Bride by Midnight (8 page)

“I suppose that will work. And then?”

A witch’s prediction, a string of bad luck, and years of nightmares had spurred her to this point. But there was more. She didn’t want to be a burden to her parents; she didn’t want to be underfoot when the new baby arrived. She certainly didn’t want her father and her stepmother to look at her with pity because she couldn’t find a husband and make a home of her own.

And she wanted her own home, at least for a while. She and Blade might not have the time she’d planned to have with her husband. If they lived in her father’s house... No, even if it was a hovel, she
would
have her own home.

“We will live in your room.”

“You haven’t even asked what the place is like. What if you find it unsuitable?”

“No matter what your living circumstances may be, we will manage. You’re much too tall for my bed. Kyran, the man I was supposed to marry this afternoon, isn’t much taller than I am, so it would not have been an issue, but you simply will not
fit
. Yes, your room,” she said with a determined nod of her head. No matter where it might be, it would surely not be as dark as the inside of a tomb or as quiet as a nunnery where everyone had taken a vow of silence, and no matter how unsuitable it was, she would not be living there alone.

***

Blade watched Lyssa walk carefully and quietly through the door to her small but more than satisfactory home. Though he could not see anything of the interior from where he stood, he was certain it was much nicer than the room he rented by the day, even though that rough room was much better than most of the places he’d slept in the past four years.

Lyssa would soon regret marrying him. But not before she served her purpose and got him into the palace.

He’d sunk to new lows in order to do what had to be done, but that realization that did not make him regret his decisions. It wasn’t as if Lyssa got nothing out of the deal. She had the husband she’d been so desperate for, and the deed had been done before midnight. Who was he to say that her reasoning was invalid? He would make sure she wasn’t entirely sorry before he finished his business here.

He and his wife would lie together again, and he would show her what pleasure could be had when a man and a woman came together.
Not entirely unpleasant
, she had said. She had no idea... and it would not be a sacrifice on his part to teach her.

Late as it was, as unexpectedly satisfied as he was, he didn’t feel like sleeping. It wouldn’t be the first sleepless night he’d passed. Nor the last. He walked past the tavern where he’d left his half-empty bottle of whisky sitting unattended. It would be long gone, and while there was more to be had, he did not want to dull his senses. Not now.

He kept walking. This was an unsavory part of town, and he passed more than one other tavern along the way, and also a rutting couple or two. Drunk and totally without shame, they did not even bother to slip into an alley, not at this late hour.

Not far beyond one loud and ill-kept tavern, he passed the two-story inn where he’d been renting a room, and as he watched a rail-thin prostitute and her customer fumbling with one another near the front entrance, he knew he could not bring Lyssa here. Even though he and his bride had just engaged in a very similar activity... it wasn’t the same, not in his mind or in hers.

He’d sworn he would not accept help from anyone, he’d vowed to do this on his own, but that wouldn’t be the first vow he’d broken—not even the first on this long day. At least this time he had a somewhat noble cause.

Besides, improved living conditions would instill confidence in Lyssa’s father, who would be more willing to take his new son into the family business if he proved that he could care for her properly.

Perhaps his reasons were not so noble after all.

It was hours after he’d left Lyssa, and the sky was gray with morning light, when he knocked on a solid door far from the seedier section of town where he’d been spending his time since arriving in Arthes. He didn’t have to wait long before the knock was answered.

Blade looked down on a face he knew well. The expression there flitted from anger to confusion and finally to something that might have been relief.

“I need your help.”

***

Lyssa slept, and for the first time in a long while she did not dream at all. Instead of waking with a start and a scream, she stretched slowly, sighed, then burrowed in the blankets for a few precious moments.

She was married. A smile crossed her face. Perhaps it was not a real marriage, the way marriages were supposed to be, but she’d found a way around the old witch’s grim prediction and averted disaster. She would be Bad Luck Lyssa no more. Take
that
, Vellance.

As she lay there, after a few hours of deep, undisturbed sleep, she imagined the day ahead of her. Introducing Blade to her parents was going to be tricky. “I sneaked out of the house last night and married a stranger” was not going to go over well.

It was bad enough that they would find the unkempt man unsatisfactory, but if she explained how he’d come to her rescue last night in the tavern... then she would have to explain how she’d come to be in that tavern in the first place.

That had not been the wisest decision she’d made in her twenty-three years, but in the end... in the end...

In the end she’d found herself coupling in an alleyway with a stranger. Her husband, yes, but still a man she did not know. So why did the thought of those few moments of fumbling and physical connection make her insides heavy and itchy? Why did the memory of Blade Renshaw making her his wife cause her to squirm in her own bed?

“Perhaps because it is long past time you were made a wife, Lyssa Tempest,” she said softly as she sat up. No, not Tempest. She was now Lyssa
Renshaw
.

She washed, dressed, and presented herself for the morning meal with a smile on her face. While Sinmora made tea, Lyssa toasted yesterday’s bread over the fire. What she needed to do was arrange for Blade to have a bath and a new suit of clothes before she introduced him to her father and stepmother. Preferably a clean outfit that had not been stolen. Many men wore beards, but his was desperately in need of a trim. She wondered if he would allow her to cut his hair. She found herself humming a merry tune and turned to find her stepmother staring at her.

“Are you all right, dear?”

“It’s my birthday,” Lyssa said. “Can I not be happy?”

“Of course you can.” There was a fair amount of suspicion in those words.

Her father was as suspicious about her good mood as Sinmora had been, but somewhere between his toast and the dried figs, he apparently decided to accept his good fortune with a smile. In the past, there had been at least a week of self-pity and tears after a failed wedding.

They didn’t know that she’d beaten the prophecy, that she
was
a wife.

How to tell them, though... Not a single scenario seemed right. And really, why should she rush to tell them anything? While there had been a deadline on the marriage itself, sharing the news of that marriage could be done at any time, she supposed. Not that she was a coward, but such important news should be delivered in just the right way.

As she often did, Lyssa opened the store along with her father. The shop was next door to their home, and while it was small and always had been, Cyrus Tempest was known for offering fine goods at reasonable prices. Business had been slow lately, she admitted, thanks to a new merchant setting up shop in town, but so far they had managed to meet their needs. Still, with her own troubles behind her, she could see the worry on his face. He looked older, more haggard, and she felt guilty for getting so wrapped up in her own troubles that she hadn’t seen what was going on at home.

Was he worried about the baby, or had the decrease in business hurt more than he’d let on?

Surely he would welcome the news of her marriage, as he had welcomed the news of a baby. Life would go on as it should. She would do what she could to help his business and then she could start a new life knowing that he, and her stepmother and her brother or sister, were well off and happy.

And she... well, one step at a time.

Shortly after opening, Edine Lair—Lyssa’s greatest friend in the world—stepped into the shop, a baby on her hip, a toddler’s fat little hand clutched in hers. With child again, she never seemed tired or frustrated, no matter how hectic her life seemed to be. Her dark hair shone and was held perfectly in place. Her skin always had a fresh, healthy glow. As she walked into the shop, Edine caught Lyssa’s eye and grinned widely.

“I’m so sorry I missed the wedding! Yesterday was impossibly hectic.” Her easy smile widened. “And where is the lucky groom this morning?”

I have no idea....

Lyssa’s father groaned; Edine’s smile died quickly.

“Not again,” Edine said. “Lyssa!” She glanced around the small store, making sure there were no customers present to overhear. “What happened this time?”

“Kyran left me for a woman he met on the road.” The words didn’t hurt the way they had yesterday. She didn’t feel hate for Kyran or for the woman who had stolen his heart. She’d never loved him and he had never loved her, so his heart had been available for stealing, she supposed.

“Oh, no!” Edine rushed toward Lyssa. “And today is the day. You’re twenty-three! It’s too late!” Of all her friends, Edine had been the biggest believer in the prophecy. She had always been Lyssa’s most loyal supporter, the one shoulder available for crying upon when a potential groom died or ran off.

Like many Columbyanans, Edine was afraid of magic. Witches terrified her. In the minds of many, there was little difference in the powers of a witch—whether she declared herself good or bad—and those of the evil Isen Demon. After the war with that demon, many had turned their backs on magic altogether. Edine among them.

Edine shifted the baby and released the toddler’s hand to give Lyssa a hug. The hugs were not what they had once been, thanks to the baby and the huge belly and the fact that the eldest child took the opportunity of his newfound freedom to run toward a display of carved wooden boxes. He knew some of them played music.

Lyssa was getting ready to rush after him when she saw her father step in and intercept the child, lifting him with a smile.

He beamed at the boy, much happier than he’d been just moments earlier. The worry seemed to melt from his face, along with several of the years etched there. Perhaps he was already imagining his own son.

“I’m all right, truly,” Lyssa said, reassuring her friend. “What will be, will be.” She was anxious to tell Edine all about Blade, but not before she told her parents. And goodness knows the questions she wanted to ask her friend were not ones she could put forth in front of her father. A woman-to-woman talk was most definitely in order, and soon.

“That awful
awful
witch!” Edine whispered harshly.

Before the conversation could continue, the door opened, and all eyes shifted in the direction of the entrance. Lyssa’s heart took a strange little flip. Edine sighed, softly enough but in a manner totally unsuited to a happily married woman with two children and another on the way. The man who entered the shop was tall, and his raven black hair was pulled away from a strong face and back into a long, neat braid. He was clean shaven, with a proper chin and a nicely sharp jawline. He was not pretty, not at all, but his face was masculine and very nicely arranged, she had to admit. It was a man’s face, strong and... interesting. His suit was plain, but well made of fine material; his boots were polished. There was something intriguing about the way he moved, with strength and a masculine grace that spoke to the woman in her.

Why could she not have met
him
last night?

As that thought crossed her mind he looked at her and squinted a bit, narrowing his gaze like a hawk honing in on its prey. With a start she recognized those eyes. No other man had eyes like those, brilliant blue and disturbing. She
had
met him last night. This intriguing, handsome man was her husband.

Chapter Six

Blade watched as recognition dawned on his wife’s face. Recognition and surprise. She was so easy to read. It was if every thought that passed through her brain was instantly transferred to her face. Only an honest person could be so open. He hadn’t known anyone truly honest in a very long time.

Once Lyssa’s surprise passed, she began to panic. She didn’t squeal or jump up and down, but that panic was visible in her eyes and the flushing of her cheeks, and in the way her delicate fingers fluttered. She didn’t move, other than those fingers, and she didn’t say a word. She looked as if she wanted to screech, but she did not. Obviously she hadn’t told her father—a busy man who stood just a few feet away—about her marriage, then. She looked Blade in the eye and shook her head quickly, barely moving it side to side.

By the light of day, last night’s plan must seem foolish to her. They were married, she was well and truly his wife. Still, perhaps she wasn’t prepared to proceed as they had planned. He read her expression, seeing all too clearly that as she stood there and stared, wide-eyed, she was formulating yet another plan in her mind.

It would be easy enough to fabricate a brief courtship, then go through yet another wedding ceremony, one her parents could be a part of. He imagined that would be preferable, from Lyssa’s point of view, to simply announcing that they were married and then taking on the questions about the hows and the whys.

But he no longer had the time for such a game. He’d learned just that morning that Volker would soon be traveling to Tryfyn to meet with their Foreign Minister. If he didn’t move fast, he would lose this opportunity.

Lyssa stepped toward him quickly, her chin up, her eyes bright. She was even prettier by the light of day than she had looked last night, well-rested and not nearly as worried as she’d been then. She shook her head again, so slightly no one but he could see the movement, as she stopped directly before him. Her eyes widened a bit more when they met his. He half expected her jaw to drop. She was still surprised.