Chapter Ten #2
He stopped digging in the chest and looked at her. “What is the matter with you?” he asked. “You have not addressed me formally in days.”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t addressed me as ‘my lord’ in days. Why now?”
Andromeda was, if nothing else, a truthful woman.
She wasn’t one to hide things or play games.
That had never been something she had been adept at, and most especially when it came to men.
She’d never been fond of a man in her life, at least not one she thought was handsome and charming, so this was all quite new to her.
Tristan had enchanted her with his kindness and compassion, and to discover he wasn’t who she thought he was had her unnerved.
Reaching out, she shut the door so the servants couldn’t hear.
“I have never wanted to work harder in my life than I have for you,” she said quietly.
“I thought we were establishing a pleasant and honest relationship between us, something that… I’ve not had many people be completely kind to me as you have, and I realized it was something…
something… Oh, forgive me. I am not making much sense. ”
He came away from the table, looking at her with concern. “Then something is wrong,” he said. “What is it? Have I done something?”
She shook her head quickly. Then she nodded. Then she sighed heavily and hung her head. “I do not want you to purchase anything for me, my lord,” she said. “I would rather do it myself.”
“Why?”
“Because you have given me far too much,” she said. “You have been far too generous.”
“And that is a problem?”
She nodded, quickly, unable to look him in the eye. “Men talk,” she said. “They may think there is something inappropriate between us. They may think you are buying my favor.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Am I?”
“Nay, my lord.”
“That’s a pity.”
Her head shot up, looking at him with big eyes. “What do you mean by that, my lord?”
He waved an irritated hand at her. “Stop calling me that,” he said.
“You haven’t called me anything for days.
I have been waiting for you to ask permission to call me by my name, but you haven’t yet.
You haven’t called me anything at all, and I do not want to hear you address me formally.
My name is Tristan. My close friends call me Pat.
Call me either of those names and I will answer, Andie.
But do not go back to addressing me formally because I do not want you to. ”
Her eyes were wider than before. “B-but why?” she stammered. “You are my liege. It would not be right for me to call you by your Christian name.”
Now, Tristan was the one unbalanced. Little by little, the conversation had chipped away at him, and now he was feeling… odd. Disappointed, even. Lifting his shoulders, he plopped down in the nearest chair and looked at her.
“I understand,” he said quietly. “There is no hope here.”
“Hope for what?”
He lifted a hand in a gesture that suggested he probably shouldn’t say what he was about to, but he did it anyway.
“I thought…” he said, then stopped himself.
But the pause was only momentary. “I think you are the most beautiful and enchanting woman I’ve ever met.
You are bright and talented and gracious.
You are a survivor. There is so much about you that intrigues me, and I was hoping… hoping you might feel the same way.”
Andromeda was thrilled and bewildered. What he said sounded suspiciously as if he felt giddy when he saw her, just as she felt giddy when she saw him.
It was the first hint he’d ever given her that it might be the case.
But he’d spoken clumsily, so she wasn’t clear on what he was trying to say to her, exactly.
And she very much wanted to be clear.
“Feel the same way?” she repeated. “About what? That I intrigue… myself?”
He chuckled softly, putting a hand over his face. “Nay,” he said, muffled through his fingers. “About me. I was hoping you felt the same way about me.”
Now, Andromeda understood everything. It was what she’d suspected all along, but she needed him to be plain about it.
Stunned, she stood there for a moment, looking at him as he sat in the chair with a hand over his face.
It occurred to her that it must have taken a great deal of courage to say what he’d said.
It was true that they’d spent the past several days smiling at one another, speaking on many subjects during the evenings at supper, and generally having wonderful conversations.
At least, she thought they were wonderful, which was why she’d felt massively disappointed by the conversation she’d overheard.
A man like that couldn’t possibly marry a woman like her.
But now… what he was telling her now was too good to be true.
“I think you would have to have been deaf and blind not to realize that I think you are a handsome and charming man,” she said.
“Aye, I feel the same way, but… but I heard what you told William. I will confess that I was scrubbing the floor near the entry to the solar, not so I could hear what was being said, but because… because I wanted to watch you if I could. But I heard you tell William that you are the son of kings.”
Tristan didn’t hesitate. He nodded as his hand came away from his face. “I am,” he said. “So you were really scrubbing by the door simply to catch a glimpse of me?”
He was focusing on the wrong thing, and she didn’t want to engage in a gentle flirt with him.
The truth was that they’d not really flirted with one another since they met because other people were always around.
Tristan never let the conversation become personal or too sweet, and nor had she, so there had been no flirting to speak of.
She wasn’t going to let him start now, not when this moment was so crucial.
“I heard you tell de Wolfe that you were going to marry the daughter of a Scots earl,” she said, lowering her gaze.
“That is exactly whom you should wed, Tristan, and I will be happy for you when you do. But I will not be a flirtation or an affair before that happens. No matter how attractive I find you, I could not engage in anything scandalous. I am sorry.”
She turned for the door, grabbing at the latch, but he was on his feet, rushing toward her.
“Nay,” he said softy but firmly, grasping her wrists to prevent her from opening the door.
“Don’t go. Please. I know what you heard, but I did not mean I was definitely going to marry the daughter of a Scots earl.
I was speaking of something that would never happen.
It was an empty threat to de Wolfe and nothing more. ”
Andromeda still wouldn’t look at him. “I understand,” she said. “But I repeat that I cannot engage in anything improper. I must make my position clear.”
“That is good, because I would never suggest anything improper.”
“Then we are in agreement.”
His lips twisted with disapproval. “We are not in agreement,” he said, gently pulling her back into the chamber.
“We are not in agreement at all. I am telling you that I find you alluring and enchanting. I am telling you that I would like to begin a courtship. I will ask your father, but I wanted your agreement first. Andie, I find you quite charming and kind and, frankly, more appealing to me than any woman I’ve ever met.
Is your reluctance because you heard of my lineage?
Because you’re Irish and the Irish hate the English? ”
Andromeda shook her head firmly. “Nay,” she said. “I was raised by an English family. I feel as if I’m English more than Irish.”
“Then what is it?”
She looked at him then. Gazing into his dark eyes was like losing a piece of her soul. Every second that passed, another piece broke off and was sucked into the vortex of his stare.
“Who is your father?” she finally whispered.
“King Henry,” he said without hesitation.
“Henry Curthose, the father of King Richard and King John. Henry carried on an affair with my mother, Princess Alys of France, and I was the result. My half-brothers were kings of England, my nephew currently sits upon the throne, and my uncle is the King of France.”
“You’re a bastard?”
Tristan looked at her as if, suddenly, it all because clear to him. “Ah,” he muttered, releasing her wrists. “I see what it is. I am my father’s bastard. That is why you are reluctant.”
Andromeda immediately shook her head. “That is not the issue at all,” she said in a surprising show of strength. “Tristan, you are the son and brother and nephew of kings. And you want to court the granddaughter of the last King of Dublin?”
“Why not?”
She threw up her hands. “Because that is not nearly prestigious enough for you,” she said.
“Don’t you understand? A man like you must have a wife to bring him wealth and lands and prestige.
I can give you none of those things. My lineage is not only bereft, but I have men out to find me and destroy my family’s line. ”
“I will kill them all.”
“You cannot have a pitiful, dying breed for a wife!”
Their voices, which had been raised, were now suddenly still as they just looked at one another.
The very air around them was pregnant with tension.
Andromeda was coiled, trying to plead her case to a man who wouldn’t listen, and Tristan was simply taking it all in.
At first, he thought she was resistant to him because she didn’t think he was a good enough match for the last descendant of Ascall mac Ragnaill, but now he was coming to realize that she thought that she would be sparing him for something better than her.
It was one of the more selfless things he’d ever witnessed.
After a moment, he reached out and grasped her wrist again, dragging his hand down her flesh until he came to her fingers.
They were green from the dye that she had touched, and he simply stood there a moment, looking at those delicate green fingers.
They were pretty and perfect, like the rest of her.
“I find myself in a very odd position,” he finally murmured.
“You see, I’m rather old for not having been married.
I suppose my vocation as a knight has taken up all of my time.
There have been women from time to time that turned my head, but no one that ever turned it as much as you have.
I understand that you feel you are, as the last of your line, unworthy for marriage to someone like me.
But I am a bastard, so it is not as if I am a prince.
I’m nothing, really. I’m simply a knight for William Marshal.
You consider yourself imperfect, and God knows that I’m imperfect, so mayhap we will be perfect together. ”
Andromeda sighed again, looking at his hand as it fondled hers. “But…”
“Please,” he said quietly. “Just… think on it. I am not looking for an answer today or tomorrow. But I will ask you to think about it. Will you?”
He was battering down the walls of her resistance with his soft words and gentle touch.
God, to be touched like that for the rest of her life by a man who had all of her attention would be like something out of a dream.
Where she could awaken every morning to his face, see his smile, hear his deep and gentle voice.
The lines of his face, the shape of his muscles, the way he held himself… he was glorious.
Would she think about it?
“I will,” she murmured. “I promise, I will.”
He smiled at her, the dark eyes twinkling. “Thank you,” he said. “May I ask something else?”
“What is it?”
“That you change out of that horrible garment before it makes green rivers all over my solar?” he said, watching her grin.
“And then let me take you into the town to the merchant I told you about. If you are worried that you do not have enough money saved, I will deduct it from future earnings. Will that be acceptable?”
Somehow, she couldn’t stand turning him down yet again. He looked so hopeful and was being very polite. Reluctantly, she nodded.
“Very well,” she said. “It is acceptable.”
He grinned, flashing those big white teeth. “Excellent,” he said. “Go and change. I will be waiting for you in the bailey.”
She nodded and began to turn away, but he wasn’t ready to let her hand go yet.
That forced her to pause, and as she watched, he brought her green fingers to his lips and, hunting around for a spot that wasn’t green, deposited a sweet, bristly kiss onto her flesh.
She tasted so good that he did it again.
Andromeda very nearly stumbled out of the study on her way to change out of her wet clothes, blushing to the roots of her hair.