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“But—”
He turned, one hand still holding the dog that was biting him, and looked at her. His eyes were a deep blue now and held only a certainty of purpose; his face was more stern than she’d ever seen it, dark and lined and with no trace of amusement. It came to her that this must be what he looked like when he’d ridden into battle.
His voice was as cold as the North Sea. “Listen to me. You are my wife, and I’ll not see you hurt, even if it makes me your enemy. There can be no compromise in this matter.”
She swallowed and nodded.
He eyed her a moment more, seemingly oblivious to the blood dripping from his hand. Then he jerked a nod. “Good. Stand back and don’t interfere in what I do.”
She grasped her hands in front of herself so that she might not be tempted to snatch at Mouse. She adored the dog, even knowing he was an ill-tempered animal that no one else liked. Mouse was hers, and he returned her adoration. But Vale was her husband, and she could not contradict his authority—even if it meant sacrificing Mouse.
o;I never knew Emeline’s brother,” Melisande said. “Not well, at least. I only saw him once or twice. What was he like?”
He swallowed the last of his bun, trying to buy time. He thought of Reynaud’s crooked grin, his dark laughing eyes. “Reynaud always knew he would someday inherit the earldom, and he spent his life rehearsing for that day.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “As a boy, he was too serious. That burden of responsibility marks a man, even when he’s but a child. Richard was the same way.”
“Your elder brother,” she murmured.
“Yes. He and Reynaud were more alike.” His mouth twisted at the old realization. “Reynaud should’ve chosen him as a friend, not me.”
“But perhaps Reynaud saw in you something that he himself lacked.”
He cocked his head and smiled. The idea that he should possess a feature that Richard, his perfect elder brother, lacked seemed comical. “What?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Your joy of life?”
He stared at her. Did she really see joy of life in the shell that was all that remained of him? “Perhaps.”
“I think so. You were a friend full of delight and mischief,” she said, and then, almost to herself, “How could he resist you?”
“You don’t know that.” His teeth scraped together. “You don’t know me.”
“Don’t I?” She rose from the table. “I think you’d be surprised how much I know you. Ten minutes, then?”
“What?” He was caught flat-footed and blinking up at his wife like a fool.
She smiled. Maybe she had a love of fools. “I’ll be ready to go shopping in ten minutes.”
And she slipped from the breakfast room, leaving him confused and intrigued.
MELISANDE WAS STANDING by the carriage consulting with Suchlike when Vale emerged from the town house a short time later. He ran down the front steps and sauntered over.
“Are you ready?” Melisande asked.
He spread his arms. “I am at your disposal, my lady wife.” He nodded to Suchlike. “You may go.”
The little maid flushed and looked worriedly at Melisande. Suchl Klisheiike usually came on these outings to consult with wardrobe selections and to carry packages. Vale was watching her, too, waiting to see if she’d object.
Melisande smiled tightly and nodded at the maid. “Perhaps you can do that mending.”
Suchlike bobbed a curtsy and went into the town house.
When Melisande turned back to Vale, he was eyeing Mouse, who was standing against her skirts.
She spoke before he could dismiss her dog as well. “Sir Mouse always accompanies me.”
