have been sitting there acting so thoroughly interested in his every word if she didn't care just a little. She was behaving the way her mother used to behave, she realized. Papa loved to retell the same old tired stories again and again and her mother had pretended to be vastly amused each and every time he'd finished.
Royce liked to lecture her. And now she was pretending to be vastly interested. The traditions were continuing. A warm feeling filled her. Her mother would be proud of her, for just as she'd protected her husband's feelings, Nicholaa was trying to protect Royce's.
'And so, wife, I believe it would be a good idea for you to outline for me the duties you plan to undertake each day,' Royce concluded. 'It's yet another way we will be able to achieve order in our daily lives.'
'Do you mean to say you want me to stand before you every morning and tell you what I plan to do that day?'
'Yes.'
Her eyes widened in surprise. 'But you aren't leaving any room for surprises, husband,' she pointed out.
He looked appalled. 'No, of course not. For God's sake, Nicholaa, haven't you heard a word I've said?' She guessed he'd already covered the topic of spontaneous actions. She didn't dare smile. 'Oh, yes,' she rushed out, trying to placate him. 'I've learned quite a lot. I just wasn't certain how you felt about… surprises.'
The excuse sounded pitifully lame to her, but Royce looked appeased. She did smile then. 'Are you almost finished? It's getting late, and Clarise promised to have a bath ready for me before bed this evening. I don't want the water to get cold.'
He gave her permission to leave. Her legs were stiff when she walked to the entrance. Lord, how long had she been sitting there?
She turned to say good night to Royce and noticed he was replacing the chess set on the mantel. She waited until he turned around. 'Good night, Royce.'
He looked at her for a long minute. 'You're sleeping with me tonight.'
The harshness in his voice didn't leave room for argument, but it didn't frighten her either. Nay, he was only letting her know he was determined.
But then, so was she. It was time their marriage became real in every sense. It didn't matter that she was a little afraid. In her heart she knew Royce wouldn't hurt her.
The servants had placed a wooden tub in her chamber. Nicholaa took a long bath, all the while reminding herself that everything would be all right. She was even able to smile when she realized she was lecturing herself.
Clarise hovered about, acting like a substitute mother, but once the servant believed Nicholaa understood exactly what was going to happen, she let the embarrassing topic drop.
Nicholaa hadn't told Clarise the full truth, however. She had only learned bits and pieces of information over the years about the marriage act. Her mother had only spoken in generalities, too.
Still, Royce would know what to do… if she ever gathered enough courage to leave her room and go to his, she thought to herself.
Clarise finished brushing her hair, then helped her put on her robe. 'I don't believe he bedded you proper last night,' the servant whispered. 'You would have felt a bit of tenderness if he had.'
Nicholaa nodded. 'I don't believe he touched me,' she whispered back. 'It wouldn't have been honorable. I'm starting to understand how my husband's mind works, you see. He wouldn't have touched me when I was in such a… vulnerable condition.'
Nicholaa tied the belt of her robe. She wore a white cotton sleeping gown underneath. She'd started to put on a heavy chemise first, but Clarise told her that wouldn't do.
The walk from her chamber to his took forever. She didn't hesitate, though. She opened the door and hurried inside.
Royce was kneeling in front of the hearth. He was barefoot, bare-chested, too. The display of muscles across his broad shoulders was impressive when he lifted a fat log and added it to the fire.
She stood there watching him for a long minute. She said a prayer of thanksgiving that he still had his pants on. She didn't want to start the night blushing. Royce would notice.
When she felt a draft around her ankles, she closed the door, then turned around to find Royce leaning against the mantel, staring at her.
She tried to smile.
He didn't smile back. 'What are you thinking about, husband?' she asked, worrying over his dark, almost brooding expression.
'I was thinking that I'm married to a very beautiful woman.'
Her heart started in pounding. 'Thank you,' she replied. She took a step forward. 'Do you know, I believe that's the very first compliment you've ever given me.'
He shook his head. 'No, there was one other.'
'There was?'
'I told you I thought you were cunning when you disguised yourself as a nun. Don't you remember? It was when we met again at the abbey.'
She smiled. 'I do remember, but I didn't consider that comment a compliment.'
'Why not? It was more substantial than my comment about your appearance.'
She was thoroughly confused. 'Why was it more substantial?'
'A woman can't do anything about her appearance,' he said. 'Either she's pretty or she isn't. But her character is quite another matter. Now do you understand?'
'I understand you're trying to confuse me,' she announced. 'And I'm still pleased you find me attractive. It doesn't matter which compliment has more substance.'
She was also pleased that her voice wasn't shaky. Her legs were. She didn't want Royce to know she was a little afraid and very embarrassed about what was going to happen. She was his wife now, not some silly little chit. Why, she didn't even think she was blushing now.
Her face was as red as fire. Royce let out a long sigh. Nicholaa was desperately trying to hide her fear from him, but even from across the room he could see how her shoulders trembled. She was wringing the belt of her robe into knots, another telling indication she was frightened.
'Should I latch the door?' she asked.
'Yes.'
She nodded. She kicked off her shoes and walked over to the bed, forgetting in her haste that the door was still unlocked.
Nicholaa stopped, suddenly so nervous she couldn't stop rambling. 'A compliment about one's nature is more important because a person has to choose how to behave, whilst a compliment about one's appearance doesn't mean overly much because there is no choice involved there. You didn't bed me last night, did you?'
It took him a minute to make the switch in topics. 'No, I didn't bed you last night.'
She turned her attention to taking her robe off. 'I knew you hadn't,' she whispered. 'Still, I needed to ask.'
She folded the robe just so, then placed it on the foot of the bed.
'Do you want me to get under the covers now?'
'Do you want to?'
She looked down at the bed, then up at Royce, then back to the bed again. A frown marred her brow. Royce thought she acted as though he'd just asked her to solve all the problems of the world.
'I don't believe I want to get into bed just yet,' she finally answered.
'Then don't.'
She turned to frown at him. 'Why are you being so agreeable?'
He grinned. 'I was told I could catch more vermin with sweet than with sour.'
'Who would say such a ridiculous thing?'
'You said it,' he answered. 'Last night.'
He had such an adorable smile that a little of her fear eased away. 'I was sotted,' she answered. She threaded her fingers through her hair and tried to concentrate on the conversation. 'I'm ashamed of my behavior. I promise you it won't happen again. You did notice I drank only water with my supper tonight didn't you?'
He laughed. 'I'm noticing you don't sound at all contrite,' he drawled out. 'That's what I'm noticing.'
