Damask & Deception (Spellbound #2)

Chapter 17: Win or Lose

Baudwin stood before the door to his wife's bedchamber, unsure of what he would find once inside. Rhiannon had looked so miserable during their wedding and the celebrities he worried she might cry. While it seemed quite out of character for her, today she had been more despondent than usual. And Baudwin was useless with crying women. He never knew whether to leave them alone or gently pat them on their backs and offer comfort. Probably the latter. Though the first sounded more appealing.

Reminding himself that he was the bloody king and a damn war hero who shouldn't fear a crying woman, he steeled himself and knocked. When there was no answer, he knocked again. Had she had enough of this farce and fled? With a rush of sudden panic, he opened the door and burst inside, only to feel like a fool when he found her standing by the window, looking out over the garden, her back to him.

She didn't even acknowledge his arrival. Well, this was a perfect start to their wedding night.

Leaning on his cane, he watched her for a moment. His wife. It didn't seem real. Probably because it wasn't. She had made him promise that this would be a marriage in name only. At least for now. She looked smaller and more fragile than he remembered, her shape illuminated by the many candles lit in the room, a stark contrast to the darkness outside. Her golden-red hair hung loose down her back, reaching all the way down below her waist. In the flickering light of the candles it appeared like spun gold, or the last glowing embers of sunlight on an autumn's night. Tendrils of fading sun that you could shift between your fingers.

"Rhiannon?" He put the package he'd brought on the bed and took a step towards her.

"I had forgotten how dark the evenings are up north." Her voice was quiet, contemplative. "In the swamps it doesn't get quite this dark. Definitely not until much later."

Coming up to stand behind her, Baudwin looked out the window. They were above the castle gardens, and lights carried by citizens still celebrating flitted around like fireflies between the hedges and flowerbeds. Beyond the castle grounds and the city sprawling beneath was only darkness, silhouettes of the forest against the night sky. Stars twinkled as if congratulating him on his nuptials, while a new moon offered hope of a new beginning.

"Do you miss it?" he asked. "The swamp?"

She turned her head slightly to look at him, and for a moment appeared surprised to find him so close. Their bodies were nearly touching, but he knew better than to brush up against her. She'd made it very clear she didn't want to be touched by him. If only his body would take the hint. He cursed the reaction he had even just standing behind her, ashamed to find he had no power over it. Her hair was still slightly damp, and there was a tantalising hint of bergamot and pine clinging to her.

"Sometimes."

It took him a moment to remember the question she was answering, his mind preoccupied with the intoxicating smell of her and resisting the memory of how she had felt in his arms.

"It was never quite home," she admitted. "But I liked it there."

"Where would you say home is?"

Taking a few steps back from her, he watched her profile as she stared out the window, a slight frown creasing her brow. He wished he could make it go away. He wished he could make everything better.

Eventually, she lifted one shoulder in a barely perceptible shrug, but it made her green dressing gown fall down her arm, revealing a pale shoulder and the thin strap of what must be her nightdress. Baudwin swallowed. From what little he could see, it was made of sheer silk and had she not had the dressing gown, he suspected it would have left little to the imagination. Despite his best efforts otherwise, his eyes followed the tantalising strap of fabric over her shoulder until it disappeared underneath the dressing gown on her back.