If she simply stayed in the country she would never have to see him again. Viscount Rohan was notoriously unmoved by the countryside, avoiding it at all costs. If she could just convince Lina to remove to her Dorset estate then soon or later Rohan would go abroad, and maybe he'd fall off a mountain or marry a Chinese princess or be eaten by a tiger.
Anne StuartHe needed to keep as far away from her as possible, or they'd end up back in bed together or she'd kill him. And he wasn't sure which he preferred.
Anne StuartYou've been pinning for him these last three years, God knows why. Admittedly he's gorgeous, but you're hardly the type to be overset by simple beauty. Why?"
Because he has sad eyes, she could have said. Because he tries so very hard to be bad, to be mean, to be cruel, and all you have to do is look past the studied ennui to see a hurt little boy trying to emerge. And yes, because he's bloody gorgeous.
I thought you were the docile one," he murmured.
"Yes, my lord," she said meekly. "Compared to my sister, my lord."
"And you're the smart one as well? Even though you were going to put horse dung on an infect wound?"
"Yes, my lord." She straightened her shoulders. "And the plain one."
His eyes were like a sly weapon, all soft, lingering caresses while he stood just out of reach. "I think you're a fraud, Lady Alys. You've yet to convince me of any of those three things.
Obviously the household of Richard the Fair was unused to hearing the magician laugh. Even Richard himself stopped pawing his willing partner to stare at Simon of Navarre. "Something amuses you, my Grendel?" he demanded.
"You have been gracious enough to gift me with a clever wife," Simon said.
"A clever woman is a curse," Richard said flatly, eyeing Alys with profound distrust. "Change your mind, my friend. Choose the pretty one."
"My lord," said Simon, "I did.
He would die at her hands. He knew it, with sudden lightening clarity. The man he had struggled so hard to become, the all-powerful, all-knowing Simon of Navarre, would be destroyed by a woman's heart.
Anne StuartHe was lost, captured by an innocent, destroyed by a would-be nun, and there was no way the monster, Simon of Navarre, Richard the Fair's Grendel, would ever be the same.
Anne Stuart...and then she was lying naked beneath the rain and the storm, the angry heavens and Simon of Navarre's golden eyes.
Anne StuartWhat are you doing, Alys?" He'd turned to watch her, and his expression was disbelieving.
She'd emerged from the winding staircase to stand in the open, but she hadn't yet been able to make her feet move further. "Facing my fears," she said in a wobbly voice.
"Courting death?"
"Are you going to kill me?"
"The lightning might."
"Are you you going to kill me?" she persisted, flinching when the thunder rumbled again.
"Would you ride a horse for me?" he countered.
"Yes."
"Would you walk across this parapet to come to me?"
"Yes." And shes started forward, shivering as the rain lashed down around them.
She halted just out of reach, lifting her head and throwing back her shoulders with quiet determination.
"Would you come to me?" she asked him.
"Yes," he said. And he crossed the last few feet of the parapet and pulled her into his arms, kissing her mouth.
My love," he said with great patience, "you're hair is a rat's nest. Your eyes are swollen from weeping, your nose is red, your clothing is tattered, and you face is streaked with mud. You are still beyond passing fair, but not enough to tempt my immortal soul." He wiped a patch of mud from her delicate cheekbone. "I love you because you have a fierce heart, a brave soul, a tender touch, and woman's grace. I love you for a thousand reasons that I cant even begin to understand, when I didn't want to love you at all. I love your mind and your heart and soul, and yes, I love your pretty face as well.
Anne StuartTag: thomas
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