Page 85 of The Guardian’s Favor

Aidan said nothing.

She had decided Aidan de Sowlis would be her husband, but she hadn’t thought it would be easy to persuade him she’d changed her mind. Well, she was nothing if not patient. She stayed as silent as he, waiting for an opportunity.

Her wait was rewarded when their meal was placed before them. Just as he reached for a slice of cheese from their shared trencher, she did the same. Her fingers not so accidentally touched his, though she pulled back, as if startled.

Clarissa was rewarded with a sharp glance.

Did he know she did it apurpose?

Though neither of them spoke, her next opportunity came as they finished the first course. When Aidan handed her the cleaning cloth, she ensured their fingers touched once again. This time, she allowed hers to linger.

A tick in his jaw told her it was working.

Throughout the meal, he spoke mostly to Allie, who sat on his left. Conversation with her was limited to pleasantries, but Clarissa was not fooled by his casual manner. Twice she’d caught him looking at her as if she were an interesting specimen who required further study.

At one point, a servant placed a jug of wine in front of Aidan, assuring them he would soon return, to see to another task. Rather than wait, Clarissa murmured, “Pardon me,” and reached across the trencher for the jug. And if her leg brushed his under the table, well, it couldn’t be helped.

The hand on her knee so startled her, Clarissa nearly dropped the wine.

“What are you about, my lady?”

His hand remained in place, the heat of it searing into her.

“I am attempting to pour more wine,” she said, refusing to look away. His eyes, anything but cool, bore into her own.

“Nay, you are attempting to seduce me,” he said in a lowered voice.

She pretended to be shocked by his directness.

“I promise you, Aidan, I’ve not seduced any man before in my life.”

Though he relaxed his grip, Aidan’s hand still did not move.

“But you don’t deny you are doing just that now?”

Can I be so bold as to admit it?

Had she not just stabbed a man in the thigh?

“Nay, I do not deny it.”

His thumb moved ever so slightly, caressing her. And then it was gone.

“Why?” He took the jug and poured her wine without looking away.

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her voice. “I should not have left.”

He didn’t respond, but neither did he look away.

“I will never leave you again.”

She desperately needed him to believe her, but Clarissa could tell he did not. Yet. At least he was listening.

“I would do anything,” she said, putting emphasis on that last word, “to prove it to you.”

Finally, a crack. His lips parted, ever so slightly. She did not relent.

Leaning closer to ensure they could not be heard, she whispered, “I am yours. Let me show you that I will always be so.”