CHAPTER THREE #2
Once the covers were removed, and dishes both of fruit and sweetmeats placed upon the table, Raith had, to his bride’s consternation, told the landlord he did not wish to be disturbed again until he rang the bell.
Rosina’s breath caught in her throat as he looked across at her. But his first words were not at all alarming.
“Have you eaten sufficient?”
“I thank you, sir, yes.”
Rosina had in fact made a good meal, for she found herself to be hungry.
She had begun with a little difficulty upon a steaming bowl of pease pottage.
But at the first remove, her appetite had quickened, and she managed to consume a portion of pigeon pie, together with stewed mushrooms and pickled French beans.
A white fricassee of chicken had followed, of which Rosina had taken but a mouthful, only to obviate the need for persuasion from across the table.
But she had rejected a Bath pudding, opting instead to partake of a little fruit.
Lord Raith, she noticed, had been almost as sparing, instead refreshing himself liberally from a bottle of claret that was provided along with the food.
Rosina had taken only water, but now her husband reached out to the wineglass that stood to one side of her place, and filled it half-full of the red liquid.
He laid it down in front of her. “It is appropriate, do you not think, to drink to our nuptials?”
Rosina did not think so at all, but she was chary of saying so. Lifting the glass, she sipped a little of the wine. She watched him follow suit, aware he watched her. When he spoke, it was with a tentative approach, or so it seemed to Rosina.
“It is early days, I know, but we may as well go over our expectations for the future.”
Rosina gazed at him blankly. Our expectations? Was she supposed to have any? He must be referring to his own. To show willing must be her first concern.
“I will be glad to know what you require of me.”
“Let me rather ask first what you expect.”
She was goaded into instant response. “Why, nothing, sir.”
For the first time, Lord Raith smiled. Oddly, the scar changed with the smile. He looked far less sinister. Unless it was due to the poor light?
“Come, that is quite unreasonable. You must have some thoughts of what you would wish your life to be. More now than ever, I would suppose.”
But Rosina was not fully attending. The word she had thought of echoed in her head. Sinister. Was it appropriate? Yes, it had been so, the first moment she saw him. But not now. Not when his tone was gentle, when he smiled.
He was eyeing her, and she suddenly realised he had been speaking. What had he said?
“I beg your pardon, sir. I was distracted for the moment. What did you ask me?”
The smile faded, as did the cordiality of his voice. “You must have expectations, ma’am. I would be glad to hear them.”
Rosina sighed. If he was going to be this difficult, any expectations she might have were vain. It was as well she had none. “I gave up all thought of deciding my own future a long time ago. I would rather you tell me what you wish, so that I might school my conduct accordingly.”
“How dutiful!”
“Is that not what you wanted?”
“I don’t know what I wanted!”
Raith controlled himself with difficulty. This would not do. He was only driving her further away. But before he could say anything less abrasive, she forestalled him.
“My lord, I am grateful for your protection.”
Raith caught at the word. “Protection?” He thought the dark eyes flickered, but he could not be sure in the uncertain light.
“I meant only to s-say, that — that I am happy to be given this much improvement in my life. I only wish to keep my side of our agreement.”
A flurried cover-up. Protection was exactly what she had meant. Suspicion rose again. Protection from what? Or was it, from whom? Better to pretend not to have noticed. At least she was talking.
“Pray tell me what I must do. I know you have made precise plans for this marriage. It is, after all, for your convenience.”
She was right. He’d had very precise ideas about how he was to live with the mythical wife of his imagination.
She would, he had supposed, keep the household running smoothly, be at his call when nature so demanded, and in due time bear his children.
He had seen them lead all but separate lives while existing side by side.
But that was before this girl entered his ken.
The prospect appeared to him bleak beyond words, now he was married to Rosina Charlton.
Impossible to state anything of what was in his mind. She was waiting for a response. He tried for a neutral smile. “We will have to work it out as we go along, Rosina.”
Rosina’s attention caught on his use of her name, coupled with the smile. Her breath tightened. He really did look quite different. Only what had he said? Was she to have no guidelines? Must she tread blindly? With a man so prickly that every utterance could make him withdraw into his shell.
“What are you thinking?”
His question came softly. Alarmed by her thoughts, she looked quickly away. “I had hoped that I might have an indication — some hint of how I should go on. I do not want to draw your fire…” She faded out. What had possessed her to say that? Now he would grow cold again.
But Raith was shamed. She was right. He had shown himself disgracefully apt to snap, and on her wedding day.
He looked her over while her gaze was averted.
She had removed the cap, leaving her head so dark in the dim glow of the room that the white elfin countenance looked still more vulnerable.
He had noted the old-fashioned gown. It had made her look the more delicate, drawn in to her small waist. Something would have to be done about her wardrobe.
She must be possessed of little suited to her new station.
Not that she needed anything to enhance her allure.
Becoming aware of his regard, Rosina glanced back at him, and met his eyes.
There was that in them which she barely understood.
But the message spoke to her depths, and the image of her bedchamber came to her, shortening her breath.
He had ordered separate rooms. But what if he chose to enter hers tonight?
She would have to receive him. Only she had rather they had been better acquainted first. The notion of being bedded by a total stranger was almost as nightmarish as the fate she had previously faced.
Curiously, she did not feel him so much a stranger still, though she had known him less than a day. But she could hardly feel sufficiently acquainted with him to be indulging in that particular intimacy.
Raith noted the changes of expression that flitted across her face, and wondered at what caused them. She was afraid of him, he thought. Small wonder. He must try to amend it.
“You have no reason to fear me.”
“I don’t!”
“You need not dissemble. I can see it in your face.”
She looked down, and then away, as if she would hide her features from him. “If — if I am a trifle apprehensive, it is not to be wondered at.”
“I agree with you. It is a situation any young woman would find intimidating. The more so, under the circumstances.”
But her aspect did not change. She looked both dismayed and questioning. All too vulnerable. Her glance met his for a moment and then again, looked away. Goaded, he could not withhold an accusation. “You are doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“You look as if you will ask me something, and then — through apprehension, I must suppose — you withhold it. Be plain with me, Rosina. I am not a monster.”
She met his gaze fully. “Then why did you think so badly of yourself to wish to become riveted only to a stranger?”
“Because I could rather bear the cringing revulsion of a stranger, than that of some society damsel,” he flashed back before he could stop himself.