“It should,” she insisted. “I would serve no purpose as a wife to any man. I have no wealth, no lands, no title to confer, and I can never bear a child again. And that is putting aside my affliction! I’m useless. In truth, a nunnery is the best place for me.”
“The best place for you is with me,” Rafe said. “Hear my argument, love. I don’t care that you don’t bring wealth or a title or lands. I have what I need of those. I don’t care that you cannot bear children.”
“But what worth am I to you—”
“Angelet, you’re more than a vessel. Any man who thinks that is a woman’s sole value doesn’t deserve to have a woman anywhere near him.”
He cupped her face in his hands when she tried to turn away. “Listen. Children are never guaranteed from any union, and does that make a marriage any less true? No. I need you, Angelet. I need you with me. I need to hear your voice in the morning, and see you smile at me—or yell at me, when I deserve it, and I assure you I will.”
“You want a wife who yells at you?” she asked, starting to feel a crack in her misery.
“I want a wife who knows me, not some name picked by the king’s council for reasons of their own. You know me better than anyone. You know my past, and how I’ve failed. You know how far I need to go to be worthy of the name I’ve just found for myself. You know all my worst traits, and for some reason you still think well of me.”
Angelet sighed, tucking her head under Rafe’s chin. She gathered the fabric of his tunic and bunched it up in her hands, clinging to him. “How could I think otherwise? You saved me.”
“I barely got you away from that whole mess in time, angel. If I’d been paying attention, those thieves never would have got the drop on us, and—”
“Oh, Rafe, I don’t mean the attack, though you’ve saved me over and over while we were traveling. I mean you saved me from despair. I was heartsick when you met me. I thought I had lost everything in my life, and I was nothing more than a nuisance, in everyone’s way. I was lonely and despised and isolated. Then you rode into the courtyard of Dryton, and it was as if the sun broke through the clouds. You spoke to me as if I mattered. You defended me when you barely knew my name. You protected me when there was nothing in it for you.”
“Notnothing,” he said in a low voice. “I had a goal.”
“To seduce me. So you did, but I like to think I seduced you too.”
“Very true.”
“And you never sought to profit from it, when you thought I was wealthy—wrangle me into a quick marriage or blackmail me or sell me off.”
“I hadn’t thought beyond those few nights,” he said. “I knew I’d never get to keep you, so I tried not to dream of the future. Angelet, do you know the first thing I thought when I learned I wasn’t some nameless bastard?”
“What?”
“I thoughtThank God, now I can ask her to be mine. I had some standing, some leverage. After an entire life of owning nothing more than my sword and armor and horse, now I’m somebody.”
“You were always Rafe to me.”
“I’d like to be more. If you accept me. Please. I want you as my wife, and if it’s not you, then it will be no one.”
Angelet took a deep breath. “Oh. Well. I don’t want you to be alone.”
He smiled at last. “So you’ll take pity on me?”
“I’ll marry you. We can decide who deserves pity later on.”
Rafe captured her mouth for a kiss. “No one will say the word pity about our marriage, love.”
Rafe was so new in the good graces of the king that they dared not risk his wrath. Rafe put his request to marry Angelet before the king himself.
Stephen frowned. “Dear Lord, how changeable you both are!”
“Not changeable, your grace,” Angelet said quickly. “Our hearts have both wanted this, but misunderstandings made it seem impossible. But those misunderstandings are now swept aside. No offense was meant.”
His expression softened as he looked at Angelet. “I suppose this whole affair has been less than simple.” Then he shifted in his chair. “But by God, I’ll make the ending simple. If you both now want marriage, then you will be married…on the morrow. No more delays, no more prevarications, no more wishes for the cloistered life, no more misunderstandings. Do I make myself clear?”
Rafe nodded. “Yes, your grace.”
“After morning mass at the Holy Sepulchre. I will have a man in attendance to report that it is done. And henceforth, I expect nothing but simple, quiet, encouraging reports from Martenkeep, Sir Rafe. You will take on your first batch of trainees by the end of summer, and you will send to my armies the finest squires you can.”
“That is my goal, your grace.”
