Reclaimed By Her Rebel Knight. Jenni Fletcher
hunter?’
‘No!’ She shook her head quickly. ‘I did not mean...’
‘It’s all right. I can see why you might think so. Our marriage was a practical arrangement, after all. But the truth is...’ he made a faintly apologetic gesture ‘...I have bigger concerns.’
‘Oh.’ She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to such a statement. She seemed to feel equal parts grateful, surprised and hypocritically offended. ‘So if I wanted an annulment...’
‘You would only need ask. I would not oppose it.’
He lifted a hand to stifle a yawn and she felt a fresh stab of offence. Bigger concerns was bad enough, but now she was apparently boring him, too! Then again... She leaned closer, belatedly noticing the dark shadows around his eyes... He looked as if he hadn’t slept properly in days. Neither had she, though she doubted it was for the same reasons. It was hard to imagine him feeling anxious about seeing her. Especially when he had bigger concerns...
‘Forgive me.’ He ran a hand over his jaw. ‘It’s been a long month.’
‘Then you should rest. We have another hour or so before the banquet.’ She gestured towards the daybed. ‘Sleep. It might be a long evening otherwise.’
‘True—’ he threw a longing look towards the cushions ‘—but I would not wish to insult you, my lady.’
‘You would not be.’ No more than he just had anyway... ‘I’d appreciate some time to think over your offer.’
‘Then I’d be happy to oblige.’ He made his way across the room, collapsing enthusiastically on top of the coverlet and folding his arms behind his head with a sigh of satisfaction. ‘That’s better. Although if you want an annulment then the less time we spend alone together, the better.’
‘I know, but if either of us leaves now...’
‘We’ll both be besieged with questions. Good point.’ He sighed again and closed his eyes. ‘In that case, wake me up when you come to a decision.’
‘I will.’ She took one last look at him and then turned her face back to the window. ‘Matthew.’
Constance twisted her body sideways, curling both legs up beneath her on the window seat so that she could sit comfortably and watch the rain pouring into the rapidly swelling puddles below. It was coming down in earnest now, but the sound was soothing, almost lulling her to sleep, too. The very worst of the storm was just missing them, passing by to the south by the look of it. Though if the last few weeks were anything to go by, it wouldn’t be long before the next. The ground had been waterlogged now for almost a month, though fortunately the harvest had all been collected before the weather had turned. At this rate, however, the winter promised to be a long one.
None of which was the subject she ought to be thinking about. She ought to be thinking about her husband’s offer of an annulment and whether or not she could accept it. A few days ago she would have said yes in a heartbeat, but a few days ago she would never have considered it a possibility. Now that it was, the decision wasn’t so easy, mainly because the kind of man who would make such an offer was exactly the kind of man she would want to stay married to. The irony would have amused her if she hadn’t spent the past five years resenting him!
She glanced over her shoulder at the daybed. Judging by the sound of his breathing, Matthew was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling so steadily that she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. She’d spent the last few nights tossing and turning with worry and yet he’d gone to sleep simply by closing his eyes! Probably because he wasn’t, as it turned out, particularly bothered about whether she remained married to him or not. He had bigger concerns. Which at least proved that he wasn’t the fortune-hunting opportunist she’d assumed, though his attitude towards her inheritance was somewhat perplexing, too. He’d seemed almost ambivalent about Lacelby and the land that came with it, but if that were the case then why had he married her in the first place? He’d said something about it taking place during a difficult time in his life, but surely he’d wanted her inheritance five years ago? In which case, why offer to give it up now?
On the other hand, what did it matter? Why wasn’t as important as what she ought to do next, whether to accept the freedom he offered or to stay married. Amazingly, he’d left the decision up to her, although if she chose an annulment then she doubted the King would let her remain unmarried for long, presuming he didn’t take her inheritance for himself, that was. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up in the same position she’d been in five years ago, compelled to be wed, although at least this time she might be allowed to make her own choice.
Now that she thought about it, however, the prospect seemed more than a little daunting. It wasn’t as if she had much experience of men—certainly not much good experience. How could she possibly know who would or would not make a good husband? At least with Matthew Wintour she knew what she was getting, or had a rough idea anyway.
Besides, more than anything she wanted to go home and an annulment would only complicate matters and delay her return even further. Matthew Wintour might be the man who’d sent her away, but he was also her way back. And once he’d stopped scowling she’d found him surprisingly easy to talk to. She’d never told anyone how desperately homesick she’d been when she’d first left Lacelby, not even her uncle or Isabella for fear of upsetting them. It had been a relief to finally admit it out loud, as if the words had been on the very tip of her tongue for years. Somehow she’d felt able to tell him, a complete stranger who was still, somehow, her husband. Maybe because he seemed like the kind of man who appreciated the truth. Maybe because he wasn’t the arrogant tyrant she’d first assumed him to be. It was still hard to imagine feeling for him the way Isabella felt for Tristan, but he was more observant, more considerate, more sensitive even than she’d expected, albeit in a stern, forbidding kind of way. Not to mention far more good looking than she’d given him credit for the previous evening. And then there was his voice... Not that she was going to forgive just because of that!
Most important of all, however, was that the way he looked at her didn’t frighten her. As far as she could tell, he’d kept his gaze above her neck the whole time they’d been talking. Not many men did that. Not unless...she tensed as a new, less appealing thought occurred to her...unless that was why he’d offered an annulment, because he really wanted one himself? He’d called her beautiful and said he wasn’t disappointed, but what if he was lying? What if he’d taken one look at her and decided that he wanted a way out of their marriage even if it meant giving up her inheritance, too? She didn’t know which was worse, a husband who stared as if she were a piece of meat or one who didn’t want to look at her at all...
The dull thrumming of the rain against the window seemed to get louder and louder as she mulled over each idea in her head, only the gradual darkening of the sky outside alerting her to the fact that time was passing and she really ought to wake him. The banquet would be starting soon and they were the guests of honour. If she chose to stay married to him, that was.
Reluctantly, she stood up and walked across to the daybed. Despite the sound of raised voices and tables being set out below, Matthew was still fast asleep, flat on his back with one arm across his chest and the other stretched above his head. She reached a hand out to touch his shoulder and then stopped with her fingers a hair’s breadth away. She was used to sharing a bed with Isabella, but being so close to a sleeping man was different. He was almost twice the size of her cousin for a start and the warmth emanating from his large body felt strangely intimate and exciting, making her heart race and her body shiver in a way she’d never experienced before. She leaned closer, bringing her face almost to a level with his as she breathed in his musky scent, a combination of leather, sandalwood and something else...something indefinable and male. Up close she could see flecks of stubble across his chin, pale golden hairs that