The Prince's Bride (17 page)

“Yes!”

“I don’t take orders!” She flung the pitcher with all her strength.

He ducked behind the open door a split second before the pottery shattered against the wall barely a few feet from his head in a satisfying spray of water and white petals. There was something to be said for being able to see well enough to aim.

He glanced at the scattered roses and raised a brow. “Well, that’s the last time I accompany an apology with flowers.”

“Hah! There aren’t enough flowers in the world! Now get out!”

“Another order, my dear? You should know I’m not fond of them either. I’m leaving now only because that’s exactly what I had planned to do.” He smirked, backed out, and slammed the door.

She stared at the closed door wishing she had something, anything, to fling once again and struggled to slow her breathing to a more sedate rate.

That certainly hadn’t gone at all well. Not in the least what she’d had in mind. Why, at this very moment he was supposed to be sharing her bed doing all those lovely things to her she had grown quite fond of in recent days. And she should be doing equally lovely things to him in return.

She crossed her arms over her chest and paced. She did tend to think better on her feet. What, precisely had gone wrong? Nothing she could pinpoint on her part. It was his fault, all of it.

Of course, she had set out to make him jealous. And had, perhaps, paid a bit too much attention to Alexei in the process. Still, she’d made it a point to favor Nigel equally, although that had slipped Rand’s notice. There was the distinct possibility she’d gone a bit too far.

It was that question of trust that was disturbing. Of the two of them, Jocelyn would have thought she was the one who would be unwilling to trust. Her father hadn’t been the least bit reliable, and even her brother could not be depended on for much of her life, although ultimately he had made up for it. But hadn’t she trusted Rand right from the beginning?

For Rand, trust might well require a leap of faith. And love.

It was, no doubt, his secretive government background that made him so hesitant to trust her as completely as she trusted him. She’d not given him any reason to distrust her, at least not since their marriage. Oh, certainly she had once planned a private meeting with Alexei, but that seemed like a lifetime ago even if, in truth, it was little more than a week. She’d done nothing to betray Rand, nor did she intend to, even if, with Alexei’s presence, the opportunity might arrive. No, she was as content with her lot as Rand’s wife as he was with his position in life.

Perhaps she simply needed to make that clear to him, although, at the moment, he well deserved to stew in his own turbulent juices. A night apart would probably do him good.

He was undeniably jealous and that was exactly what she’d wanted. She’d simply never expected that jealousy on the part of a man went hand in hand with stupidity.

Her husband had quite a bit to learn about women in general and especially about his wife. He had to learn when to speak and when to keep his mouth shut. He had to learn to trust her. And he had to understand she never had, and never would take well to orders.

Well, he certainly told her!

Rand stalked through the wide corridor.

If he wished to issue orders, he would bloody well issue orders.
His position was perfectly understandable.

He stomped down the spiral stone stairs. That’s the way it would be. There would be no debate, no discussion. He was the husband. She was the wife.

And apparently he was sleeping by himself.

His step slowed with the awful realization that he was something of a fool. He groaned aloud. How could he have thought, even for a moment, that she would respond well to his issuance of orders. In point of fact he hadn’t thought. He’d simply opened his mouth and the most outrageous things flowed out.

Certainly he was well within his rights to insist that Jocelyn stay away from Alexei, but it wasn’t necessary to sound like an unyielding general commanding disobedient troops. He should have known she wouldn’t take it at all well. Who would?

He strode into the shadowed library and headed straight for the brandy decanter, aided by the light from the still-burning fire in the hearth.

What was it about the blasted woman that made him firmly put his foot in his mouth every time he was with her? She’d lull him into some sort of vulnerable state where all was going well and just when he’d relax enough not to watch every word, he’d say something absurd again. So far he’d called her shallow, accused her of lying, indicated he regretted their marriage, and now had approached her in a manner guaranteed to overset her.
What was wrong with him?

He tossed back two full glasses of brandy in quick succession, then poured another.

“Argue about Prince Alexei, did you?” Nigel’s amused voice came from a chair near the fireplace.

“It’s that obvious?”

Nigel snorted.

Rand started toward the chair opposite his uncle’s, pausing only long enough the grab the decanter. “She’s turned me into a complete and total idiot, Nigel.”

Nigel chuckled. “That does tend to happen.”

Rand collapsed into the chair. “What? Insanity? Is it a by-product, then, of marriage?”

“Not necessarily of marriage but”—Nigel paused— “perhaps of love.”

“Love? Hah,” Rand scoffed. “If this is love, I want no part of it. It’s driving me mad. She’s driving me mad.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his legs. “Tell me this, Uncle, am I a reasonable man? An intelligent person? Do I rely on logic and rational thinking to make decisions?”

“I have always thought so.”

“As have I, but apparently I’ve changed.” He sank back and drained his glass. “Whatever reason and good sense I might have previously possessed has vanished. Gone. Like that.” He tried to snap his fingers but oddly enough couldn’t quite manage. Instead he refilled his glass and sighed heavily. “It’s a pity.”

“What is?”

“I’ve been felled by a mere woman. She might as well have cut off my hair like, oh, who was that fellow?”

“Samson?”

“That’s him. He trusted a woman and look what happened to him.”

“Jocelyn has given you no reason to distrust her.”

“I have no reason to trust her either.” And wasn’t that a point in his favor? It did seem rational at the moment. “People have to earn trust. When you trust blindly, well, terrible things can happen. Battles can be lost. People can die.”

“This is not war, Rand,” Nigel said gently.

“It feels like war,” Rand muttered. “Different battlefield, that’s all.”

“I’m confident you can trust your wife.”

“Hah. She didn’t want to marry me, you know.” He lowered his voice in a confidential manner. “She wanted to marry
him.
She wanted to be a princess.” He smiled smugly. “I could make her a princess if I wanted. I don’t, but I could.”

“Tell me something, my boy, does Jocelyn trust you?”

“Of course,” he said indignantly, then raised his glass and grinned. “I saved her life.”

“And then you were forced to take any decision she might have made as to the
rest
of her life away from her,” Nigel said gently. “Not your fault, of course, but there it is. Still, she has not held that against you, has she?”

“No.”

“She has tried to make the best of it, has she not?”

“Yes.”

“Even to the point of being your wife in every sense of the word?”

“Yes.”

“And have you tried as well to be the husband she deserves?”

“Well...” Rand resisted the urge to squirm. Had he indeed made an effort to make their marriage work? Or had he simply let events unfold as they would?

Neither of them had had any choice initially. Marriage was the only option if he was to take her away and keep her safe. He hadn’t really considered until now what she’d been forced to give up.

Oh, not Alexei. Rand was confident Alexei’s intentions toward Jocelyn had never been especially honorable. But Jocelyn could have made a far better match than the sixth Viscount Beaumont.

Yet it didn’t appear she regretted it. No, she seemed to be making the best of their marriage. In those rare moments when he wasn’t drawing her annoyance, she seemed to be enjoying their newfound life together. She laughed a great deal and he rather liked the sound of it. In his rooms and in his bed. And she’d certainly scarcely hesitated to join him there.

“I don’t want to end this marriage, Nigel.” Even as he said the words, Rand realized they’d never been truer.

“Why?”

“Because I...”
Why?
That was the real question, wasn’t it? It wasn’t simply a matter of honor, although at this point he had, for all intents and purposes, ruined her. Nor was it any concern of scandal. Like it or not, scandal would definitely accompany any dissolution of their marriage. It had nothing to do with pride or responsibility.

“You what?” Nigel pressed.

Rand stared into his glass as if the answer were there, floating in the amber-colored liquid. The color of her eyes.

“
I
don’t want to give her up,” he said quietly. “Ever.”

“Because?”

“Because ...” He drew a deep breath and met his uncle’s gaze. “I don’t think I could live without her. I don’t want to live without her. Not a day, not a minute.” He shook his head. “She’s not at all what I first thought I wanted in a wife, yet with every day she is more and more exactly what I want. Or maybe what I need. I can see my life stretching out before me with her by my side and I like what I see.” He shrugged. “It’s all quite perplexing.”

“It’s love, my boy.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Let’s consider the facts here.” Nigel paused. “Do you find her confusing? Is it as if you are totally off-balance when it comes to her?”

“Yes.”

“You find yourself doing irrational things, making unreasonable demands? Behaving very much like a fool?”

Rand blew a long breath. “Without a doubt.”

“And do you want to challenge any man who so much as casts her a smile?” Nigel grinned. “Up to and including beloved uncles?”

“Not beloved uncles.” Rand laughed, then sobered. “But anyone else. Charming princes in particular.”

“Given all that, plus your admission that you want to spend the rest of your days with her”—Nigel chuckled— “it certainly sounds like love to me.”

Rand had considered the possibility, of course. But never having experienced the maddening emotion, it was not at all surprising he hadn’t recognized it. Of course he was in love. Or insane, which might well be the same thing.

Rand shook his head. “It’s not at all pleasant, is it?”

“It has its moments.”

“I can scarcely wait,” Rand murmured. He swirled his brandy and considered the intriguing way it coated the side of the glass. “What would you suggest I do about it?”

“Given the way you stormed in here, I suggest you do nothing more tonight. I would suspect she is little more pleased with you than you are with yourself at the moment. After that...” Nigel shrugged.

“After that is the question,” Rand said wryly.

“I see it’s time for the benefit of my vast years of experience. Very well then.” Nigel studied him for a long moment. “Give her the credit she deserves, Rand. See her for who she is, not who you thought she was. She’s not perfect, no woman is, but in truth she is a far cry from the spoiled, pampered debutante you originally believed her to be. She is both intelligent and courageous, and has shown a great deal of fortitude in making the best of her situation. Her life is radically different than her dreams yet, to my knowledge, she has not held that against you.”

Nigel shook his head. “You must have been born under a lucky star, boy. I don’t know how it happened, but in the odd unexplained ways of this world, you may well have stumbled upon the one woman who could make you truly happy.” The older man leaned toward him. “There are those who believe for every man there is just one woman. For every soul, one mate. Fated, one for the other. Destined to be together. I suspect Jocelyn may well be yours.”

Rand narrowed his eyes. “Why do you think that?”

Nigel grinned. “Because in the days since you’ve been here, there is a lightness in your step, a look in your eye, and an air of contentment, even happiness about you.”

“That’s absurd.” Rand laughed. “I haven’t felt the tiniest bit happy or content.”
Or had he?

“The confusion of love often tends to obscure the joy. At least in the beginning. It gets better, my boy.” Nigel chuckled and sank back in his chair. “Before my cache of sage wisdom is completely exhausted, let me tell you something else. I would wager my last penny your wife is in love with you as well.”

Rand brightened. “Do you think so?”

“I realize she’s not nearly as idiotic about it as you, but yes. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. For an old man, it’s rather enchanting to see that look in a woman’s eye again.” Nigel fell silent, and Rand knew his uncle was looking back through the years. To the look in the eye of another woman in love. At last he spoke, his voice quiet. “Let her know how you feel. Don’t lose her because she thinks you don’t care about her.”

“Then I should tell her?”

“Have you heard a word I’ve said?” Nigel huffed in annoyance. “It’s no good dispensing advice if no one listens.”

“Sorry,” Rand murmured.

“Now, pay attention. No self-respecting woman can love for long without being loved in return. You wouldn’t want the kind of woman who could. Whiny, clinging creatures. However it happened, you have found yourself a good woman. You’d be a fool not to make certain she knows exactly how you feel.

“You have the opportunity for the sort of happiness that is rare in this life.” Nigel aimed a firm finger at him. “Don’t muck it up.”