"What do you think?"
"I think you were," she whispered. "Now you can't go back to Normandy."
"No, I can't."
"Does that upset you?"
He smiled again. He rested his chin on the top of her head. Nicholaa sounded worried. "No."
"Well, why not?"
His sigh was long. "Do you want to argue?"
"No," she answered. "You should go back to Normandy, Royce. Was there a special lady waiting for your return?"
"It's a little late to be concerned about that possibility, isn't it?"
Her eyes got teary again. "I only just considered that possibility," she wailed. "Oh, God, I've ruined your life, haven't I?"
He hugged her. "No, you haven't ruined my life," he answered. "I didn't leave a woman behind in Normandy, Nicholaa."
She sagged against him. He concluded then that she was relieved by that news. "My family's there, of course," he told her. "My father's dead, but my mother's still alive. She's kept busy with my sisters and her grandchildren."
"Will I ever meet your family?"
"Perhaps," he answered.
He thought he'd soothed her sufficiently to return to his question as to why she'd been weeping and was just about to turn the topic back to that concern when she suddenly whispered, "You must go back to Normandy, Royce, if only for a nice long visit with your family."
The urgency in her tone wasn't lost on him. "And why is that?"
"You'll be safe there."
"I'm just as safe here."
Nicholaa decided to take a different approach. "I'd like to leave this place as soon as possible, husband. Could we go now? The moon is sufficient to show us the way home."
There was a note of desperation in her voice. Royce nudged her chin up so he could see her expression. One look told him she was terrified. "What happened?" he demanded.
"Nothing," she blurted out. "I just want to leave now."
She pushed his hand away from her chin and hid her face in the crook of his neck.
"Nicholaa? Are you so worried about my touching you that you've made yourself ill?"
"What are you talking about? You're touching me now, Royce."
"That isn't what I meant," he said. "When I bed you
He never got to finish. Her head came up with a start. Good God, she hadn't even thought about that. Leave it to him to add another worry to her growing list.
"You can't expect me to sleep with you that way," she blurted out. "I haven't even had time to think about that possibility. No, you can't expect-"
"I do expect," he interrupted.
She stared into his eyes. He looked as if he meant what he said. Her face lost its color, and her heart started racing. Nicholaa burst into tears again.
Royce controlled his exasperation. He decided he shouldn't have mentioned that topic. When the time came to bed her, he'd do just that, but he wouldn't give her time to let her fear catch hold of her.
"Nicholaa, do you trust me?"
She didn't even think about it before answering. "Yes."
"And you're not afraid of me?"
"No."
"Fine," he whispered. "Then tell me why you're upset."
"My hands and arms are burning something fierce," she muttered. "I'm in agony with all my worries. Royce, I'm in no condition to let you touch me."
"Let me?" He sounded more surprised than angry over her poor choice of words.
"You know my meaning," she cried out. "Have you no sympathy?"
He shrugged. She guessed that he didn't.
If she hadn't been so busy trying to think of a plan to keep the man alive, she surely would have had time to think of a way to discourage him from exercising his husbandly rights.
She fell back against him again. "I don't hate you, Royce, but at times I do dislike you."
He hugged her tight. Long minutes passed in silence. He was patiently waiting for her to calm down. He thought about how soft she was, how feminine her scent was, and how much he liked holding her in his arms.
She thought about the evil look on the woman's face when she relayed her message.
Royce felt her shiver in his arms. He tightened his hold. The candlelight flickered, drawing his attention. He saw the dagger on the chest, then frowned in reaction. He'd left specific instructions the evening before that all weapons were to be removed from the chamber. Although he was certain that Nicholaa didn't have it in her nature to kill anyone, she could do a fair amount of damage in an attempt to escape.
He smiled then. He was certain that if she had injured one of his soldiers, she'd be sure to apologize afterward.
The woman was still a puzzle to him, but he was beginning to understand a few of her quirks.
"Nicholaa? Do you still think to escape?"
"I'm a married woman now."
"And?" he prodded when she didn't continue.
She let out a sigh. "If I escaped, you'd have to come with me."
Nicholaa was just realizing her remark was absurd when he said, "Where did the dagger come from?"
She tensed against him. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do," he answered. "Don't lie to me, Nicholaa."
She didn't say another word for a long while. "It's a long story," she finally whispered. "Surely you don't wish to hear it now."
"Yes, I do wish to hear it now."
"An old woman gave me the dagger."
"When?"
"Tonight. I don't want to talk about it," she cried out. "I just want you to take me away from here tonight. Please, Royce?"
He acted as though he hadn't even heard her plea. "Why did she give you the dagger?"
She was going to have to tell him everything. He wasn't going to let up. Besides, she reasoned, she needed his help with this worry, and God only knew he needed her warning. "She said I'm supposed to kill you with it."
She waited a long while for Royce to react to her announcement before she realized he wasn't going to say anything. Didn't he believe her?
"I'm not jesting," she whispered. "I'm really supposed to kill you."
"How?" he asked, sounding incredulous. "You can't even hold a dagger in your hands."
"I mentioned that very problem to the messenger," she muttered. "I was told to find a way. The more you doubt my word, Royce, the more convinced I am that it wouldn't be too difficult."
"Nicholaa, you couldn't kill me." He sounded pleased with that evaluation. He gently brushed the hair away from her temple. It felt like a caress from a husband who cared about his wife.
God, she was tired. Surely that was the reason her eyes clouded with tears again. "Just when I was beginning to think the war was finally over and we could all live in peace together, this had to happen."
"The war is over," he said. "You're worrying over nothing."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to," she cried out. "I have proof, husband."
"Do you mean the dagger?"
"No," she answered. "My proof will arrive at dawn. Three men are coming. If I haven't killed you by then, they're going to kill both of us. Then you'll know I was telling you the truth."
He leaned down and kissed her brow. "You really are telling me the truth, aren't you?"
"How could you believe I'd make up something this vile?"
She moved away from his shoulder so she could glare at him. She was surprised to see how furious he was, for his voice had been mild when he spoke to her. She lost her frown immediately and nodded with satisfaction. It was high time the man showed a proper reaction.
Lord, she was relieved, too. His anger actually comforted her. He would know what to do. He'd take care of this threat. She snuggled up against him and let out a loud, unladylike yawn. "Now do you see why I thought we should leave tonight?"
"Nicholaa, I want you to start at the beginning," he ordered. "Tell me exactly what happened."
She didn't argue with him. When she finished her explanation, he was squeezing her hard around her waist. He was frowning like a devil, too. The scar on his face had turned stark white again. He looked like a warrior now, even though he wasn't dressed in battle gear.