During the confusion of unloading the wagon, Nesta saw Marcus approach Genith. Before she could get to them, Marcus had guided her sister through the manor house’s doorway.

Annoyed by the distractions that had permitted his quick move, she attached herself to the steward and nagged along the settlement of herself and the other women into a chamber.

She prayed that her sister would have the sense to neither agree nor disagree to whatever Marcus commanded. In fact, she counted on Genith knowing not to say anything at all.

“Three days hence.”

Genith did not even flinch when Marcus informed her of the quick wedding. For a girl who had shed a lot of tears on the first day of their journey, she remained remarkably calm. She sat on a stool not more than an arm’s span away from his chair, like a lovely form carved out of serenity.

She was one of the most beautiful females he had ever seen. As a boy he had dreamt of such ladies, and of possessing one when he reclaimed his place. From the shadows of the fetid alleys, he had watched them in the London markets, imagining himself dressed as richly as they were and not in rags, buying them small luxuries and receiving warm smiles in return.

He had been a smooth courtier in those fantasies, a champion of jousts and a hero of battles, and not a London gutter rat. In the pageant of his mind, his bed had been shared by many ladies of noble breeding before he finally took the hand of a sweet, innocent, perfectly beautiful girl in marriage.

Now the end of the boyhood dream sat within reach, but she moved him not at all. His lack of desire irritated him. So did her total absence of reaction.

“Have you nothing to say, my lady?”

Her face lifted, and her dark, vacant eyes regarded him. “We have not been betrothed.”

“We will do it this evening.”

“That will be a very short betrothal.”

“If you had not taken ill in London, it would have been much longer.”

For an instant she reminded him of Nesta. Not in her features, which were always similar, but in a fleeting spark of expression that indicated the mind was not quite as vacant as the eyes.

“I was not ill in London. I lied, in the hopes Nesta would hear of the marriage and come.”

Her honesty about the ploy surprised him. “You sought delay so that your sister would be with you when you wed?”

“I sought delay so she might come and save me before I wed.”

“Why did you want to be saved? Were you afraid?”