Midnight Eyes Brophy, Sarah (7 ebook reader txt) đź“–
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Robert had been all that was patient. He had taken such pains teaching her that she had found herself being drawn ever further under his spell. Her body had already burned for his, but now she was also coming to know him as a man of thought and feeling, and that combination was proving to be devastatingly intoxicating and addictive.
He had become as integral to her being as breathing. It seemed his every action made her fall for him that little bit more.
She couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the way he’d even insisted on giving her a constant commentary on the play during the first couple of games, not wanting any unfair advantages because she couldn’t see the board. It had played absolute hell with her concentration, but she had loved the sound of his voice so much that she had put up with it. For a while. In the end she had been forced to beg him to stop it or else she would run mad.
Not once throughout the whole process had he shown any irritation, no matter how confused she pretended to be by the complex rules. It was that gentleness of spirit that had managed to burn its way into her heart. Her smile broadened as she returned the last pawn to its square, her finger moving caressingly over the knick in the ivory Robert had put in all of the white pieces so that she would know which was which.
He was so thoughtful and kind, but of course that hadn’t stopped him from having his suspicions about her assumed ignorance. Even then he hadn’t really been angry, not as she had feared he might be when he realized what a trick she had played. It amazed her. She was bewildered by how he could calmly accept that she had been, to all intents and purposes, lying to him.
He really had to be the most surprising and amazing man she had ever known.
“Come,” Robert said tersely, his voice suddenly coming from nowhere, startling her out of her reflections.
He reached for her hand, engulfing it with his calloused strength, and lifted her from her chair without ceremony. The lamb made a bleat of distress at losing Imogen’s feet and fled to the hearth, where Matthew greeted it soothingly as he watched Robert all but drag Imogen from the hall, his eyes turning thoughtful.
Robert marched briskly from the main hall and Imogen had to trot to keep up with his longer stride and when he stopped suddenly, she catapulted into his back.
“Okay, now you can give her the goddamn message and then you can get the hell out of my sight,” he ground out.
Imogen’s brow furrowed in confusion, not sure what he meant. She flinched when someone else answered.
“Ah, my, um, instructions are that only the lady is to hear the message I am to impart,” said a voice, squeaky with youth.
Imogen didn’t recognize it, she realized with increasing bewilderment.
“Well, as that isn’t going to happen, you had better just get on with it.”
Robert’s voice was filled with barely suppressed aggression and Imogen felt a shiver down her spine. Gone was the gentleman who took time to teach his wife chess and in his place stood a cold, professional warrior that she scarce knew.
“What’s going on, Robert? Who is this?” she asked quietly, trying to hide her confusion. Robert had moved so quickly that her startled mind hadn’t been able to keep up. She had only the vaguest idea as to where they were and absolutely no idea as to whom they were talking to.
“Sorry, Little One, I wasn’t thinking. My anger carried me away a little,” he admitted ruefully. “It would seem that your brother has sent you a message, but he seems to fail to understand that I’m your husband now and he cannot hide anything from me.”
“Roger,” she whispered, frightening visions and memories flooding her mind.
She had pushed Roger to the back of her mind and, by doing so, she had found more than a small measure of peace.
Now that peace was shattered utterly with that one simple word: Roger.
She struggled to suppress the nausea that filled her, tried to stop herself from disappearing into a million pieces. She should have expected it. Roger would never let her escape, she had always known that, and she should never have allowed herself to forget it. Not that she wouldn’t be suitably punished for that lapse. Far from it. That small lapse into hope would now suffocate her.
Well, she couldn’t allow herself any further lapses into futile emotions. The fact was that Roger alone was in control and she must never allow herself to lose sight of that again.
She cleared her throat and tried desperately to hide her panic, but even to her own ears her voice sounded unnaturally high, a bad pantomime of calm. “And what is the message?”
The messenger took a deep breath, then plunged on with a rush. “My lady, your noble brother was most insistent that I give your message to your hearing alone.”
“He can insist all he bloody likes,” Robert exploded. “It’s my damn Keep and if I want to listen to my wife’s message, then I bloody well will. Roger Colebrook certainly isn’t going to stop me.”
“I would prefer it if you left me to hear my message alone,” Imogen said quietly.
“Well, I’m not.” The steely resolution was clear in his voice, but Imogen knew she had to ignore that.
“Please leave, Robert. It’s for the best, I’m sure.” She could have almost touched the frustrated anger that radiated from him, and the part of her that still believed in hope felt sorry for it, but the wiser part of her cynically wondered what part he played in the game, why he felt he needed to hear this message. She didn’t know which to believe. She could almost feel the questions that burned in him, but they were questions to which she had no answers. It didn’t
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