said instead, fingering her necklace. “You must love her very much.”
His hesitation was palpable as his eyes seemed fixated on her chest. “As I’m bound to do. She is my wife.”
He sat down, then immediately stood again and started pacing. Then he suddenly stopped and turned to Isabel, his green eyes searching. “Have you loved, Countess?”
“You’re asking why?”
“You have never married.”
“I haven’t? I mean, of course I haven’t. But Arthur, you seem to know much about me.” A whole helluva lot more than she knew about her countess self, as a matter of fact. Until just now, she’d had no idea whether she’d ever been married or not.
Apparently not.
Good God, Viviane, I am no freaking virgin.
’Tis true, Isabel, do you not consider that win-win?
He thinks I am at this stage.
Then consider yourself a hussy, and stop worrying about age.
“How is it that you’ve come by all of this information about me?”
He looked adorably confused. “I’m not certain. It must have been details my men gathered whilst they were checking upon Dumont.”
“Why would you have private investigators checking on me?”
Chagrin looked cute on him, too. “My apologies, Countess. But I would be amiss should I not have knowledge prior to your arrival.”
They were temporarily interrupted by Tim, who arrived with a tray loaded with two goblets. He offered the tray first to her and then Arthur, bowed as they thanked him and silently took his leave, his face betraying no sign of suspicion at what had to be an unusual situation. Isabel wasn’t a connoisseur, but she was pretty sure the liquid in her goblet was either brandy or cognac or the medieval equivalent. It certainly didn’t look or smell like wine.
Arthur swirled his drink before taking a sip. “How could a man not take control of your heart?”
“I haven’t said that my heart has never been engaged, sir.” In fact it felt quite a little too engaged at the moment, and she’d known this man for less than twenty-four hours. “I’ve just not met one who has made me want to be taking those vows,” she said, smiling. “I take them too seriously to say them without meaning them.”
As soon as the words were out, she wanted to kick herself. The pained expression on his face nearly sliced up her heart. “But,” she added quickly, “I feel certain I’ll know him and that elusive thing called love when I see him.”
He looked down. “That makes sense to me. You are, what do they say? Particular?”
“You could say that. Why, Arthur, are you asking me these questions?”
He looked down at her necklace then up, and those gorgeous eyes drilled into her. “Because, madam, I have wanted to kiss you from the moment we met. And I know this is so wrong. My wife’s lips should be the only ones that touch mine. And yet, yours beckon me.”
He turned his back to her. “That was so inappropriate. Please, forget I even uttered such nonsense. I do not understand why I cannot seem to control my tongue around you.”
She had a good feeling she knew why. There was a price to pay for the power of the necklace. And apparently she was not the only one who might have to pay it.
Oh, great, Lady, I want it, too. What do I do?
Well, crap. This is not going as I’d foreseen.
I will do what I can to resist.
The Lady seemed to ponder for a while, but it was probably less than a nanosecond because Arthur hadn’t moved, as if the Goddess had frozen him in time as she thought things through.
It seems, Isabel, there’s a fork in this road, one that carries a heavy load. This way or that, which will it be? When Merlin’s happiness is what matters to me.
But—
Wait a moment, I’m not done, Isabel, as your happiness and Arthur’s matter as well. I fear in my selfishness I’ve not thought this through. I now believe you do what you must do; that fork in the road I spoke of afore, I feel you must choose the one that matters more. ’Tis Arthur’s happiness
His hesitation was palpable as his eyes seemed fixated on her chest. “As I’m bound to do. She is my wife.”
He sat down, then immediately stood again and started pacing. Then he suddenly stopped and turned to Isabel, his green eyes searching. “Have you loved, Countess?”
“You’re asking why?”
“You have never married.”
“I haven’t? I mean, of course I haven’t. But Arthur, you seem to know much about me.” A whole helluva lot more than she knew about her countess self, as a matter of fact. Until just now, she’d had no idea whether she’d ever been married or not.
Apparently not.
Good God, Viviane, I am no freaking virgin.
’Tis true, Isabel, do you not consider that win-win?
He thinks I am at this stage.
Then consider yourself a hussy, and stop worrying about age.
“How is it that you’ve come by all of this information about me?”
He looked adorably confused. “I’m not certain. It must have been details my men gathered whilst they were checking upon Dumont.”
“Why would you have private investigators checking on me?”
Chagrin looked cute on him, too. “My apologies, Countess. But I would be amiss should I not have knowledge prior to your arrival.”
They were temporarily interrupted by Tim, who arrived with a tray loaded with two goblets. He offered the tray first to her and then Arthur, bowed as they thanked him and silently took his leave, his face betraying no sign of suspicion at what had to be an unusual situation. Isabel wasn’t a connoisseur, but she was pretty sure the liquid in her goblet was either brandy or cognac or the medieval equivalent. It certainly didn’t look or smell like wine.
Arthur swirled his drink before taking a sip. “How could a man not take control of your heart?”
“I haven’t said that my heart has never been engaged, sir.” In fact it felt quite a little too engaged at the moment, and she’d known this man for less than twenty-four hours. “I’ve just not met one who has made me want to be taking those vows,” she said, smiling. “I take them too seriously to say them without meaning them.”
As soon as the words were out, she wanted to kick herself. The pained expression on his face nearly sliced up her heart. “But,” she added quickly, “I feel certain I’ll know him and that elusive thing called love when I see him.”
He looked down. “That makes sense to me. You are, what do they say? Particular?”
“You could say that. Why, Arthur, are you asking me these questions?”
He looked down at her necklace then up, and those gorgeous eyes drilled into her. “Because, madam, I have wanted to kiss you from the moment we met. And I know this is so wrong. My wife’s lips should be the only ones that touch mine. And yet, yours beckon me.”
He turned his back to her. “That was so inappropriate. Please, forget I even uttered such nonsense. I do not understand why I cannot seem to control my tongue around you.”
She had a good feeling she knew why. There was a price to pay for the power of the necklace. And apparently she was not the only one who might have to pay it.
Oh, great, Lady, I want it, too. What do I do?
Well, crap. This is not going as I’d foreseen.
I will do what I can to resist.
The Lady seemed to ponder for a while, but it was probably less than a nanosecond because Arthur hadn’t moved, as if the Goddess had frozen him in time as she thought things through.
It seems, Isabel, there’s a fork in this road, one that carries a heavy load. This way or that, which will it be? When Merlin’s happiness is what matters to me.
But—
Wait a moment, I’m not done, Isabel, as your happiness and Arthur’s matter as well. I fear in my selfishness I’ve not thought this through. I now believe you do what you must do; that fork in the road I spoke of afore, I feel you must choose the one that matters more. ’Tis Arthur’s happiness
Similar Books
