Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“It does to me. You are my wife, and you are not ugly. I have never met a more beautiful woman than you and never have I enjoyed coupling with a woman as much as I have with you.”
Elsie stared dumbfounded at him.
He grabbed her by the arms, squeezing them. “You and I will settle this between us. It will be our decision, not my father’s or your da’s, but our decision. Our lives. Our decision. I will have it no other way.”
She almost smiled, thinking he had just made a decision for them both, but she did not care. She was relieved to know that they would decide on it together, just the two of them, no one telling them what they must do. She only hoped he would find that their marriage might suit him and perhaps come to care for her after coming to know her better.
“First, we must see to helping your sisters, then we will decide about us.” He released her and needing to calm his anger at his father for saying what he did about Elsie, he went to the table and filled a tankard with ale and drank half of it. He added more ale and returned to her, holding the tankard out to her.
Elsie took it, surprised he was sharing his tankard with her and took a small swallow before returning it to him.
“I believe our best course of action is to find out why your da sent the three of you to Brother Kendrick, who he obviously trusted, not knowing he was no longer there or the changes that had taken place at the abbey. He had to have feared for your safety but from whom?”
Elsie dropped down on a nearby bench perplexed. “I do not understand it. All seemed well.”
Cavell joined her on the bench, sitting close enough for his arm to touch her arm, his leg to rest against her leg, their warmth to mingle and the lovely scent of her hair to drift over him. “At any time did you notice a change in your da or anything else?”
Elsie gave his question thought. “I do recall a message arriving one day and my da being agitated afterward. He refused to speak about it to anyone, getting angry at Leora when she pressed him about it. It upset her since my da never got angry at us. He might express disappointment at something we did, which was far worse than having him angry at any one of us, but he never raised his voice at us.”
“You never learned what the message was about or who sent it?”
“Never and, come to think of it, it wasn’t long after that that my da’s illness started, and he began talking to me about an arranged marriage,” Elsie said, her brow narrowing, wondering how she had missed that.
“We need to ask him about that, and I have wondered why the monks kept Sky’s face covered?” he asked, his wife having avoided telling him about it.
“The monks are ignorant and fearful, that is why. Everyone says that Leora is the most beautiful out of the three of us, but Leora and I both know that Sky is beyond beautiful. She is just a bit different than most, but that small difference makes people fear her instead of seeing her true worth.”
His wife turned silent and rested her head against his shoulder. He liked that when she sought comfort, she turned to him with unwavering confidence that he would be there for her, that she could depend on him, that she believed his strength would give her strength. He slipped his arm around her gently, cradling her against the curve of his shoulder and favoring the feel of her closeness. She fit him well, every bit of her and he briefly wondered if she had been crafted exclusively for him and him alone.
Cavell was content to sit as they were, not saying a word, as if all was right, and there was nothing to do but enjoy this tender moment they shared. He allowed himself to linger in the peacefulness, thinking something was bound to disturb them, pull them apart, and he waited for it, but it came from an unexpected source… himself.
His wife tipped her head back to look up at him and he lowered his head waiting to hear what she would say. But her lips distracted him, rosy and moist and the bottom lip thinner than her upper lip and yet they were both far more potent than any plump lips he had kissed and far more tempting. Lord, were they tempting, too tempting to ignore, and he didn’t—he kissed her.
Elsie had wanted to kiss him since entering the room. She had wanted—needed—to feel that closeness, that feeling that someone cared, that unexplainable squeeze to her heart that felt so wonderful and the overpowering shift of his muscles as his arms wrapped around her. His kiss never failed to consume her and at the moment she needed him to consume her and chase away her endless worry and fear.