by Cheryl Holt
“Don’t you dare be kind to me!” she fumed.
“Don’t be kind?”
“No. Don’t be charming, don’t be humorous, don’t be considerate. Don’t be…anything!”
“Why not?”
“Because I start to like you!” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I don’t want to like you. I want to hate you. I want to always hate you.”
“I don’t want you to hate me. I want you to love me.”
“It’s never going to happen. Announce my punishment, mete it out, then leave me be.”
“Why? So you can wallow in misery over your horrid lot in life?”
“Yes. Let me wallow. Let me suffer. Let me pity myself for all I’ve never had, for all I’ve never been. Let me…let me…”
The fight went out of her. Her shoulders slumped, her body sagged with defeat, and a flood of tears washed down her cheeks. A major bout of sobbing commenced.
“My darling, Anne,” he murmured.
He drew her into his arms, cradling her to his chest. Her woe was so great that she didn’t have the energy to pull away, and he took full advantage of her deteriorated state.
He’d never held a weeping woman before. He’d never wanted to hold a weeping woman.
He stroked a hand up and down her back, whispering soothing words, comforting her as he never had another. To his surprise, he received an enormous amount of comfort in return.
“I’m so sad,” she lamented as the deluge slowed.
“I know you are.”
“I’m sorry I ran away. I’m sorry I angered and worried you. It seems that’s all I ever do.”
“Hush. I don’t mind your antics. Well—not much.”
“I want to belong at Morven,” she vehemently said. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And I chased you away.”
“Can you understand how it’s been for me here? All these years, to be shunned and detested and loathed. For what? Because my father was obsessed with my mother! How is that my fault? Why was I blamed?”
“I haven’t any idea, Anne. I’ve never understood cruel behavior.”
“I was so desperate to have you care for me. When you married me, I thought…” She stopped, looking so dejected, so disconsolate. “Oh, it doesn’t matter what I thought.”
“Yes, it does. Tell me.”
“I thought you might…might…” Her cheeks flushed, her lashes fluttered down.
“Might what?” he pressed when she couldn’t finish.
“I thought you might grow to…love me.” She seemed shamed by the admission.
“You believed I didn’t?”
“How could you? You can have any woman you desire. They flock to you like locusts. You’re fascinating; you’ve been everywhere and done everything, and I’m just…Anne of Morven. I’ve never been farther than the monastery where you found me. How could I possibly entice you? How could I possibly win your affection?” She peered down at the floor. “I was a fool to try, and when I realized it was hopeless, I couldn’t bear to stay with you.”
After he’d first learned that she’d left, he’d presumed he knew why, and she’d confirmed his opinion. It was more than her discovery about Charmaine. It was her assumption that he was fickle in his preferences and she could never match up to Charmaine or any other female.
Her feelings of inadequacy had exacerbated her perception that she could never have what she craved the most. They were the same things for which Hugh had always yearned: a home of his own, a place where he belonged, where people valued him, where people were happy to call him one of their own.
His life path and Anne’s had been completely different, but exactly the same, too. She’d never had a home, had never belonged.
When he’d wedged himself into the midst of Castle Morven, he’d needed to make a spot for her, too.
He dropped to his knees and took her hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed her palm. He clasped her other hand and did the same. He gazed up at her, letting his fondness shine through.
“I love you, Anne.”
“No, you don’t. Don’t say that to me.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“You could never love me.”
“Why couldn’t I?”
“I don’t think you can love anyone. I don’t think you know how.”
“That, my dear, is where you’re wrong.”
“Get up off your knees,” she scolded. “It has to hurt to have all your weight on them. Get up now.”
“No. Not until you tell me you love me, too.”
She glanced away. “I don’t love you.”
He chuckled. “And you said that I was the liar. Look at me.”
“What?”
Her beautiful green eyes met and held his.
“I want to marry you again.”
“Marry again? You’re mad.”
“Last time, I forced you. I didn’t even permit you to speak the vows—well, you probably wouldn’t have spoken them if I’d asked—so I want to do it again. I want to do it correctly.”
“To what end?”
“We’ll start over. I will pledge myself again. But you will pledge yourself, too.”
“It’s no use,” she insisted.
“Why isn’t it?”
“Even if you swear, it won’t keep you from breaking my heart.”
“I can swear now. I can swear and mean it.”
“How? You don’t believe in anything, remember? Not God. Not country. Not king. Not your vows as a knight.”
“I’ve found one thing that matters more to me than all of those. I’ve finally found what is worth having, what is worth cherishing.”
“What is that?”
“You, Anne,” he said.
“Oh, Hugh…”
“Love me, Anne. Save me. I’m so alone that I’m dying with it. Tell me you love me, too. Tell me that you’re mine, that you’ll stay with me. Tell me that I can have you forever.”
“You make it so hard to say no.”
“Good.”
“You make it so hard to push you away.”
“Then don’t. Have me. Love me. Keep me for your own.”
He kissed her palms again, then buried his face in them. He remained there, not breathing, his pulse racing, his future hanging in the balance.
“You brought everyone to the chapel,” she murmured.
“Yes, so they could all see how sorry I am, so they can all hear how much I love you.”
“I want to be happy, Hugh.”
“As do I.”
“It’s all I’ve every wanted.”
He drew away and peered up at her. “Let me make you happy. Sing for me. Dance for me. Laugh with me. Give me children. Give me joy. Give me another chance.”
Henry chose that inopportune moment to poke his nose into the room.
“What’s it to be, you two?” he demanded. “What’s taking so long? Are you penning a copy of the Bible in here or what? We grow tired of waiting.”
“She can’t decide if she’ll have me or not,” Hugh explained.
“Women!” Henry snapped. “At least have mercy, Anne, and allow the poor man to get off his knees. You know how his joints ail him.”
“I tried to convince him to stand,” Anne said. “He won’t listen to me.”
“I’ll stand when she provides the answer I seek.” Hugh pulled her nearer. “What’s it to be, Anne?”
“Yes, Anne,” Henry pressed, “what’s it to be? How can you not love my lord Hugh?”
“Yes, Anne,” Hugh smugly added, “how can you not?”
Anne stared at Hugh, at Henry, at Hugh again.
“How can I not?” she whispered. She dithered, pondered, fumed, then said, “No more womanizing.”
“Never.”
“No more philandering.”
“No.”
“No tavern girls. No amours. No passing fancies.”
“No.”
“I’m actually considering it,” sh
e muttered. “I have to be the biggest fool who ever lived.”
“Not the biggest,” Hugh retorted, “but definitely the prettiest.”
She scowled at Henry. “You’ll watch over him, will you, Henry?”
“Absolutely, my lady Anne.”
“You’ll hold him to account? You’ll hold him to his vows?”
“Anything for you, Lady Anne.”
She studied Hugh. “It has to be me—and only me,” she declared. “Just me forever.”
“Just you,” Hugh agreed. “You forever.”
“Then, yes, my lord Hugh, I’ll marry you again.”
She yanked him to his feet, took his hand, and they walked into the church together.
Enjoy these other great e-books from Cheryl Holt. Now available for most e-readers…
NICHOLAS
“An exciting plot complicated by Emeline and Nicholas's roller-coaster relationship keeps the pages turning. A great weekend read.”
Emily Thompson, Library Journal
“It is always a wonderful feeling, like comfort food, to read a favorite author, and her storytelling here is just as wonderful as in her first book. I find this to be uncommon, but Ms. Holt is this type of author. I recommend any reader to search out her books and read them."
Teagan Boyd, Book Wenches.com
SEDUCE ME
“"Romantic Times hit the nail on the head when they dubbed Cheryl Holt the "Best Storyteller of the Year" and proof of that claim can easily be found in her charming new novella, SEDUCE ME."
Teresa St. Mary, Novels Alive TV