The Gift (8 page)

"You might as well understand that I'm not going to walk away from this marriage," he stated in a hard voice. "Not now, not ever."

After making that statement he patiently waited for the fit of hysterics sure to come.

"What took you so long?"

She'd spoken in such a soft whisper, he wasn't certain he heard her correctly. "What did you say?"

"Why did you wait so long?" she asked him in a much stronger voice.

"Wait so long to do what?"

He looked completely bewildered to her. She took another deep breath. "To come for me," she explained. Her voice shook. She gripped her hands together in a bid to hang onto her temper, then said, "Why did you wait so long to come and get me?"

He was so surprised by her question, he didn't immediately respond. That Nathan didn't even think she merited a response was the last blow to her pride that Sara was going to take. In a near shout Sara demanded, "Do you have any idea how long I've waited for you?"

His eyes widened in surprise. His bride had just shouted at him. He stared at her in a way that made her think he thought she'd lost her mind.

And then he slowly shook his head at her. Her composure shattered. "No?" she shouted. "Was I so insignificant to you that you couldn't even be bothered getting around to the chore of coming for me?"

Nathan was stunned by her questions. He knew he shouldn't let her raise her voice to him, but her comments so astonished him, he wasn't certain what to say.

"You actually want me to believe you're angry because I didn't come for you sooner?" he asked.

Sara picked up the nearest object she could get her hands on and threw it at him. Fortunately, the chamberpot was empty. "Angry?" she asked in a roar worthy of a commander. "What makes you think I'm angry, Nathan?"

He dodged the chamberpot and the two candles that followed, then leaned back against the door. "Oh, I don't know," he drawled. "You seem troubled."

"I seem…" She was too incensed to stammer out another word.

Nathan's grin was in full evidence when he nodded. "Troubled," he finished for her.

"Do you own a pistol?"

"Yes."

"May I borrow it?"

He forced himself not to laugh. "Now why would you want to borrow my pistol, Sara?"

"I want to shoot you, Nathan."

He did laugh then. Sara decided she hated him. The bluster went out of her. She wanted to weep with frustration. Perhaps her relatives had been right after all. Perhaps he did despise her, maybe even as much as her parents told her he would.

She gave up the battle and sat down on the bed again. She folded her hands in her lap and kept her gaze downcast. "Please leave my cabin. If you wish to explain your sorry conduct to me, you may do so tomorrow. I'm too weary to listen to your excuses now."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. She dared to give him orders. "That isn't how our marriage works, Sara. I give the orders, and you obey them."

His voice had been hard, angry. It was deliberate, of course, for he wanted her to understand he meant what he said. He thought he was probably frightening her again. She started wringing her hands in obvious agitation, and though he felt a bit guilty because he had to resort to such intimidating tactics, the issue was far too important to soften his approach. Nathan promised himself that no matter how pitiful she looked or sounded when she started crying, he would not back down.

Sara continued to wring her hands for a long minute, pretending that it was her husband's stubborn neck she had between her fingers. The fantasy helped to lighten her mood.

Nathan nagged her back to reality when he growled, "Did you hear me, bride?"

God, she hated the name "bride!"

"Yes, I heard you," she answered. "But I don't really understand. Why is that how this marriage works?"

The tears were back in her eyes again. Nathan suddenly felt like an ogre. "Are you trying to bait me?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No," she answered. "I just supposed our marriage was going to go along in the opposite direction.

Yes, I always did," she added in a rush when he frowned intently at her.

"Oh? And just how did you think this marriage was going to go along?"

He actually seemed to be interested in her opinion. Sara immediately took heart. She lifted her shoulders in a dainty shrug. "Well, I supposed that it would always be my duty to tell you what I wanted."

"And?" he prodded when she quit her explanation.

"And it would always be your duty to get it for me."

She could tell from his dark expression he didn't like hearing that opinion. She could feel herself getting riled up again. "You're supposed to cherish me, Nathan. You did promise."

"I did not promise to cherish you," he countered in a shout. "For God's sake, woman, I didn't promise you anything."

She wasn't about to let him get away with that lie. She jumped to her feet to confront him again. "Oh, yes, you did promise," she shouted back. "I read the contract, Nathan, from start to finish. In return for the land and the treasury you're supposed to keep me safe. You're also supposed to be a good husband, a kind father, and most of all, Viking, you're supposed to love and cherish me."

He was at a loss for words. He suddenly felt like laughing again. The twisted turn in the topic was exasperating. Exhilarating, too.

"You really want me to love and cherish you?"

"I most certainly do," she replied. She folded her arms across her chest. "You promised to love and cherish me, Nathan, and by God, you're going to."

She sat down on the bed again and took her time straightening the folds in her gown. The blush that covered her cheeks told of her embarrassment.

"And what are you supposed to be doing while I'm loving and cherishing you?" he asked. "What are your promises, bride?"

"I didn't promise anything," she answered. "I was only four years old, Nathan. I didn't sign the contract. You did."

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. "Then you don't believe you have to honor your father's signature? The promises he made on your behalf aren't binding?"

"I didn't say that," she whispered. She let out a loud sigh, then added, "Of course I will honor them. They were given in my name."

"And what are they?" he demanded.

She took a long time answering him. She looked thoroughly disgruntled, too. "I have to love and cherish you, too," she muttered.

He wasn't satisfied. "And?"

"And what?" she asked, pretending ignorance.

He decided then and there that his bride was trying to make him crazed. "I also read the contract through from start to finish," he snapped. "Don't try my patience."

"Oh, all right," she countered. "I have to obey you, too. There, are you happy now?"

"Yes," he returned. "We're now back where we started," he said then. "As I instructed you before, I will be the one to give the orders, and you will be the one to obey them. And don't you dare ask me why again."

"I will try to obey your orders, Nathan, when I think they're reasonable."

His tolerance was at an end. "I don't give a damn if you think they're reasonable or not," he roared. "You will do as I say."

She didn't seem at all upset that he'd raised his voice to her. Her voice was quite mild when she said, "You really shouldn't use blasphemies in a lady's presence, Nathan. It's common, and you happen to be a marquess."

The look on his face was chilling. Sara felt completely defeated. "You hate me, don't you?"

"No."

She didn't believe him. Lord, the mere sight of her was making him ill. His complexion had a gray cast to it. "Oh, yes, you do hate me," she argued. "You can't fool me. I'm a Winchester, and you hate all the Winchesters."

"I do not hate you."

"You don't have to shout at me. I'm only trying to have a decent conversation, after all, and the least you could do is control your temper." She didn't give him time to shout at her again. "I'm very weary, Nathan. I would like to rest now."

He decided to let her have her way. He opened the door to leave, then turned around again.

"Sara?"

"Yes?"

"You aren't at all afraid of me, are you?"

He looked quite astonished. It was as though the truth had just dawned on him. She shook her head. "No."

He turned around again so she wouldn't see his smile.

"Nathan?"

"What?"

"I was a little afraid of you when I first saw you," she admitted. "Does that make you feel better?"

His answer was to shut the door.

The minute she was alone again she burst into tears. Oh, what a naive fool she'd been. All those wasted years of dreaming about her wonderful knight in golden armor coming to claim her for his bride. She'd imagined him to be a gentle, understanding, sensitive man who was thoroughly in love with her.

Her dreams mocked her. Her knight was more tarnished than golden. He had just proven to be as understanding, as compassionate, as loving as a goat.

Sara continued to feel sorry for herself until exhaustion overcame her.

Nathan looked in on her again an hour later. Sara was sound asleep. She hadn't bothered to remove her clothes but slept on top of the multicolored quilt. She rested on her stomach, her arms thrown wide.

A feeling of contentment settled inside him. It was a strange, altogether foreign feeling, but he found he actually liked seeing her in his bed. He noticed Nora's wedding band was still on her finger. Odd, but he didn't like seeing that at all. He pulled the ring off her finger just to rid himself of his own irrational irritation and put the band in his pocket.

He turned his attention to taking Sara's clothes off. After he'd unbuttoned the long row of tiny clasps down her back he eased the gown off. Her shoes and stockings came next. He was awkward with the task, and the petticoats almost defeated him. The knot in the string was impossible to untie. Nathan used the tip of his knife to cut the string away. He kept at the chore until he'd stripped his bride of all but her silk chemise. The white garment was extremely feminine, with lace edging the scooped neckline.

He gave in to his urge and brushed the back of his hand down her back.

Sara didn't wake up. She let out a little sigh in her sleep and rolled over onto her back just as Nathan was tossing the rest of her garments on the nearby chair.

Nathan didn't have any idea how long he stood there staring at her. She looked so innocent, so trusting, so damned vulnerable when she slept. Her eyelashes were black, thick, startling against the creaminess of her skin. Her body was magnificent to him. The fullness of her breasts, only partially concealed by the flimsy chemise, aroused him. When he realized he was physically reacting to her he turned to leave the cabin.

What in God's name was he going to do with her? How could he ever maintain his distance from someone as enticing as his bride?

Nathan put those questions aside when a wave of seasickness hit him. He waited until his stomach quit lurching so violently, then lifted the blanket from the hook and covered Sara. His hand touched the side of her face, and he couldn't help but smile when she instinctively rubbed her cheek against his knuckles. She reminded him of an affectionate little kitten.

She turned, and her mouth touched his skin. Nathan abruptly pulled his hand away. He left the room and went to look in on Sara's aunt. Nora appeared to be sleeping peacefully. She looked pale, and her breathing was labored, but she didn't seem to be in much pain. Her expression was serene. Nathan remembered the ring in his pocket. He walked over to the side of the bed, lifted her hand, and slipped the band back on.

Nora opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Thank you, dear boy. I'll rest much easier now that I have my Johnny's ring back."

Nathan acknowledged her gratitude with a curt nod, then turned and walked back to the door. "You think I'm a sentimental fool, don't you?" she called out.

His smile was quick. "Aye," he answered. "I do."

His blunt honesty made her chuckle. "Have you spoken to Sara yet?" she asked.

"I have."

"Is she all right?" Nora asked. She wished he'd turn around so she could see his expression.

"She's sleeping," Nathan announced. He opened the door and started out.

"Wait," Nora called out. "Please don't leave yet." He reacted to the tremor he heard in her voice and immediately turned around again. "I'm very frightened," Nora whispered.

Nathan shut the door and walked back over to the old woman's side. His arms were folded across his chest. He looked relaxed, save for the frown on his face. "You needn't be afraid," he told her. His voice was soft, soothing. "You're safe now, Nora."

She shook her head. "No, you misunderstand," she explained. "I'm not afraid for myself, dear boy. My worry is for you and Sara. Do you have any idea what you're letting yourself in for? You can't possibly know what those men are capable of. Not even I understood the depths to which they would sink for greed. They'll come after you."