Time Travel Romances Boxed Set

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Time Travel Romances Boxed Set Page 87

by Claire Delacroix


  Viviane had a good idea where this story was going. “What happened?” she asked when Niall fell grimly silent.

  “I rode out, ceremony and fine trappings on every side. We met on a field chosen between the two holdings, the perimeter tight with tents of nobles. Every peasant within walking distance was there, every merchant walked his eligible daughter through the throng. ’Twas a spectacle such as few have the chance to witness - and my match with this champion was the highlight of the fete.”

  “’Twas there I showed myself no champion of repute.”

  “Of course you are!” Viviane cried.

  “Nay, Viviane. I failed my patron. I miscalculated the intent of my opponent on the seventh course. He swerved his steed and collided with mine, unhorsing me, wounding both beasts and crushing my knee.”

  “But you must have been wearing armor!”

  He flicked her a wry glance. “Do you know the weight of a destrier? The beast was running at full gallop and fully armed as well. He struck mine so hard that both beasts broke a rib, and my knee had the misfortune to be trapped between.”

  “That’s horrible!”

  “Aye, I was quickly defeated after that and the archbishop was mightily displeased.”

  “But your knee?”

  “Healed after a fashion, thanks to the aid of a sympathetic physician. The steeds did not fare so well - - and neither did my repute.” He stretched out his leg and the joint creaked. “The rain worsens its complaints and it does not suffer me to ride overmuch these days. Nay, Viviane, I am a knight no longer.”

  Viviane exhaled in sudden understanding. “So, that was why you were a sentry in the archbishop’s dungeons!”

  “Aye.”

  She sat up, nodding her understanding. “I just knew it couldn’t be an easy labor for you. You were intended to ride on quests, to right wrongs and to save damsels in distress. You’re not the kind of man to march people to their deaths and I knew it, right from the moment we met…”

  She leaned forward to give him a hearty kiss, certain her endorsement would improve his spirits, but Niall abruptly swung out of bed.

  It must be that his injured knee needed a stretch, Viviane concluded, for he limped as he crossed the room. He shoved a hand through his hair with impatience and his expression was forbidding when he turned.

  Oh, horrible feelings had been dredged up by that memory, Viviane could see. She was doubly honored that Niall had shared it with her.

  The books were right - communication between them was key.

  “What did you think of me, there in the archbishop’s dungeons?” She smiled brightly, hoping to lighten the tone of the conversation. “I have to say that I didn’t spend a very comfortable night there and I couldn’t have been looking my best…”

  Niall looked up suddenly at that, his expression agitated. “Viviane, ’tis time I confess to you…” he began, his tone purposeful.

  But then, his eyes abruptly widened and his words halted. Niall stared at her, then at the floor as though disbelieving what was before his own eyes. Viviane followed his glance, catching her own breath at the telltale bright red drop.

  Oops.

  She noted her own virginal blood smeared across Niall’s flesh in the same moment that he discovered it. He touched himself and inhaled sharply, then his eyes flashed.

  Viviane blushed and dropped her gaze, her rush of maidenly shyness a little late to be much help.

  “You are a virgin?” he demanded.

  Perhaps she had not done so badly with lovemaking as she feared. Any pleasure Viviane might have felt at the implied compliment, though, was quickly shattered by Niall’s evident horror.

  She shrugged self-consciously, pulling the linens higher over herself as she tried to smile. “Well, not any more.”

  Her attempt at humor fell flat.

  Niall flung out a hand as he took a step closer. “How could you not have told me the truth?”

  “You didn’t stop to ask!” Viviane pushed the weight of her hair back from her cheek and lifted her chin proudly.

  “You should have told me!” Niall thundered.

  “If it mattered that much, you should have asked!”

  Niall muttered something that Viviane was quite glad she couldn’t quite overhear. “This changes all!” he declared with evident frustration. “Zounds, but what is a man to do?” He paced the room with new vigor, not looking nearly as pleased as he had just a few minutes before.

  If Niall had chased her to Avalon to return her pendant, using it as an excuse to see her again, if he was really her one true love and they were destined to be together, then what did her virginity matter?

  Viviane straightened, unable to shake a portent of dread. “What do you mean?” she asked carefully. “What does it change?”

  Niall shoved a hand through his hair and paced the width of the room one more time. When he pivoted suddenly to face her, Viviane had a distinct sense that he had made a decision.

  And judging by his dour expression, it wasn’t one he liked.

  “We shall have to be wed,” he declared flatly. “This very day. There is naught else for it, though indeed the repercussions may be dire.”

  It wasn’t what she had expected him to say, and certainly not the way Viviane had ever expected the man of her dreams to propose to her. In fact, Niall looked as though he were doing something particularly distasteful, and that he was doing it only because he didn’t have a choice.

  “What?” Viviane croaked, certain she must have misunderstood.

  “We shall be wed,” Niall affirmed, then nodded briskly as though all was resolved. “There is no choice.”

  Viviane gasped at the lack of romance in his attitude. This wasn’t how he was supposed to ask for her hand. “You’re asking me because you have no choice?”

  “Clearly.” Niall frowned as he thought. “Surely there is a priest to be found in this place? No doubt the press of coins in his palm will see the matter resolved before midday.”

  Viviane’s mouth fell open and she bounded from the bed in outrage. “I’m not a matter to be resolved! And I won’t be married by midday, today!”

  Niall looked at her then, his gaze fathomless green. “A man of honor must do what is right, Viviane. I have taken your virginity and will pay the price, however heavy that might prove to be.”

  And he reached for his clothing, as though there was nothing more to discuss.

  Viviane had a somewhat different view of things.

  “What are you talking about? You said you came for me!”

  Niall steadily held her gaze, an apology in the depths of his eyes that Viviane couldn’t understand. “Aye, I came for you,” he admitted softly, as though he didn’t want to.

  “And you said you wouldn’t leave without me.”

  Shadows dawned in his eyes. “Aye, ’tis true enough.”

  “Then, what’s the problem? Why don’t you want to marry me?” Viviane flung her hand out toward the bed. “You wanted me last night, and again this morning, just as I wanted you. Why is marriage a price to be paid? And what sort of dire repercussions could there be?”

  “Viviane!” Niall took a step toward her, appeal in his gaze. “You must understand…”

  “I don’t understand!” Viviane’s tears threatened to choke her. She had practically thrown herself at Niall, she had been so sure that they were meant to be together, and he had taken advantage of her offer. She was such a fool! Oh, she had confused the tales in her imagination with the truth, she had mingled the hero of her book with a living, breathing man. “I trusted you. I believed you were my one true knight. Barb warned me about men of your kind…””

  “Nay, Viviane, ’twas not thus.” Niall propped his hands on his hips. “Matters are most simple, if you would but listen to me.”

  Viviane folded her arms across her chest and hoped desperately that he had a good explanation. A convincing one. Her heart was hammering wildly and she could not steady her breathing.

&n
bsp; How could she have been so wrong about her knight?

  “I’m listening,” she said with as much dignity as she could.

  “Your maidenhead is a treasure destined for the man who takes your hand in marriage,” Niall said patiently. “’Twas not mine to take, and I apologize for my failure to recall that in the heat of the moment. Further, I would make matters come aright, instead of leaving you in shame.”

  “So now what we have done is shameful,” Viviane said with disappointment. “As well as an obligation.”

  This was not the way it happened in her book.

  Niall’s lips tightened as though he didn’t like her tone, though he slanted a very green glance her way. “’Tis right for a man to bear the consequences of his deeds. I have taken your maidenhead and will pay the rightful due.”

  If he had made some mention of passion, or even desire, instead of citing responsibilities like a legal clerk, Viviane’s annoyance might have waned.

  Instead, his measured words made her even more angry.

  “You took nothing from me that I wasn’t prepared to give!” Niall seemed momentarily astonished, but Viviane wasn’t done. “And I’m not going to marry you just because my virginity is gone!”

  His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You care naught for the shame that will find you on your wedding night?”

  “Maybe I’ll never marry!” It wasn’t such a long shot, given her disappointment in this moment.

  “Viviane!” Niall scowled. “Use the wits with which you were blessed. There could be a child from this union, one compelled to pay the price of this folly for all its days.”

  Oh, it was folly. Better and better.

  Viviane lifted her chin, irked even more that this practical tack was the only argument Niall thought it suitable to make. “So there could be. If there is, I’ll manage on my own. It won’t inconvenience you.”

  Niall straightened. “What is that to mean?”

  Viviane stared him down, virtually daring him to show some passion over this. “I am the one who will bear that child, give birth to it and raise it. It has nothing to do with you.”

  Now he was angry.

  Niall’s eyes flashed before he jabbed a finger through the air and roared. “’Tis my obligation to support any fruit I compel a woman to bear! ’Twill not be said of Niall of Malloy that he took what was not his due and did not make matters come right!”

  “And what about me?” Viviane demanded. “What about what I want?”

  The annoyance melted from Niall’s eyes, and his puzzled expression caught at Viviane’s heart. “But what else could you possibly desire? Viviane, I have seen that you are a woman of sense - how could you not want a spouse to take responsibility for your child? How could you believe there to be merit in raising a babe alone?”

  His appeal nearly undermined Viviane’s anger completely, because she could tell that he couldn’t think of another thing a woman could want, besides a husband to provide for her child.

  Besides him.

  But Viviane wanted more than Niall’s pledge to wed her. It was time for a little communication. Fortunately, she was more than prepared to be blunt.

  “What about love?”

  Niall blinked. “Love?”

  “Yes, love! I want love,” Viviane insisted. “And love is the only reason that I’ll ever marry anyone.”

  It would have been nice if Niall seized this challenge, stepped forward and pledged undying devotion, right then and there - that’s what would have happened in Viviane’s book! - but he didn’t.

  Actually, he rolled his eyes. “Love!” he snorted. “Love does not see a babe fed and clothed, love does not see a roof over that child’s head. Love heats a man’s loins, compels him to make poor judgments, then flees into the night.”

  Viviane gasped. “Is that what this was? A poor judgment?”

  “It would seem so!” Niall roared. “Certainly you are not thinking clearly, Viviane! Love is not to be trusted and no reliable guide for one’s choices. Love is a whimsy of poets and minstrels and has naught to do with the good sense of responsibility.”

  “Well, responsibility isn’t a good enough reason to be married!” Viviane shouted back at him. “Whether it’s for a child or for virginity, it’s not enough!”

  Niall folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. “Did you find this whimsy in this realm?”

  Viviane echoed his gesture and glared right back. “No. I learned from my mother that the only marriage worth having was one based on love. That’s what she had and that’s what she valued, and that’s what I want too.” Niall held her gaze stubbornly, his thinking clearly unchanged. “I won’t marry you just because you feel guilty, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Niall seemed to have nothing to say to that. He grimaced and exhaled heavily, shook his head and turned away. Viviane thought he muttered something about women, but she couldn’t be sure.

  She was too busy being disappointed. The man of her dreams wasn’t supposed to find love a foreign concept.

  Well, to live was to learn, as her mother had often said.

  And Viviane was learning a bit more than she would have preferred. She fingered the pendant Niall had returned to her and was glad to have that much at least. Viviane was determined to not cry in his presence, so she blinked back her tears and turned to pick up her robe.

  Once composed, she shot a telling glance over her shoulder en route to the washroom. “Besides,” she said archly, “you don’t have a very nice way of asking.”

  Niall’s head shot up. Viviane held his gaze for a telling moment, then strode away while she still could, her nose in the air. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d make it without Niall chasing her, much less that she could turn him away if he so much as touched her again.

  But she did.

  And she didn’t think about exactly who she was locking the door against. The image of a very nude, very tanned, very muscular knight - the knight of her dreams, in fact - staring after her, an unexpected vulnerability in his green eyes, was one that Viviane knew she wouldn’t easily wash from her thoughts.

  She was less sure that she wanted to. She leaned back against the door and let her tears of disappointment rise for only a moment before she straightened and turned on the shower.

  *

  Niall opened his mouth and closed it again, certain he would never understand the thinking of women. He had thought Viviane different from Majella, a woman of sense, yet she clung to arguments of passion with the same nonsensical determination of his sister.

  ’Twas not welcome news.

  And just when he thought he had no chance of salvaging the situation, Viviane threw him a tantalizing comment like that last one.

  He hadn’t asked nicely enough.

  There was a sentiment Majella would applaud. Niall rubbed his brow and decided ’twas an arduous task he had taken upon himself when he followed Viviane. Indeed, matters grew more complicated by the moment! She had denied his proposal born of duty, but in typical female fashion, had left more questions in the wake of her decision than before. Niall, though, after years of dealing with Majella, was certain he could think matters through.

  Did Viviane mean she wanted only the pleasure he could grant her, without any further ties? ’Twas an odd perspective for a woman so recently a virgin and Niall immediately dismissed that possibility.

  Or did she mean she would never accept his offer, regardless of what he said or did? Surely Viviane knew that children had need of hearth and home, of food and security? Aye, she spoke warmly of her own mother, so clearly knew the value of family.

  And she knew naught of his pledge to return her to the archbishop - Niall fidgeted with guilt that he had not confessed the truth to her, though he had come close - so that could not be a factor in her refusal of his suit. Indeed, she seemed to think that Niall had pursued her for her own company alone, a fact that hinted that she would not be displeased to find that suspicion proven true.

  So,
Viviane must have some favorable inclination toward him, as the last night so amply showed. Did she mean then that she would entertain the notion of marriage if he asked nicely?

  That sounded most womanly, to Niall’s way of thinking, and suitably incomprehensible. Though, indeed, he wondered whether Viviane would be any more comprehensible anywhere he encountered her. He recalled their first meeting in the dungeons and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  The lady had a talent for defying his expectations, no less for challenging his convictions.

  ’Twas what he liked about her, truth be told.

  But a woman’s greatest treasure should be reserved for the man who took her to wife - Niall had only to look to the example of his nieces and nephews to see where the opposite choice left children. Marriage was the only honorable choice, even though marriage to a woman convicted of witchcraft could only earn Niall a place alongside Viviane on the executioner’s block.

  A man must stand by what he had done, a man must bear the weight of his responsibilities. Niall’s sense of duty tolerated no exceptions for challenging circumstance. A lesser man might have stepped away, relieved that his task was not to be further complicated.

  But Niall was a man of honor and he knew what was best. They would be wed.

  And with all haste.

  To have Viviane decline him, for the sake of that troublemaking folly known as love, did not fit well with Niall’s view of his responsibilities.

  Clearly, she must first be dissuaded of this foolery that marriage was a matter reserved for those snared in the false trap of love. Niall did not trust love, as it fell into that category of unseen intangibles that were not to be relied upon.

  Although, Viviane was certainly not the first maiden to find that siren’s call alluring. And truly, if ever there had been a woman capable of seizing a notion and running farther with it than any might have believed possible, ’twas his Viviane.

  Niall smiled despite himself. Her tales and her conviction in their truth were appealing, he had to admit. He liked how her eyes flashed when she explained matters to him and how her entire face shone with the certainty of what she knew. He enjoyed how passionately she argued her case, not a shred of doubt within her thoughts.

 

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