The Marriage Parley

CHAPTER FIVE

Margaret hoped she hadn't erred in trusting Richard with the information about John. It certainly put her at a disadvantage going forward. Her adversary now understood the depth of her desperation.

Yet, she trusted Richard in a manner that made no sense. Their families had been enemies since before both their births. Certainly, de Guilles blood stained his hands. But she sensed no duplicity in Richard.

Or perhaps desperation tainted her thinking.

In truth, she would concede to every term he placed on her before she married John. The man made her flesh crawl. She knew his kind. They were interested only in stamping their dominion over a wife.

She had lived that hell before, and she refused to do it again. To buy a few moments to compose her thoughts, she stoked the fire and refilled their goblets.

Taking her seat under Richard's constant scrutiny, she feigned a lack of concern. "Let us proceed."

Richard nodded. "I see this as a two-part negotiation."

"Two parts?" Margaret could not see that. His words put her on her guard. Was it now that Richard would make his true intentions clear?

"Let us get to the first and most important part," he said and shifted his weight. "Speak to me not as your enemy house, but speak to me as your future husband. What would you have from me as a husband?"

He'd struck her dumb for a moment.

"You were married before." Richard gentled his tone. "I am guessing it was not an experience you would choose to repeat. Tell me how I can make our marriage different."

"Fear." The word burst from her. "I would never want to fear you."

His face filled with regret. "Why would you fear me, Maggie?"

"You cannot understand." This had to be one of the strangest conversations she had ever had with a man, but she had come this far. "You hold all the power in a marriage. I am given to you mind, body, and soul, and I have no say in what you do to me and with me. You may do what you will, and nobody will interfere or stop you."

"It is a woman's lot," he said.

Spoken like a man. "Which does not make it palatable."

He nodded. "I can see that. Tell me what promises I can make to set your mind at ease."

"Promises!" She almost fell about laughing. "They are only good if you intend to keep your word. Men make vows to the death to each other, but the ones they make to women are as flimsy as a spiderweb."

He stared at her for a long moment. She might have gone too far, pushed him too far, but best she found out now and not once she was tied to him by marriage vows.

Placing his fist on his chest, he said, "I, Richard of Elford, swear to you, Lady Margaret, my soon to be lady wife, that I will never raise my hand to you in anger. I will never beat you, or so much as clasp your hand roughly."

He surprised her into a long silence, and dear Lord, she wanted to believe him. Surely, she could not be fortunate enough to contract such a marriage. "What if I anger you beyond bearing?"

"Then I might bellow and bluster at you." His brief smile disappeared again. "But I will never raise my hand to you. I do not beat my men, my dogs, or even my horses. Why would I lay my hand on someone who is infinitely more precious to me than all those?"

"I almost believe you mean it." Margaret was idiotic for even considering he might be trusted. Safely behind wedding vows, most men turned into beasts. Although she had met a few, a meager few, who were different. Men who treated their wives as precious beyond measure. How would that feel? To her father, she had been a prize to be offered to the highest bidder, her beauty increasing her value. To her husband, she had been a servant and her body his vessel to impregnate. And to the king, she was a bargaining tool, a way to secure his peace and augment his power.