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Her grip on her eating dagger tightened until her knuckles were white. “Then you are hard of hearing, my lord.”

Martin would have been rubbing his hands together in glee if it wouldn’t have given away his game. The first arrows had been unleashed. Let the battle begin.

“Not in the least. He praised your virtue, your beauty, and your intelligence. How could I not wish to wed you?” Her cheeks grew redder with each word of praise. By God, she was lovely when she was riled up.

“If you believed that, then you have as much wit as this chair I sit on.”

Some demon possessed him to say, “If I am a chair, then come sit on my lap.”

She gave him a scornful look. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Too late, my lady. My hopes grow with every word from your sweet lips.” And every lash of your sharp tongue.

“Then you are a fool. I am not for you, Little Baron.”

He grinned. “Little Baron? Is that the best you can come up with?”

“You wish for worse? I assure you, my lord, I can sting you where it hurts. Don’t tempt me.”

He sat back and crossed his arms. “Do your worst, honeybee. Let’s hear it.”

“You asked for it, you walnut-sized nitwit,” she said, shaking her head.

“Do you insult my height or my length, my lady? You must be more specific.”

Her ears flamed red as she took his meaning. “Ugh. Cease talking. More of your conversation would infect my brain.”

“What can I say? I am infectious.” He was enjoying this far too much.

“Truly, you are a disease, my lord. You make me sick.”

“Lovesick already? I had no idea I was so potent.”

“I told you to cease talking, you toad. Your croaking offends my ears.”

“In faith, my lady, I am disappointed. Surely you can find some more interesting way to insult me.” With Lance as his brother, he’d already had a lifetime of unflattering comparisons to thicken his hide. Her barbs couldn’t pierce his good humor.

“You are too far beneath my notice, and I can’t be bothered,” she said, turning her attention to her bread and cheese and taking a large bite.

Martin considered her in silence for a long moment. “Do you know,” he said at last, “I think you’re putting on an act. Your heart doesn’t seem to be in this. Are you pretending to be a shrew to put me off marriage?”

She choked on her bread and had to wash it down with a generous swallow of ale. Clearly, he’d hit close to the mark. Time to retreat and lure her in.

“I see,” he said, softening. Poor thing.

He’d had several months to get used to the idea of matrimony, whereas she only just learned of the match.

“What can I do to put your mind at ease? I promise to take things slowly. I insisted on forgoing the bedding ceremony when I arranged things with your father for the wedding. I know it will take time for you to get used to the idea of being my bride, and I swear to you I will do everything in my power to be a patient and good husband to you.”

His bride sighed and closed her eyes. “You aren’t the right man, and this isn’t the right time.”

Words of truth at last. “If that’s the case, what do you propose we do?”

She must see how impossible it would be to defy Lady Eleanor in this matter.

“I don’t know,” she said softly, her shoulders sagging. “Did you know it’s my birthday today? What a way to celebrate turning eighteen.”

“I’m sorry. This must all be something of a shock to you.” He reached out and put a hand over hers, squeezing gently, then withdrawing quickly at her venomous look. Her skin was so soft and warm beneath his. The brief contact made him long for more, but clearly, she wouldn’t welcome it. Yet.

She met his gaze, fierce eyes gleaming with unshed tears, and his heart melted. He had to win her favor if it was the last thing he did.

“I have a proposal,” he said, folding his hands together to keep from reaching out and stroking her cheek.

“We must go through with the wedding. Lady Eleanor has made her wishes known, and your parents want the match. We could hardly defy them in their own castle. But there’s no reason we must consummate it.

Give me…let’s say…the time it takes us to travel to Winchelsea to win you over.

If by the end of our journey you still feel I am the wrong man at the wrong time, we can have the marriage annulled.

I have no desire for an unwilling wife. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and let me woo you for the duration of our voyage. ”

She blinked. “I know I cannot defy Lady Eleanor, especially not while I’m under my parents’ roof. I accept your offer on one condition.”

A little flame of hope sprang up in Martin’s breast at her words. “Yes, my lady?”

“Let my sister, Adelaide, stay with me at Winchelsea while I find a new husband. She is supposed to continue to Normandy to enter the duchess’s service as soon as we arrive, but I wish to delay her journey until my future is settled.”

It would be tricky keeping Lady Adelaide in defiance of Her Grace’s wishes, but he supposed he could figure out a way to explain a minor delay. If it helped him win Isabella over, it would be worth it.

“As long as it’s a brief stay, it would be my pleasure. I don’t wish to risk Lady Eleanor’s ire, but I doubt she’ll notice a few extra weeks.”

Isabella narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, and she looked at him in silence.

“Are we agreed then?” he asked tentatively.

“We are, my lord,” she said at last.

Wonderful news! In just a few hours, he would wed this lovely, intelligent woman, and he had weeks at sea to convince her to stay. That should be more than enough time to win her over. The Fabian strategy was working.

“You are grinning too much, my lord. Don’t get your hopes up. I am not the wife for you.” She stood, gave him a little nod, and swept out of the hall.

We shall see, my lady. We shall see.