“Agreed. Your point is well founded, but you are my wife now, no longer just my bride. Obeying me takes precedence from hence forward.”

He stopped himself from throwing the second gauntlet. He dropped it while he struggled to regain his composure.

“Promise …” He shut his mouth and took a deep breath. “I understand that you were trying to respect your parents, but our union is celebrated now. Promise me, swear to me, Bridget, that you will stay by my side henceforth. Give me your agreement that this matter is settled.”

His eyes were bright, and a muscle along his jawline twitched. He flattened his hands on the tabletop. “I want your solemn pledge of honor, Bridget, nothing less.”

She was torn. Her anger dampened in the face of his willingness to accept her word. That was trust and not a thing that came easily for a man such as he.

“I do not know what to do anymore.”

His fingers curled on the tabletop. “Why not? You are my wife. Do I not deserve your loyalty?”

She wanted to give him what he sought, wanted to soothe his troubled expression. It was but a few simple words, but she knew they would be false.

“You know the ways of this world. There will be a cry from court if you keep me.”

“A matter you will trust me to shoulder, Bridget.” He straightened up, much of his anger clearing from his expression. “I ask you to settle into your place and allow me to shelter you as a husband should.”

She clasped her hands, trying to maintain her resolve. “And I ask you to recall that husband and wife should work together. That is the reason for marriage, the forming of a union.”

Triumph lit his eyes. “Exactly what I desire, a union between us. Give me your promise on the matter.”

“The chancellor could take everything you have earned from you.” She shook her head. “I will not be the cause of you losing all that you have battled to hold.”

Her voice trailed off, and her attention strayed to the bed. It was a huge one, with carved head-and footboards. Thick curtains hung from the canopy. Moving closer, she marveled at the fact that those curtains were made of velvet.

“Henry gave me that bed.”

She jumped because Curan was directly behind her. She had not heard even one step. His hands closed around her shoulders, gently keeping her in place while he leaned down to tease her ear with his lips.

“Henry Tudor.”

“The king?”

His hands gently rubbed her arms, sending little ripples of sensation down her body. Her skin became more sensitive, eagerly anticipating where his lips would touch next. Erotic anticipation began to burn along her neck at the sight of the bed.

“A gift given in honor of our wedding. Henry had it made by the very same family that made his own.” His lips closed around her earlobe, drawing a stiff breath from her.

“Look at it, Bridget. I have imagined you in it from the moment I laid eyes upon it. Swear that our marriage is true and binding in your thoughts, and we shall leave the past behind us.”

She suddenly understood how Eve must have felt. She was tempted, her resolve so weakened by his voice. It was rich with the promise of the lover she had known last night.

“Henry will not allow the chancellor to interfere in our union, Bridget, you must trust me on that.”

She pulled herself away from him, stumbling because of how fast she moved to avoid being held captive. Frustration showed in Curan’s eyes, but it was edged with determination, and he was not alone in that desire.

“I will not be the cause of your downfall. We must think of any children we might have.”

His eyes darkened. “There will be children. Be very sure that I will not allow you to sleep anywhere except by my side.” His lips curved up. “And there will be no chemise worn in my bed, I promise you that, Bridget.”

She believed him. Her cheeks colored, heating with a blush that told him how much she liked his declaration. He reached out and laid the back of his hand along the side of her face. It was such a simple touch, but she shivered in response.

“Swear to me, Bridget. I have no liking for this fight between us.”

“If I give you that promise, I condemn you to whatever wrath the chancellor wishes to strike out with.”

His eyes narrowed, and his hand fell away from her face. He hooked his fingers through his wide sword belt, gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“So be it.” His voice was gruff with distaste. “You shall remain in this chamber unless you have my permission to leave it.”

Bridget stiffened, but he was not finished.

“Without your dress.”

“What?”

He offered her no mercy, only a hard expression. “I doubt that you will find it simple to slip across the yard without a dress, so you will disrobe and hand me your clothing. It will be stored elsewhere until you swear to me or I get a letter from your father ending this debate.”

“That is barbaric.”

“I consider it kinder than chaining you to the wall. Yet I would far rather have your word. The road is full of danger, Bridget; I will not have you risking yourself in some attempt to shelter me.”

“Because I am a woman?”

“Because you are my wife.”

She walked away from the bed, unable to quell her own longing for it. The man was unable to see reason when it was spoken plainly to him. She felt his eyes on her and turned to stare straight back at him. She watched a flicker of approval light his eyes, but it did nothing to soften his expression.

“Disrobe, Bridget. Do not make me handle you unkindly.”

“I make you do nothing, my lord.”

But she also recalled her first lesson from Marie, and the man had ordered her to disrobe …


Chapter Twelve




Raising her chin, Bridget stared into Curan’s eyes.

“I suppose there is little point in testing my strength against yours.”

Surprise flickered across his eyes, but suspicion remained. Lifting one hand, Bridget reminded herself to move slowly. Her heart began beating faster, and her senses became keener. She heard a pop when she undid the hook that held her over-partlet closed. Thrusting a finger into the opening, she traced her own collarbone while drawing the wool garment aside to reveal her skin.

“Is this what you wanted, my lord?”

She drew the over-partlet off her shoulders completely and walked toward another table that was near the fireplace built into the wall near a huge set of windows.

“I would prefer your promise and the removal of your gown.”

She offered him a raised eyebrow.

“You sound greedy. If I gave you my word, I would expect to keep my dress.” She forced her words to pass her lips slowly. Curan seemed willing to wait for each one as well. His eyes followed her every motion, no matter how small. She gently unbuttoned one cuff and then separated the fabric before shifting her attention to the matching one.

“I believe you shall have to choose. My word …” She trailed her finger along the newly exposed skin of her wrist. “Or my dress …”

He swallowed roughly.

The little response made her confidence swell. Heat began licking along her skin as she moved her hands to the hooks that held her bodice closed. The first gave way with a pop, and the next one, too.

“It’s rather chilly …”

She turned her back but peeked over her shoulder at Curan. His lips were pressed into a hard line, but another little pop told him that a third hook had been released.

“The fire feels quite nice against my skin.”

“You are toying with me.”

Another pop, and the shoulders of her dress began to sag down her shoulders.

“Such a critical thing to say, especially considering my very perfect compliance with your demand, my lord.”

She rolled the title and turned to display her half-open dress. Her corset was in plain sight, and his attention settled on the top of it, where her exposed breasts swelled up. Her fingers released the last two hooks, and she turned back to face the fire before allowing the dress to begin falling down her body. The garment caught on her hips, and she smoothed her hands down the length of her stays until she reached it.

“That courtesan taught you her tricks.”

The dress slumped to the floor, and she stepped out of it. Turning back around, she toyed with the end of the lace that held her corset tightly closed.

“Is there something wrong with my actions? You did tell me to disrobe. Am I doing a poor job of it? Shall I try again?” She bent her knees and lowered her body so that she could grasp the pooled dress.

“Leave it.” He blew out a stiff breath in response.

She straightened and pulled on the tie holding her corset closed. The cord gave way, and the weight of her breasts tugged the lace through the eyelets.

“You need not become cross, my lord. I am simply attempting to make certain that I understand your will.”

“I find myself very pleased with your compliance, Bridget.”

His fingers tightened on his belt but only for a moment. He grasped the end of the belt and tugged it so that the metal tongue that secured it loosened. With a practiced hand, he caught the entire belt and sword, lifting it up to place it on the table that was near the door. He reached up and unbuttoned the first few buttons that held his simple doublet closed. The sight of his shirt drew a memory of the previous night vividly to her mind. She cast her attention down as it planted ideas in her mind of how much she might enjoy being stripped again while he was with her.

He uttered her name in a husky tone that renewed her blush. His lips began to curve. “Dare I hope to be more pleased by your actions?”

She turned her back upon him instead. The lace holding her stays took only a few quick motions to pull loose. The garment instantly fell away from her body. A little sigh of relief rose from her throat as her chemise was allowed to float gently around her natural shape.