow his name to slip across her lips seemed so intimate. This action opened the door to other, even deeper intimacies that were dancing through her mind. Never once had she spoken with a man while in a bed, and she was having difficulty recalling exactly why she needed to keep him away.

Her body held no reservations about welcoming him closer. “I will have to have more time to become accustomed to addressing you in a familiar manner.”

“Hmmm.” He took another sip from his wine but lost a great deal of his judgmental expression. “I suppose that is to be commended. Your lack of comfort in the company of a man.”

He reached out and laid a hand on top of her knee. “I will enjoy giving you ample opportunity to become at ease in my company.”

She jumped, the wine sloshing up toward the rim of the goblet. A quick motion from her wrist rotated the cup enough to avoid staining the sheets. Curan chuckled, rich male amusement filling the chamber while he took another sip from the goblet.

“That is, if I survive this week.” He stroked her knee and up over her thigh as hunger began to flicker in his eyes. “I confess that the temptation is driving me insane.”

His gaze settled on her lips, and the sensitive skin tingled, warming beneath the attention of those dark orbs. She wanted to taste his kiss, wanted to have it combine with the sweet taste of the French wine …

“You should go … now.” Bridget looked away and drained the remaining wine in one, long swallow. The sweet elixir burned a path down her throat and pooled in her belly like liquid fire, but it was nothing compared to the need licking at her.

The hand resting on her thigh squeezed. “I want to stay …”

Her body liked that response. Excitement flared up, burning away at her resolve to refuse to celebrate their union. Once she had lain with him, Lord Oswald would reject her.

She liked the sound of his words, full well, and the firm grip on her thigh told her that Curan enjoyed it, too. She lifted her face to make eye contact. She felt it right down to her toes. His dark stare was piercing and consuming, making it impossible to ignore how much she wanted exactly what he craved, too.

He growled and pushed up to his feet. His lips pressed into a hard line while his grip around the silver wine chalice threatened to destroy its delicate shape.

“You are being more logical than I am, and yet I am not sorry I came to this chamber tonight.” He moved over to the table and refilled his goblet. This time he tossed the wine into his mouth, draining the liquid in two quick swallows. He paused for a long moment before leaning over to blow out the candle.

She instantly felt alone, yet watched. A shiver raced along her back as she strained to hear his steps in the dark room. Instead she felt his fingers sliding along her hot cheek.

“You tempt me beyond measure, Bridget, yet that is nothing to lament.”

He pressed a warm, wine-flavored kiss against her lips that she eagerly returned. But he pulled away, leaving her with only the sound of his breathing to know that he still remained near.

“Are you quite certain you will not take your place beside me in my bed tonight?”

Her fingers gripped the bedding. “There is no doubt.”

No doubt that her parents had forbidden her this man.

She heard him sigh, a soft sound that betrayed his disappointment. It wasn’t arrogant or demanding such as she expected from him. But it cut her deeper than any words he had spoken.

“Until dawn, sweet Bridget.”

Until I discover a way to leave you … or cast my fortune to the wind and embrace what I really long for …

Such was a tantalizing idea … rich with the promise of pleasure and even affection.

She heard the door softly open and close behind him. The scent of candle wax drifted into the bed curtains, making her eyes burn with unshed tears for what was not to be.


“So, you’re the bride Curan spent so much effort contracting.”

Bridget turned in surprise but more so for the way her temper flared. Before she even turned around she knew who was in the chamber now. A small lantern hung from the woman’s gloved fingers, casting a welcoming glow through its costly glass sides.

Lady Justina was even lovelier up close. Her complexion was flawless and her eyes the blue of a summer day. Her lips looked like new spring berries, and she knew how to carry herself well. She looked down her nose, clearly judging Bridget.

“Yes, I am.”

Justina blew out a little snort. “You needn’t take such a tone, Bridget. After all, I have traveled a great distance to assist you.”

“What do you mean?”

Justina sighed. “Your father was most concerned when he heard that Lord Ryppon had left court with his full contingent of men. He made no secret of the fact that he intended to claim you on his way north. Since you had not arrived yet at court, your father feared that you might be caught before you could obey his summons.”

So her mother was correct. Her father had changed his mind about her match with Curan. The walls suddenly felt thicker and even more impossible to escape, while her need to do exactly that grew.

“I fail to understand what manner of help you bring me.” Bridget lifted her hands to indicate the walls around them both. “You are as much a prisoner as I, now that the gate is lowered for the night.”

Justina’s eyebrows rose slightly. She pressed her hand against the door to make sure it was closed before moving closer. Her voice lowered when she spoke once again.

“I know Amber Hill. There are two escape routes built into the walls in case of the castle being overrun. Your father sent me here to make sure you do not celebrate your wedding. Lord Oswald is not a man to disappoint. Thank God you sent Curan away even if you had to lie to do so.”

Bridget felt her gaze lower for being caught. “How did you know I wasn’t suffering my courses?”

“You did not ask the housekeeper for more linen. She will report such a suspicious thing by tomorrow, for Curan is her lord.”