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“I doubt that,” he said with a chuckle, but then he grew serious. “I will speak with her and Gideon tomorrow and give my apologies.”
With that, Edel inclined her head and headed for the door. Belinda followed, giving June a bit of stink-eye as she passed.
When they were alone, Tristan gazed down at her warily. “How are you? Should I not have announced it like that?”
“You could have given me a little warning first.”
Again, he scrubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I guess I was a little too excited.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Well, lucky for you, that is a very good thing.”
“Does that mean you have an answer for me?” he prodded.
She went on her toes to lay a soft kiss on his lips. “Like your mother said, it’s good to make you wait.”
He gave a cocky grin as though he had no doubt of her answer. Then his eyes turned molten as he gazed down at her. “As long as you stay with me, I’ll wait forever.”
Ka-plow.There went her heart.
He might as well have just snatched it right out of her chest and claimed it as his own.
22
Over the next several weeks, June became acquainted with royal life. Since Tristan insisted on moving her into his chambers,discretionanddecorumwere next to impossible and rumor quickly spread of the king’s foreign mistress. At first, she only knew this because Orik and a few other castle employees reported to Tristan whatever might be of concern to the crown. Then one day Tristan had taken her on a carriage tour of the kingdom. They’d passed quaint cottages, bustling markets, and impressive estates that resembled the stylish English country mansions back on Earth. The kind inhabited by dukes and earls. It was all very lovely, but whenever they came to a crowded area, people paused to gawk at her and whisper to each other.
June wasn’t used to standing out in a crowd, and the attention was uncomfortable. But it wasn’t insufferable. It was like wearing a pair of pants that were a size too small. She could deal with it for a time, as long as the promise of peeling them off at the end of the day was there. Especially if Tristan was the one doing the peeling.
He spent every evening with her, showing her how much he loved her. Making her putty in his hands and nearly pulling an answer out if her—the answer he wanted.
Would she marry him? Should she?
So much of her wanted to. So much of her wanted to believe in this fairytale life that was being offered to her, but she was apprehensive about something and she couldn’t put her finger on it. Tristan had asked her if she could imagine a better life for herself. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe some part of her simply felt she didn’t deserve it.
But hadn’t her mother deserved better?
Didn’t Thaddeus and his mother?
The scoundrel who’d harmed them had been sentenced to death. At first, even June thought that was extreme, but then a more thorough examination of Thaddeus and his mother, the evidence of scars and blunt force trauma up and down their bodies, made her want to end his life with her bare hands. Anyone who could do that to their loved ones did not belong with the living.
Anyone who could do that to their loved ones was a monster in disguise.
Would Thaddeus and his mother’s scars heal better than hers? Would they learn to trust again? To trust in love? To trust in family?
Perhaps.
Only time would tell. And they had a lot to spare. More than June did. They would have a very, very long life to heal.
Already June’s life was a third of the way over….
She tried not to think about that, to block out the concern, but it was always there, in the back of her mind, planted there like a weed, roots so deep there was no hope of digging them out. Bottom line was her lifespan was laughable compared to Tristan’s. If people gawked and whispered about her now, what would they think of the old lady next to their still young and virile king?
Whenever her stomach twisted at the thought, she’d have to make some excuse to Tristan, because he always noticed her discomfort, as if he was growing more in tune with her each day. He’d even taken to picking out her thoughts as if she’d spoken aloud. For example, when they’d toured the kingdom and come upon a particularly beautiful patch of grassland, she’d been remembering their picnic when he had leaned over to murmur in her ear that they would have to return to their meadow soon. That had sent a shiver along her skin and shifted her thoughts to other things than her pesky mortality.
Nights with Tristan were sinfully sublime. She almost wanted to pinch herself just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. It could very well be that this was just a very vivid, very elaborate dream, and once she woke up, she’d forget it all before her morning coffee. Whenever she thought this, Tristan would do something so mundane, so ordinary, inadvertently reminding her just how real he was. Like right now. He was snoring.
She watched him sleep, his mouth slightly parted, his hand resting on his bare chest, rising and falling with each breath. He was beautiful. How could something so simple as watching him slumber give her so much pleasure?
She rested her head on his chest to listen to the soft thudding melody of his heart.Thud, thud, thud.Such a glorious sound.
