Bessie Read Free Page B

beauty, and she knew how to dress a man for showing it off. Bessie swallowed before she choked. She’d best keep her thoughts where they belonged. She tried to counsel herself, but another part of her kept repeating that he was her husband. Hers. To look over at will, and mentally review anytime she wished.
    Oh. She could grow fond of that.
    He hadn’t grown a beard, which was surprising, for they were the style. Looking over the smooth surface of the cheek facing her, Bessie was rather glad he didn’t sport facial hair. It would mask his beauty.
    Oh! This was amazing. What she’d not thought possible had actually happened to her!
    She’d been wed to a man who was a delight on the senses. He had striking features, amazing coloring, and a deep voice. Looking him over, she couldn’t find one ugly piece of him. He had thick dark hair, a strong chin, and lengthy, well-muscled legs. She could only imagine what the hidden parts of him looked like.
    “Sweet heaven!”
    Bessie would have slapped her hands to her mouth to stop the words, but knew it was too late. She could tell he’d heard her, too, for he slid a sidelong glance at her.
    She took a deep breath and started speaking before she lost her nerve. “Very well. Bessie it is, then. That is rather a shame. I would prefer Liza, or something romantic-sounding, had I the choice.”
    He turned his head. This time, as he looked at her, the color of his eyes was difficult to see. It wasn’t due to any lack of light. It was because he’d narrowed his eyes and he had spectacularly long lashes, too.
    “There’s nothing romantic about you.”
    Bessie sucked in air, knowing he’d hear. It took her some moments to find her voice. “There’s no need for insults,” she replied.
    “I mean no insult. I am stating fact. That is the least we can be with each other. Truthful. Honest. Yes?”
    “Yes,” she replied.
    “Accept the consequences, then. You insist on speaking when I give every indication to leave me be. Very well, I shall speak. But you may not like what I say.”
    “Oh. I dislike it already.”
    A slight smile crossed his lips, although it could have been a smirk as easily. It was difficult to tell, as swollen as his lips were. “Perhaps you’ll grant me silence, then?”
    “It wasn’t I that asked for your hand in marriage, my lord.”
    Bessie thrust her chin out. She’d been told she was stubborn. It came along with the red hair she kept hidden. Her stubborn streak was something she regretted from time to time. Taunting her new husband could easily turn out to be one of those times.
    “Think before you speak, Mistress. I will not be responsible for my words when I answer.”
    “Do you have a problem with your hearing? I have pointed out the obvious and you avoid answering. I’ll repeat myself. Did you, or did you not, request my hand in wedlock this very day?”
    “If I answer that, it will be another insult.”
    “Oh. Insult away, my fine husband.”
    “It was your hand, or my presence in the Tower. I’ve yet to decide the lesser evil.”
    Bessie’s earlier thoughts turned to ashes in her mouth. She swallowed around the dryness. “Her Majesty did not purchase your company for your wits, did she? Don’t answer that. It’s painfully obvious. You haven’t any.”
    He smiled crookedly this time. The swollen part of his upper lip curled as he did so, making it an ugly gesture. “I begin to think I should have chosen the Tower, after all.”
    “Her Tower has little in creature comforts,” Bessie whispered.
    “Creature comforts are the least of my troubles, Mistress. You ask what I shall call you, and there it is:  Mistress. It’s an apt word, and helps mute the horror of my day.”
    “The horror of your day? What of last night?”
    “Certain experiences pale in comparison, I’m finding.”
    An unpleasant shiver raced her back as she stared at her tightly clasped hands. Even seen through her white veil, her dress material was drab. She