The Black Lyon (Montgomery/Taggert 1)
“I acted no differently than I had with a hundred men. There! I have repaid you. Nay, I do lie, so do not glare at me more. And what of you? Do you marry all the women you meet after one day?”
Ranulf pulled her back to his shoulder. “I see I accomplished little. You are stubborn and will not heed my words. But listen well and remember this: You need never fear another woman languishing about for me after a few brief meetings.”
“Then you say she could after a few longer meetings?” Ranulf shrugged. “It has been known to happen. I am a most skillful lover.”
“You are…”
He kissed her and stopped her words.
“I will not argue with you. Try only to remember my words when another woman, cleverer than you, seeks my gold.”
“I cannot remember that I am to believe anyone thinks you ugly. Know you that your eyes have flecks of gold in them?” She felt him laugh against her.
“I concede. I am the most handsome of men and shall never deny it again.”
“Ranulf,” she began timidly. “If you say you are not as I see you, am I also different from the way you see me? You have said you think me beautiful.”
Ranulf laughed again. “Alas, it is not so. I fear I heard of your beauty for three years before I ventured to Lorancourt. I vow I was no little curious about this girl who caused grown men to speak in whispered tones.”
“This is true?”
“Aye, but I will not say more or repeat it. You are too vain now, although I do not see how you can be when you are so fat you near push me from the bed.”
“It is you who has made me fat. If you were slim and not such a great hulk of a man, I am sure I would not be burdened with a child half the size of that great horse of yours. So do not complain to me of discomfort, for it is my skin which is near to bursting with him.”
Ranulf hugged her to him. “If I did not love you so well, you would be a bother to me with your sharp tongue.” He felt her body stiffen against him. Puzzled, he asked, “What have I said that causes this?”
“You said that you loved me,” she whispered.
“Certainly. I have said it often enough. Why should it cause you to pull away from me?”
“You have never said it.”
He pulled her chin up. “Do you cry again? I understand this not at all. There has never been a day when I have not told you I love you.”
“Nay, you have never done so. Amicia knew you had not and when I saw one of your letters that said you loved her…”
“Do not forget that I did not write those letters. But what you say cannot be true. If I have not said the words, then my actions have told you. Each time I make love to you I tell you I love you.”
Lyonene sniffed. “But you have made love to many women. Did you love them also?”
“Nay, I did not, but it is different with you.” He stopped, for he realized she could not know how he was different with her. “Have I not been kind?”
She worked to control the tears. “You are kind to all women.”
“Mon Dieu! You will drive me mad. There! I have just told you I love you.”
“You curse me and that is to be taken as a declaration of love? Forgive me if I do not see your logic.”
“I have no logic near you. What other woman causes me to lose my temper or makes me laugh? What other woman do I chase across the water or do I dress as a serf to rescue?”
“Your wife? Isabel whom you loved so well, that drove you near mad with grief when she died?”
Ranulf was stunned for a moment and could not speak.
“I know how you loved her. It is in your eyes when I mention her or the child. I think I cannot replace her in your heart.”
“Do not continue,” he said, his voice cold. “You misread me sorely if you think I bore that woman any love. I will tell you what I have told no other person and then you may judge for yourself what caused my grief.”