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Chapter Five
The next day, Shelene still admired her new wedding ring but suddenly removed it from her finger and placed the bauble in the black velvet box from which it came.
“You’ve grown tired of its beauty?” Roman asked. “And your vows?”
“No. I am reveling in my temporary euphoria.”
“Temporary?”
“A bride cannot be truly happy when her husband wishes to remain celibate for months on end. My euphoria ends each night when it is time to find my bed. My lonely, empty bed.”
“What has that got to do with your ring? Yourexpensivering?”
They sat in a private room, taking dinner. The loud dining area was closed off, leaving them alone. Their conversation had been light and pleasant and mostly about their days in Spain, when they were innocently and naively in love. Plus, there were a few tentative forays into what they would do once they returned to Spain. She wanted to ask about their time apart, about his adventures, about those things they had once whispered under the trees in the orchard.
“We are married now. The ring is only a symbol; my words to you are by far more important,” she said.
He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. “As mine are to you, but I would feel better if the ring remained upon your pretty finger.”
“I’m not seventeen anymore, Roman. As much as I love jewelry, I don’t think it wise to be wearing such a bauble around Nantes and on the ship. It will be safely hidden away until it is entirely safe to wear.”
He took her fingers, holding them lightly and brushing his thumb over her nails. “Shelene, I have an urgent task in the morning. I’ll be gone when you wake.”
She set aside her fork. “Does it have something to do with the note you received earlier?”
“It does.” Roman braced his elbows on the table.
“Your mistress?” she asked. Shelene fiddled with the lace fichu she wore around her neck and tucked demurely in her bodice. There was a round brooch with a lavender-colored stone in the middle, holding the edges together. She quickly opened it, unfastened the clip and set it on the table near her plate, fingering the smoothness of the stone as the conversation continued.
“Yes. She’s always been demanding.”
“Demanding? I would hate to speak poorly of the Crown’s minions.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
She laughed at the truth of his words. “Whatever the note said, why did you not pen a quick response telling Bathurst, or whoever,” she said with a wave of her hand, “that you are now married and have no time for their mischief?” She reached for the lace fichu and began a slow tug, easing it from her neck.
“If only it were so simple.”
She draped the lace over her lap and leaned forward. Would he even notice her breasts in light of the untimely missive? Was he so caught up in his past, he wouldn’t notice what she was offering? That which he should have already taken? A display of her body would surely entice him.
Persuading Roman to have intercourse should not be so difficult. And she hated to think of the real reasons why he insisted upon waiting.
He’d returned to his meal; she sipped at her wine.
“You are bothered?” He smiled tightly and didn’t look her in the eye until he was more composed—at least she thought so.
“Roman, you have no idea how happy it would make me, if once, just once, you would share with me. I have no one to spill your secrets too. I would hold them close to my heart.”
“Women aren’t meant to carry such burdens. Allow me to shoulder all the weight in our family.”
“If I didn’t know you so well, I would be gravely offended that you think so little of womankind. Especially a Spanish woman.”
“My blue blood exerts itself at the worst times. And you know, that I know, you are the one woman in all Britain’s dominion with a will forged in steel.”
“I am not sure that is a compliment.”
“It is. Of the highest order.” He gazed at her, a bit of devilry in his eyes.
