“Then they should have told me.”
“I gather they tried.”
Agitated, Joscelind rose, and he could see the effort she was making to control her temper. “Then I shall speak to them again.”
“Yes, I believe that will be necessary. They aren’t sure what to do.”
Perhaps it was time he gave her some warning of her status. Riona would say that he owed her that. “Unfortunately, I cannot have a wife who causes so much conflict in the kitchen.”
Angry indignation blazed in Joscelind’s eyes, and her usual mask of placid composure fell away. “I’veneverhad any trouble running my father’s household,” she declared. “My servants always do exactlywhatthey’re toldwhenthey’re told, so if there’s any fault here, my lord—”
She clenched her teeth, as if trying to silence herself.
He stepped into the breech and gave her an excuse. “The servants in your father’s household are no doubt used to your methods. Regrettably, mine aren’t.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s it,” she said, quickly taking the pretext he handed her. “I’m quite certain that over time…” She lowered her head, then raised her eyes to give him a look surely intended to be beguiling. “We could come to understand each other better.”
Nicholas refrained from saying that she would never have the chance to try. “Perhaps.”
Raising her chin, Joscelind reached out to touch his forearm. “I would do my very best to see that it’s so.” Her hand slid up his arm as she continued to gaze steadily into his face. “I would do my very best to please you, my lord.”
He wanted to lift her hand away, but unwilling to hurt her feelings more than he had to, he stepped back instead. “And I’m sure you’ll make a most excellent wife, Joscelind.”
For somebody else.
“It would be my greatest joy to see that my husband is always happy andcompletelysatisfied.Nothingwould be more important to me.”
He knew exactly what she was implying and he could well believe she would use every art at her disposal to please her husband. Yet the loving would be less about intimacy and desire than vying for power and control. After the wondrous, unselfish love Riona gave him, marriage to Joscelind seemed a cold and heartless trans-action.
Yet was that not what he’d sought in the beginning—a bargain? Would his marriage to Eleanor be any less of a trade?
Joscelind crept closer, smiling coyly. “I’m sure your wife would always be satisfied, too, my lord. Every woman dreams of such a strong, virile lover.”
“My lady,” he said not unkindly, but firmly, “I would appreciate it if you would go to the kitchen and see to the servants without further delay, or I fear the evening meal will never get served.”
“Oh, I’ll see that it is.”
He moved back. “I’m sure you will.”
She came to a halt far too close to him for comfort. “Are you really going to wait until Lammas to make your decision?”
He nodded. He would take all the time he could, because once he married, he would not be unfaithful to Eleanor. He honored the bonds of marriage too much for that, and he wouldn’t hurt Eleanor by taking a mistress.
And he thought, deep in his heart, that Riona would never betray her friend by being the woman with whom her husband committed adultery. Loving him before he made his vow before God and swore to be faithful to his wife was one thing; afterward was surely something else again.
“It’s very difficult to wait, my lord. And I do so worry that you’ll choose another.”
He didn’t think she really had any doubts at all that she would be his choice. She probably couldn’t conceive that any other woman would be more appealing or worthy. “I’m sure the women I don’t choose will have no trouble finding husbands. They each have much to offer.”
Joscelind got a gleam in her eye that set him on his guard. “Not Lady Riona. I confess it seems a mystery to me that she’s still here.”
Did Joscelind suspect…? “Lady Riona and her uncle are still here because they are Scots, my lady, and I don’t wish to cause any animosity among the rest of their countrymen by sending them away too soon.”
“I see,” Joscelind said, smiling. “They are here because of politics. I thought perhaps that little man amused you, like a sort of jester.”
Nicholas tried not to clench his jaw. “He is amusing,” he agreed. “And a very pleasant fellow.”
“For a Scot.”
