How to Marry Your Wife Read Online Free Page B

but her legs wouldn’t move. She didn’t deserve him, not after what she’d done. Besides, if he remembered, he’d never forgive her and leave for certain. She turned her head into her pillow, hoping the memories wouldn’t come. But a sinner’s prayers are never answered.

Chapter 4
    Merry may’ve slept some, but woke to the cuckoo’s lament in the early dawn followed by the endless crowing of the cock. That bird would no doubt strut about until finding a hen who’d welcome his advances. She pulled the pillow over her ears. Damn that arrogant bird and all males as well. Her wedded torment had begun again and they’d not even bedded. She dressed and resigned herself to a life of misery.
    At the top of the stairs she stopped. Thomas, the man who’d stolen all her thoughts for years, stood in front of the great hearth speaking with Sir Marcus. Thin yellow light of dawn filtered in from the open arched doors. From the looks of their red faces and slovenly appearance, they’d been working at the jug in front of them all night. She sat silent as their voices rose on the wings of cherubs. Who else would let her in on the secrets of men?
    Trying to circle fingers around a brown pottery chalice, Thomas fumbled. “Damnation. When did you buy enchanted goblets?” He brought the cup to his lips, swallowed, and belched. “I can’t thank the gods enough that the spawn of the devil are all dead.”
    “That’s rather a harsh pronouncement. Wasn’t even one of your family redeemable?” Marcus stirred at the final embers in the hearth, shrugged, and shoveled in more peat.
    Thomas waggled a finger. “Judgment from the man who put a knife to his father’s neck and lash to his back?”
    “It was well deserved.” Marcus put the shovel down, a mug to his lips, and tilted his head. Frowning, he peered in as if checking for a bug, then poured generously from the jug.
    “You’re such a good friend. Did I mention my wife wouldn’t have me?” Thomas slapped Marcus so hard on the shoulder that mead spewed forth from his mouth.
    A wry smile crossed Marcus’ face as he punched Thomas back. “You may’ve mentioned it once or twice during the evening.”
    “Know what? I should take my son and go. That would teach her.” Most of the amber liquid in his cup sloshed onto sticky brown tiles under foot and they both stared at the pool.
    Merry held back a gasp. Take her son? Not while her body still moved would she allow such a thing. Drunken fools.
    “Give her time. It was quite a shock.” Marcus grabbed Thomas’ goblet out of his hands and set it upon the mantle with a resounding clunk. “No more.”
    With fingers spread over his chest like a maid, Thomas spoke in falsetto. “And was this shocking for me as well?”
    Unable to stay with the jest, he cursed, glared, and took back his drink. “And now . . . Now I’m heir to the D’Agostine Castle, no man’s land of the damned and disputed. We must be off, but I’ll not leave them here.”
    Marcus shook his head and put a hand upon hearthstone to steady himself. “Your mind swings back and forth like a ball on a chain. I thought we just agreed. They’re to stay with Ann or with my brother.”
    “I changed my mind. Not with him. He might marry her regardless that she’s already married to me. After all, I’m believed dead. No, no. Now I’m convinced. She’ll endure the ride to the north. Sh-She’s my wife and I’ll have her grow accustomed to me.” He swaggered a bit, fell into a chair, but slipped out and onto the floor.
    “You, my friend, are feeling the effects of my wife’s very finest mead. The boys will stay with my brother as will Meredith and Ann. We just need to explain the broken vows. A few gold coins should stave off his disappointment. Then, we can gather knights along the way. My brother always has some to spare and I know of others for hire. No one in their right mind would dare lodge an attack against such an entourage. Are you willing to let go