Page 7 of A Honeymoon of Grave Consequence (The Unexpected Adventures of Lady and Lord Riven #2)

If breakfast hadn’t been so precariously balanced upon her lap, Margaret would have made another yank for the covers to hide her face behind them. “It all seemed a good idea at the time,” she mumbled miserably, “but whatever Leonie’s said, I’m sure?—”

“As far as I know, she hasn’t said anything.” Lord Riven’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “But am I to understand that she chose to follow you on your expedition this morning? Waited and caught you alone, away from the inn and?—”

“ No .” Ugh, this was a disaster! “She thought I’d followed her , which of course I had not.

But then I tried to offer her comfort for her unhappiness and— oh, it all went terribly wrong.

” Margaret’s cheeks were burning; she couldn’t bear to see his expression, so she turned her gaze sightlessly to the plate on her lap, her own vision filled with the memory of Leonie’s furious, stricken face.

‘Are you completely heartless?’

“I shouldn’t be allowed out in public,” she said glumly. “I’m not fit for company outside a library.”

Her husband’s warm hand tipped her chin gently upwards, until she couldn’t avoid meeting his clear, hazel gaze. “That,” he said, “may be the first untrue thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

Wincing, Margaret pulled free. “You needn’t deny it for my sake,” she muttered. “I know I’m useless when it comes to talking to people. I’ve never pretended otherwise.” Her aunt and uncle had made it more than clear from her first arrival in their home.

“And yet I’ve never enjoyed talking to anyone else half so much as to you.

” Lord Riven’s lips curved upwards at one corner as his voice deepened.

“You marched into my house all those months ago in your wedding gown, lectured me about the state of my tea, and lit up my life for the first time in centuries.”

“Pfft.” It was absurd for Margaret’s eyes to sting at those words. She blinked furiously as she retorted, “How many people had you even seen in all those centuries? All you needed to break free from your malaise was to be liberated from the binding of your old vows?—”

“Something which even the most charming of social courtesies could never have effected,” he pointed out.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I needed your sharp brain and scholarship to achieve that liberation.

Without your intervention, I would still be hopelessly trapped within the bounds of my own estate, cut off from the world forevermore. ”

“Well, yes, but...” Against her will, the words abruptly spilled out from the knot in her chest where they’d been carefully hidden for weeks. “Now that you are finally free and you’ve caught up on everything you’d missed, our bargain doesn’t hold up anymore, does it?”

There was a moment of pulsating silence. When Lord Riven finally spoke again, his voice held a distinctly ominous tone. “I beg your pardon?”

Margaret gritted her teeth against the cowardly impulse to retreat.

She’d been hiding for weeks from this stomach-churning truth—but she wouldn’t mistreat her first true ally and dearest friend by denying him full honesty and fairness, no matter how agonizing the cost might be.

“It’s very simple,” she said tightly. “You initially proposed that we stay wed so that you would have companionship on your first journey away from home in centuries. Back then, you needed someone to reintroduce you to the wider world—but we both know you aren’t in need of my assistance anymore.

That has been patently obvious since Paris.

Everyone enjoys talking to you—you fit in wherever we go—whereas you’ve seen what an utter mortification I am in public, so— mmf ! ”

Her final word was lost in the warmth of her husband’s lips.

As always, his kiss was firm and sure and hypnotically addictive, and as always, he overwhelmed her senses.

She opened her mouth for him without a second thought, barely aware of the breakfast tray being shifted off her lap as she grasped his broad shoulders for balance—and by the time he finally pulled away, she was hopelessly out of breath and half-sprawled across his thighs, all else temporarily forgotten.

Lord Riven’s eyes were sheened with telltale amber, and his voice was hoarse, but he still seized the opportunity to speak first, like the keen strategist he’d so often proven himself to be.

“There will be no disparaging my wife,” he said firmly.

“I’ll have you know, if I were offered the choice between freedom to roam the world without you or a return to my imprisonment forevermore—but with you by my side—I would choose you above all other considerations.

I didn’t ally with you in hopes that you would make idle small talk for me with strangers; oddly enough, I’m actually capable of managing that for myself. ”

“You know perfectly well how good you are at it,” Margaret grumbled, but she didn’t shift off his lap.

“Ha. I might have thought so, too.. .if my proposal all those months ago hadn’t left you believing I wanted you as the human equivalent of a newspaper, useful only to bring me up to date,” he said wryly.

“It may interest you to learn that from my perspective, I used all of my powers of persuasion in a desperate attempt to convince you that you had logical reasons to give up the scholastic life you loved, gloriously unperturbed by social interruptions, only because I so deeply desired your company by my side. I always will.”

“Oh.” It was a wholly inadequate response when it came to conveying the depth of her emotions—but Margaret’s mouth was still tingling, her chest warm and flushed, and her heartbeat thudding against her throat.

She seemed to have lost contact with the more articulate portion of her brain somewhere between the dizzying kiss and his even more disorienting words.

Had everything she’d thought she’d known about the sensible, practical basis of their partnership been hopelessly askew all along?

“ Oh , indeed,” he said ruefully, tucking a strand of her disheveled hair carefully back into place.

“My dear, I don’t believe you have even the slightest understanding of how remarkable you truly are.

I meant it when I said that you lit up my life, after so many centuries spent in darkness.

I only wish I felt even a fraction of your sense of passionate purpose in this world—but it is the greatest honor of my life to support it. Oh, and...”

He gave a rueful grimace. “Speaking as someone who went through my own period of reckless grief and rage after my initial transformation, I wouldn’t judge yourself too harshly by Fr?ulein Leonie’s reaction to whatever it was that you said.

Even if you did misspeak, I can assure you that eloquence would not have made a difference.

The most exquisitely phrased sympathy or reassurance couldn’t have pierced my own haze at the time.

I might well have lashed out, too, in response to anyone who’d dared try offer any comfort. ”

Margaret’s brows furrowed, her mind sharpening. “So, did anyone help you adjust to your new condition?”

He shrugged, his gaze sliding away from hers for the first time. “It was a different era, my dear, and besides...well, you already know my history.”

Margaret did.

Breathing out through her teeth, she reminded herself—not for the first time—that there was no point in switching her scholarly focus to necromancy merely for the fleeting satisfaction of one day being able to speak her mind without restraint to her late father-in-law.

Instead, she focused on the question that was most relevant now. “What would have helped in the beginning, do you think?”

“Realistically? I don’t know.” He looked back up, his expression drawn and his eyes dark with emotion.

“But I can tell you that it would have made all the difference if I had somehow understood, back then, that I would find you here, waiting for me in another century—if I’d had even the faintest idea that my condition, unwanted though it was, would prove itself the key that made it possible for me to meet my perfect partner. You were entirely worth waiting for.”

“ Oh!” Margaret still couldn’t form the articulate response he deserved—but she surged forward in his arms to kiss him with all her determined energy and every one of the dangerous, life-disrupting feelings sweeping through her with devastating power.

It was some time before she remembered her breakfast.

Fortunately, the cold slices of meat and cheese were still tasty even after a significant wait—and the delightful exertions in which she’d just engaged had left her with a hearty appetite.

So, she devoured her meal with real appreciation while her husband lounged with leonine grace on the bed beside her and looked on with a fond smile.

Only a sudden flash of memory made Margaret pause mid-bite. “Oh! I almost forgot—I owe you an apology.”

Smirking, Lord Riven traced one finger lightly across her closest bare shoulder, making her shiver. “I can assure you, madam, you do not.”

“Not about that .” She rolled her eyes at him even as she shifted closer to aid his further explorations.

“No, on my way back from my fieldwork, I found an invitation to a soiree waiting for us on the inn’s front step, and I’m afraid.

..well, that is, I may have slightly overreacted in the heat of the moment. ”

“Oh, dear.” Her husband’s lips twitched. “Did you set it on fire and burn down half the forest in the conflagration? Or?—”

“Something like that,” she mumbled, “but with less damage done...to everything but the invitation itself.”

“I see.” He hooked one strong, bare arm behind his head and leaned back against his pillow, looking thoughtful but reassuringly un-disappointed by the news. “Who was it from?”

“Some baroness or other.” Shrugging, Margaret returned to her meal. “I didn’t recognize her title.”