Page 32 of Anice’s Bargain

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James did have secrets. Ones he’d declared only to his da, who had promptly disagreed and then ensnared James in this present mess.

Moreover, he knew her question for exactly what it was: a diversion. She had not yet answered him as to whether or not she had loved her former betrothed, which was in itself surely answer enough.

A dull pang echoed in his chest.

“I lied to ye,” he repeated.

The playful look on her face earlier had furrowed into an expression of confusion. “What did you lie about?”

“I do want land.”

She gave a soft smile of bittersweet victory, for he’d proven her correct. “So, you are not immune to the spoils of war after all, I see.”

“Aye, but no’ for the reason ye think.”

“Not to claim vast amounts of coin to burn through on drink? Or keeping a well-appointed whore waiting nearby to attend your every pleasure?”

Her crass speech momentarily silenced him. This amused her, for she laughed then.

“Do you not think a lady ought to know of such things?” She folded her arms over her chest. “My father has taken us to court several times. Ladies are told to ignore such things, aye, but that does not mean we do not see.”

“That is what some men do,” he replied hesitantly.

“But you are not most men,” she surmised.

Piquette ambled toward them, bumped a clumsy wet nose against both their hands and settled in a snoozing heap at Anice’s feet. Her face warmed with affection and her hand reached down to absently stroke his golden red fur.

“Aye, I’m no’ most men. I dinna prefer a life of stealing and theft.” Though James had lowered his voice, Piquette’s ears flinched at the sound.

Anice raised her brows, but her skepticism was not as sour as it had been when they were first betrothed. “What do you want land for then, pray tell?”

“I want it for my people.” His pulse ticked up a notch merely saying the words aloud. “A place for them to be safe, to stay out of harm’s way. To have the opportunity for a life without theft and lies.”

Silence met his confession and the cool air filled with the tinkle of voices and chatter wafting from the castle. James gritted his teeth.

Clearly, she did not agree with his plan, the same as his da. Mayhap it was a foolish hope, and there was no place in his life for a living built on honesty and fairness.

Anice lifted her large blue eyes up to him. The golden light from the setting sun washed over her and turned her loveliness into something ethereal. “Do you know the lands you will acquire from my dowry?”

He shook his head. In truth, he’d felt too guilty to see everything he would get with their marriage, like a thief pawing through his purloined treasures.

“It is a prosperous estate, befitting the daughter of an earl.” She lifted her chin up a notch with a note of pride. “The lands are in Carlisle, excellent for farming.”

He didn’t know England well enough to gauge if the land were good or not, but if the soil were rich, his men could learn to tend it.

“It would appear in your solicitous appeal to your father for our well-being, you have been delivered exactly what it is you were seeking.” Her smile held no weight to whatever emotion played behind her eyes. “You are fortunate.”

The final rays of the sunset went all at once bright, before being snuffed out as it lowered into the land beyond.

“I hope ye’re right.” He reached down and rubbed behind Piquette’s ear. The dog didn’t stir.

“Do your people know how to farm?”

“Some.” James got to his feet and held his hand out to Anice. “It grows dark, Lady Anice.”

“Call me just Anice when we are alone.” She put her small hand in his and rose gracefully to her feet. “Please.”