“Good morning.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see Kristine standing in the doorway, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. “You’re up early, wife.”
“So are you.”
He made a vague gesture with his hand. They both knew why he had left her bed; there was no need to fabricate a lie. “We should go back. Our guests will be preparing to leave soon.”
She nodded in agreement, but didn’t move.
Slowly, he walked toward her. “Thank you for last night,” he said, and watched her cheeks bloom with color.
“Thank you,” she replied with a saucy grin. “Won’t you kiss me good morning?”
He smiled indulgently, then kissed her, long and hard. “Go get dressed.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Go,” he said. “Mrs. Grainger is fixing breakfast. I smell ham and eggs cooking.”
“You do not!” Kristine exclaimed, but the mention of food made her stomach growl, and she realized she was ravenous.
He sniffed the air. “And fresh-baked scones with honey butter.”
“All right, I’m going,” she said. “And there had better be scones when we get there.”
It was late afternoon by the time the last of the guests took their leave. As Erik had expected, their absence the night before had not been noticed.
Now he and Kristine were sitting at the dining room table, nibbling on bread and cheese. Erik picked up his glass and sipped his wine. It was an excellent vintage, he mused, and added it to the list of enjoyments he would miss.
Leaning back in his chair, Erik regarded Kristine over the rim of his wineglass. “I should say your first soiree was a huge success.”
“It was fun, wasn’t it?” Kristine mused with a smile. “We shall have to have another soon.”
Erik nodded, knowing that he would not be present the next time. He took a deep breath as a sharp twinge ran the length of his right arm. He clenched his hand. The curse was spreading.
Placing his glass on the table, he stood abruptly.
Kristine frowned as wine splashed over the white cloth. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I’ll see you this evening.”
“Erik? Erik!” She turned in her chair, watching as he rushed out of the room.
Kristine sat at her dressing table, her head bowed over her diary.
Our first ball was a huge success. What fun, to be able to spend however much money I wish, to be able to order gowns and flowers, to entertain our neighbors in grand style. In truth, I had thought they might refuse, for Mrs. Grainger told me it has been several years since my lord husband has welcomed visitors to Hawksbridge Castle.
Lord Hoxford was most attentive throughout the evening. He is a handsome young man, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He is tall, though not so tall as my Erik . . . my Erik . . . He kissed me in the gardens, and then we went to the little cottage I found the other day. For the first time, he told me something of his past, his childhood.
Imagine my surprise when I learned he’d had a brother! No one has ever mentioned him. Erik told me he had once thought to enter the priesthood. I cannot imagine my lord Erik in a monastery, cannot imagine my life without my strange husband. I wonder if I will ever see what lies behind his mask, if he will ever come to trust me enough, or love me, as I have grown to love him. As I love our unborn child. I pray it will be a strong, healthy boy, with Erik’s beautiful dark eyes. . ..
She paused, rereading what she had written. “My strange husband,” she murmured. Why had he left the parlor so abruptly this afternoon? Where had he gone? She had not missed the look of torment, of pain, in his eyes. He had told her before he was often in pain. Was he hiding some dreadful illness from her, some fatal malady?
Fear clutched at her heart at the thought of losing him.
Slipping the book back in the drawer of her dresser, she left her chamber in search of her husband, but he was nowhere to be found.
At loose ends, she wandered down to the stable to visit Misty. She was currying the mare when Erik rode up.
The stallion was breathing heavily, its sides covered with foamy yellow lather, its legs smeared with mud.
Kristine smiled tentatively as Erik swung out of the saddle and patted the horse on the neck.
“Cool him out,” he said as he passed the stallion’s reins to Brandt. “And give him an extra ration of oats.”
“Yes, my lord,” Brandt said. With a polite nod in Kristine’s direction, the boy led the horse away.
“Did you have a good ride, my lord husband?” Kristine asked.
Erik nodded curtly. He had ridden long and hard and, for a short while, he had forgotten everything but the sheer joy of racing across the meadow. Once the stallion had lost its footing and Erik had wondered, even as he pulled up on the reins, if it wouldn’t be better for all concerned if he took a fall and broke his neck.
“I would have gone with you,” Kristine remarked quietly.
“Next time,” Erik replied. He brushed a kiss across her cheek. “I shall see you at dinner.”
He was silent and withdrawn at the dinner table that night. She didn’t know how or why, but she felt that he was withdrawing from her, erecting a wall between them. He had not said whether he planned to continue sharing her bed, and she couldn’t summon the courage to ask. She felt his furtive gaze often during the meal, noticed that he ate nothing, though he drank several glasses of wine.
As was their wont, they went into the library after dinner. Erik perused the day’s accounts while she sat in her favorite chair, frowning over a bit of embroidery. It was busywork, nothing more, she thought glumly, and then smiled.
“Erik?”
“Hmm?”
“I’ll be needing some material, you know, to make things for the baby.”
He grunted softly. “Make a list of what you want. I will send Leyla to fetch them in the morning.” He looked up. “You will be needing some material for yourself, too, I should imagine.”
Kristine rested a hand over her belly, imagining how it would look in a few months’ time. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“Purchase whatever you need. Whatever you want.”
“Thank you, my lord. You are most generous.”
His gaze met hers, his eyes dark with an emotion she could not name and then, before she could do more than wonder what was troubling him so, he turned away so she could not see his eyes. Something was bothering him, she knew it in the deepest part of her, but what?