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Still, happiness was not...
‘William added depth to me. That was not there before. Being his father is perhaps the greatest challenge of my life. But it has made me a better man. Still, there is happiness outside of these prescribed roles. And sometimes there is little happiness to be found in them. My first marriage did not produce happiness.’
He needed her to understand this. Perhaps just now. As they were in public, as they were safe from it all becoming too intimate, even as he spoke of things he often left in the dark corners of his memory.
He was not being cruel for the sake of it.
It was clear to him Beatrice would welcome his touch. At least, as she understood it. But disquiet remained, in his soul.
For he had believed he had a connection with Serena, and he had been wrong.
For he had missed the signs that she was so deeply unhappy she no longer wanted to live. That she no longer loved him had been clear. But the rest...
He had not known.
And the feeling he had caused it, contributed to it, by telling her of his desires to be dominant with her in their bed, stuck in him.
They continued to stroll along the walk, the sun filtering over the grass, the flowers and the gold of the palace.
‘What of ours, Briggs? Is it to be more of what we had last night?’ She did not look at him when she asked the question.
She might not look at him, but he did look at her. Her bravery, her honesty, lit brilliantly by the sun, amazed him.
Shamed him.
‘An impossibility, I’m afraid.’
‘You regret it so?’
‘Beatrice...’
‘Only I’m just beginning to understand. Desire. Desiring another person, and what that means. Is it that you do not desire me?’
He curled his hands into fists, for if he did not he did not think he could resist touching her. ‘If I did not desire you, last night would not have occurred.’
‘I am your wife. Why should it be a complication for you to desire me?’
‘Because of the rules we must fulfil for each other. Because of the way that I have been tasked with protecting you, and you can be angry about it all you like, but it does not change the way of things. I care for your brother a great deal, and promises were made to him.’
‘It is not his life,’ she said. ‘It is mine.’
‘And I’m your husband. So your life is mine now.’
‘What a scintillating conclusion to have come to,’ she said.
‘You are mine, and that means I will care for you, as I said. I don’t think you understand truly what that means.’
Of course she did. She didn’t understand the deep... It was primal. The thing in him that demanded he care for that which was his. When he took a woman into hi
s bed, her pleasure and her satisfaction, walking the line between pleasure and pain perfectly, was of the utmost importance to him. But even more, ensuring that Beatrice found happiness, that she was well-clothed and well fed, with her favourite foods...
Remember how you used to bring her sweets?
He stilled, locking his back teeth together.
And he refused to acknowledge that. The idea that all along he had been drawing her to him. Baiting her as if she were a small animal. Feeding her sweets.
None of what had happened between them was planned.
