Containing deer meat, the delicacy is called umble pie. If there’s a bit of crow in it, it becomes humble pie.
source unknown
While Devan had excused himself to meet a church member at the vicarage, Avalon had sought refuge to pace in her old bedroom. She’d always hated the marchioness suites. With its beautiful ivory walls and exquisite floral embroidery, the room had always reminded her that she’d been an imposter as Richard’s wife. For the full two years that they were married, he’d never returned to Warwyk Hall while she was here. He’d always preferred London, where his true “wife” lived.
That was what he’d called Mary Bolen. Indeed, Avalon did feel like a fraud once she found out the truth of her husband’s affections for Mary. What would Richard have thought if he’d known that she and Mary had become allies after his death? Probably shock and an overwhelming urge to keep Avalon and her taint as far away as possible from the family he loved.
Though she didn’t love Richard, knowing this had turned Avalon’s heart to ice. A well-constructed barrier that she’d designed to keep such heartache from breeching her ever again. At least she’d thought it well-constructed until the vicar had entered her life like a hurricane tearing down every obstacle in its path.
Avalon stopped her pacing as her attention drew to the ornate and ostentatious bed. She’d never lain with a man there. Not with Richard.
Not with Devan either.
When she thought of him, a heat rushed through her. When he’d joined his body with hers, for the first time in her entire life, she felt whole. The emptiness in her life cast aside.
Devan was a man she’d never tire of.
He called her a warlock, but the truth was he’d woven a spell around her that tied her into knots. She now knew how it felt to climb a perilous mountain where one false step could lead to utter destruction. She’d been through heartache before and had promised herself she’d not fall again.
If she took a wrong step with Devan, she wondered if she could survive the ultimate fall, because there was one big difference between her two husbands.
She wasn’t just falling in love with Devan. She loved him.
Her traitorous heart had slipped through all the protective barriers she’d created and given itself freely to him.
Later that night at dinner, Avalon stayed unusually reserved. It was apparent to all that she was lost in her thoughts. Devan didn’t ask, but he kept a watchful eye. Even his own musings had turned dark. He had the irrational fear he’d turn around and she’d disappear like a puff of smoke.
It was only natural that he be worried about her, but Avalon was by far the strongest woman he’d ever met in his life. She possessed an innate sense of right and wrong and followed her heart. No challenge was too big for her. One just had to look at what she’d accomplished with her charities to see her inner strength. The fact that she was raising her son and sister at the same time was simply awe-inspiring. If there was ever a woman who was a flawless blend of strength and radiance, it was his wife.
Or at least, that was his opinion. He chuckled slightly to himself. No doubt, his friends would argue that their wives were perfect.
But Devan had the vantage. He’d married a witch, a very powerful one.
After dinner, he bathed in front of the fire in the exquisite formal bedroom Avalon and he would share from now on. It was right down the hall from her old bedroom. Suddenly, the bedroom door opened, and she stood before him in her dressing gown.
A smile broke across his face. Slow and measured so he’d not spill water from the slipper tub, he stood. Water sluiced in tiny rivulets down his torso. He reached for the linen toweling and began to dry himself. Not surprising, his member thickened at the sight of her. “Are you ready for bed?”
She stared at his body, then slowly raised her gaze to his. “No.”
Though he’d never been one to believe in premonitions, something stirred in his wife’s eyes. A decision or an ultimatum. Perhaps he was overthinking why she was there. A little humor might lighten the mood, so he waved a hand down his body. “You have my undivided attention.”
She didn’t spare a glance at his hand. Instead, she visibly swallowed, betraying her unease, which could have been cut with a knife. “I know you deny you were rushed into marriage, but the truth is you were.” Her chest rose and fell in agitation. “And so was I. I’ve not been able to think of anything else since you told me you kissed Penelope.”
“She kissed me,” he argued.
“Yes, you told me that.” She fiddled with the tie of her dressing gown while her gaze latched to his. “I find that I’m in an awkward position and have been unable to reconcile my thoughts. You see, I’m the type of person who needs the truth, and if that makes me unsophisticated and naïve, so be it.”
“I’d never think that. If anyone, that describes me.”
“Stop, I beg of you.” It became apparent to both of them that she was hellishly bent on finishing her thoughts.
He finished drying, then drew on the banyan, not bothering to button it. In five strides he crossed the great room to stand beside her.
She held up her hand as if commanding him to halt. “You said you wouldn’t lie to me, but I’ve discovered something since you’ve moved to Thistledown. You’ve omitted the truth when it’s convenient for you.” There was little emotion in her soft voice.
“Meaning?”
The heavy sound of her sigh landed on his shoulders. Immediately, his hope to make love to his wife tonight sank.
“I don’t … know if you’re sincere or not. Everyone believes you to be a man of great experience with life and women, but you tell me differently when you’re about to bed me.”
“You doubt that I was a virgin?” He didn’t hide the incredulity in his voice. He was skating on thin ice and could hear it cracking beneath him.
“How do I know?” The hesitation in her voice was undeniable. “I can’t. You did things to me that I’ve never had experience with before. A virgin wouldn’t know those things, would he?”
“I made up all those tales of rakish conquests to fit in with my friends. I was an outsider trying to find a place in the world.” He ran his fingers through his hair, praying he was saying the right things to relieve her worry. “It kept Gavin from escorting me to any more brothels. You can appreciate that, can’t you?”
“Indeed, I can. Being an outsider describes my life in so many ways.” She sighed silently. “Did you tell anyone else your secret?”
“Not until recently. I spoke of it with Will and Paul after our night in the cellar,” he answered.
She narrowed her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t have time.” He exhaled his frustration. Whether it was for her questions or his bumbling reluctance, he couldn’t guess. “I was going to tell you when you first asked me to marry you. Then Mrs. McVey came in and you were hurrying away.”
“Come now. You couldn’t walk me out of the vicarage and tell me?” The hint of challenge in her voice was unmistakable.
“It’s not something that I wanted to tell you out in the open when anyone could have walked by and interrupted us.” He shook his head, desperate to come up with a way to make her believe him.
“Penelope told me that she didn’t share with anyone that you had ruined her until later.” Her stare pierced him in two. “But you and I know that was a lie.”
“Avalon. Don’t compare me to her.” His sharp voice revealed his frustration.
The proverbial ice cracked open and he felt the cold water slowly seep into his veins. What had he done? All his maneuverings to appease his brother and fit in with his friends as a man of experience while keeping himself chaste were a fool’s errand. A deep sense of foreboding joined the cold in his veins. He should have told Avalon immediately before they married. She had a right to know everything. Particularly after she’d shared her experience with her first husband, Devan should have been astute enough to see that she needed to know more about him. For God’s sake, as a vicar, it was expected he’d not hide behind a false rumor. Desperate for warmth, he walked to the lit fire and closed his eyes.
“I told you where I learned how to do those things. I’ll not deny that I listened when others talked about their experience with women. I wanted to come to my wife pure and ready to give her, meaning you, pleasure. Are you going to condemn me for that?” He forced himself to calm down.
“Again, how would I know?” A hint of vulnerability shaded the determination in her voice.
His heart lurched in response. Never did he mean to cause her doubt.
She took a step closer. “I didn’t have much choice or time to think through all of this. Neither did you. Your brother threatened me with taking Thane away if I didn’t agree to marry you.”
“Sit with me.” The plea in his voice was unmistakable as he pointed to a miniature settee next to the slipper tub. He’d beg on his hands and knees if it would convince her to come nearer. “It’s difficult to discuss such matters with you so far away.” He lowered himself to the bench, then patted the seat next to him.
Avalon didn’t sit next to him as he’d asked. Like an animal who’d been beaten and was now shy, she came closer, but kept five feet separating them. It was as if she was frightened he might bite.
God, what had he done?
For the first time in his life, he had a caring, beautiful woman, his wife, to share his life with, and she didn’t trust him.
“I’d always thought I’d have the opportunity to tell my wife about my virginity before the ceremony. But everything happened so quickly. I’m sorry.” He stood and closed the distance between them. When she didn’t retreat, he wanted to rejoice aloud. “You can’t actually believe that I have feelings for Penelope Rowley, do you?”
“Truthfully, I don’t think so.”
“Avalon,” he murmured. “It was my foolish pride to hide my inexperience and pretend I was someone I’m not. After today and last night, how could you think otherwise?”
She held up her hand to silence him. “Someone once told me that pride was a dangerous trait.”
Her gaze felt like a hot razer cutting through him. He’d said those words to her.
“Devan?” She wrapped her arms around her waist as if protecting herself.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he murmured.
She visibly swallowed, then exhaled as if debating what to say. “Penelope is carrying a child.”
“Dear God.” He ran his fingers through his wet hair. Suddenly, Avalon’s hesitation made sense. “You don’t think I’m the father, do you?”
She didn’t move an inch but continued to stare at him.
“Avalon, talk to me,” he begged. The silence between them thickened. Even the fire seemed to lose some of its fierceness.
Finally, after a moment, she broke the silence. “No. I’m trying to make sense of it all. I have to help her. She wouldn’t survive such a marriage to that monster.” Her eyes widened in fear. “She’s part of my … I meant to say our community.”
“There’s only one solution I see,” Devan calmly said. “We should leave Penelope’s problems to the Rowleys. I’ll meet with Mr. Rowley as promised.”
“Devan.” Her voice cracked in disbelief. “You’re the village vicar, and I’m their patroness. I want to help her. She’s a family friend and a member of our community.”
“I’ll not see her hurt you or cause a divide between us,” he argued. It was bad enough that he had to witness her late husband haunting her, but Devan vowed to protect her from future pain.
She tilted her chin upward. “I remember your first sermon. Wasn’t it turn the other cheek?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “But if you remember, dear wife, I also said that one had to make wise choices when you venture into the valley of evil.” He lifted one brow. “Did you miss that part?”
“No. I heard it. But it’s the ‘valley of death,’” she corrected. “You’ll fear no evil.”
“Exactly. I will fear no evil,” he countered. “But I also know when to stay away.”
She bit her lip as if debating her next words. When she glanced his way, she’d grown pale. “Did you marry me just for the money?”
“How could you ask that?” he asked incredulously. “Do you not understand what I feel to be married to you?”
“I’m sorry.” She clenched one hand in a fist, and the other she held close to her heart as if protecting it. “I have no experience with any of this except for Richard’s and my parents’ machinations.”
“What secrets they kept from you were hurtful, not to mention despicable. But they’re not me.” He lowered his voice. “Come. You can’t tell how much I wanted you last night and today?” Everything he believed he had with Avalon slipped away like sand through his fingers. “I’ll want more tomorrow.”
They stood facing each other—chest to chest and eye to eye—neither moving. The eerie quiet between them suddenly broke when the logs collapsed in the fireplace. Sparks lit the room in a subtle glow before dying. He prayed it wasn’t a harbinger of what would come of their marriage.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, where he pressed a kiss. Her warmth and scent wove around him like tentacles securing him to her. The simple truth? He never wanted to escape. In her arms, he’d found everything he’d ever wanted.
A wife, a family, a place to belong.
“Do you believe me when I say you’re amazing and passionate, and that I’m a lucky man?” He pressed his lips against her forehead, then rested their entwined hands against the middle of his chest. “Do you have an answer for me, Lady Warlock?”
“I’m trying to believe,” she whispered. The words floated straight to his heart.
“I’ll just have to work harder to convince you.” With an audible sigh, he pulled her closer, if that was possible. “Come to bed and let me show you.”
The moment she pulled away, his heart tripped in his chest. He adored her softness, her thorns, her doubts, and her convictions. He loved her devotion to family and community.
He loved her.
“Sweetheart, I could no more betray you than I could betray myself or God.”
With that sterling truth, an unbearable aching took hold. Though he loved her, she didn’t believe him true. Indeed, tomorrow, he’d work twice as hard to convince her she ruled his world.
His wife didn’t need any witchcraft to accomplish such a fact. All she had to do was be herself.
“I’m sorry if I’ve impugned your honor. I don’t mean to.” She crossed the room, then reached for the handle of the door. “But I find great comfort from this one truth. My failings, these wounds I carry don’t hurt you. Only me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Everything that hurts you, hurts me too. You’re my wife, the greatest gift I’ve ever received.”
If there was one thing he desired in his shallow life, he wished he’d have told her that she made him want to be a better person. By allowing misconceptions and telling tales of his supposed debauched life, he’d hurt her and his chances to make her see how much he valued her. He vowed then and there that all of his days would be devoted to showing her how wonderful and unique she was.
“If you desire to help Penelope, then I’ll be by your side. Anything that concerns you, concerns me. That’s the way I’ll always feel.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I apologize with my entire being if I’ve caused you pain or doubt.”
She nodded once, then slipped out the door.
He closed his eyes and whispered a short prayer for help.
If he lost her, then he’d lose everything of value.
For without her, he had no heart.