Page 21 of Ella’s Desire

She backed up, eager to get far from the stable where the man who had rejected her spoke with the man who refused to reject her.

“Lady Ella.” Calville leaned to see her easier and offered a wide smile. “I was just seeking advice on Wolf here and have discovered she’ll be having pups soon.” He indicated the hunting dog, laying in a pile of hay.

Ella’s gaze wandered to Peter who nodded at her in greeting. As though nothing had ever happened. As though she hadn’t sauntered into the stable in a dress as red as sin and asked him to deflower her. Her cheeks went hot.

Calville was talking still about the dog. She returned her attention to him.

“Would that please you?” Calville asked her. “To take one of her pups? As a wedding present.”

The harrier lay in a slant of sunshine with motes dancing about her like fairies. Her velvety brown ears hung over her white and brown spotted face. Ella bent to stroke the weary dog and found her fur to be silky. Wolf lifted her head at once, her eyes bright and eager for attention. Her pups would undoubtedly have loose brown and white fur, floppy ears and sharp little needle teeth. How could Ella possibly turn down such a wonderful gift?

She grinned up at Calville. “I’d be honored to have one of her pups. Thank you.”

“Then you may have first pick.” He held out an arm to her. “Will you walk about the orchard with me?”

“Aye, of course.” Ella slid her hand to the warm crook of his elbow.

He gave a short whistle. “Come, Wolf.”

The dog leapt up despite the roundness to her belly and trotted over to them. Together they left the stables and Ella forced herself not to look back at Peter.

“Thank you.” Ella kept her gaze forward as they left the courtyard and headed in the direction of the orchard.

“Wolf’s pups will be fine beasts,” Calville said with apparent pride in his tone. “If you enjoy dogs, I will give you a small army of them.”

Ella laughed. “I prefer the animals I find in the forest to heal, generally. I was actually thanking you for the extra time.” She bit her lip. “Before our wedding.”

He was silent a moment. “It means a great deal to me that my stepmother and sister be here. I think it will do them much good to get away from Berkley Manor.”

It was the first time he’d offered any indication at his own hesitation for their wedding. Mayhap he had doubts too, that he did not wish to marry either. If so, he was handling it far better than she. A man set on doing his duty while she balked against responsibility.

“Do you wish to marry me?” she asked.

His smooth gait faltered. “I beg your pardon.”

Ella stopped walking and turned to face him. “Do you truly want to marry me?” She repeated the question and hated the way her insides clenched in anticipation for his answer.

Bronson detected no malice in Ella’s question, nor hurt or excitement or any other emotion. Regardless of her apathetic delivery, he considered for a moment to offer a delicate reply.

“I did not wish to marry when I was first given the news,” he replied carefully. “Yet now that I have met you, I think I should like to know you more.”

She tilted her head and studied him as though trying to read through the diplomatic response. “What do you want to know about me?”

He lifted his shoulder and tried to act as though he didn’t care. “Whatever I can find out in a fortnight, I suppose.”

“What do you want from a wife?” Ella asked. “From me?”

Honestly, when offer for the marriage had been pushed upon him, he’d been eager to get his new wife with child so he might leave her at Berkley Manor with Brigid and Lark while he continued on with his life at court. As most men did.

Except that was not a heroic answer, not like the men from one of Ella’s books. The proof of its lack of heroism was evident in the lives Brigid and Lark had led. The very idea made his muscles tense, with anger, and with betrayal. For all his life, his father had told him to care for women, to see their needs met, to be a man.

And in all those years, his father had lied. They had jaunted about on hunts, at court, at parties. Together, they had lived in the silk-lined lap of luxury while Brigid and Lark endured the torture of poverty.

“My lord?” Ella squeezed her hand on his arm gently. “Is it such a horrid answer that you hesitate to put it to voice?”

He chuckled. “Nay, ‘tis nothing so grave. I am unsure what I want from you, Lady Ella. I know only that I wish to be a better man than my father.”

Her brows pinched together, but before she could open her mouth with a question, he spoke. “And what do you want from me as a husband, Lady Ella?”