Free The Woman Inside by Autumn Dawn Page B

offered for five women ... how fickle was
that? She pulled back, took a deep breath. “Perhaps I’m not convinced of your
sincerity.”
    “You want to be convinced? Find me a priest right now.” He’d had enough of
testing women against his mother. Far better to lock them into wedlock
first.
    Tension built in Ceylon’s features. “So you can swear your undying love?”
    That made him blink. Had he promised love?
    “I didn’t think so,” she said heavily. She stood. “Good night, my lord.”
    “Ceylon--”
    “Good night.”
     
    * * * *
     
    “What did you do to make her mad?”
    Uric took his eyes from the black river. The chunks of ice were small yet,
but soon it would freeze, making travel this way impossible. Cold steam rose
from the waters, fogging the gray winter’s light.
    School was in session in the middle of the boat, for Ceylon had set out
writing materials on a crate and was seated on a smaller one, teaching Raven to
write.
    She never glanced Uric’s way.
    Feigning indifference, Uric ignored her in kind and said in the same discreet
tone, “Why?”
    Arms crossed, Roland stared him down with his one good eye, his hair stirred
by the wind of their passage. “Give.”
    There was no point ignoring him. Without visible distress, Uric said simply,
“I asked her to be my bride. She refused.”
    Roland’s eye widened. “She refused? But why?”
    Annoyed all over again, Uric scanned the opposite bank, seeking distraction.
“She claimed some need of love.”
    “And you told her you didn’t have any?” Roland demanded incredulously and
bopped him on the head like an erring boy.
    Uric’s hand automatically gripped his sword hilt, a reflexive move, for he
didn’t draw it. It was the first time since his youth that anyone had dared to
make so light with him.
    But Roland hadn’t finished. “Are you daft man? That title gone to your head?
You don’t propose marriage and then tell the woman you have no feelings for her!
How did you ever find a bride before this?”
    Uric’s shoulders hunched. “The subject never came up.” Even he could hear the
petulance in his voice.
    Eye rolling, Roland shook his head. “I’ll be traveling on this bride quest
with you until I’m an old man, won’t I?” Before Uric could say a word, Roland
gripped his shoulder and turned him to look at Ceylon. “That’s as fine a woman
as you’ll ever find and you know it. Saints know we’ve traveled the land and
seen plenty of the wrong kind of woman. Swallow your pride and make her yours,
man. Whatever you have to do will be small price to pay.” He squeezed Uric’s
shoulder for emphasis and then left him alone to think.
    Whether he liked to admit it or not, Uric knew his friend was right. Maybe
the title had gone to his head, for he knew he’d botched it with Ceylon. Still,
who knew she’d react so strongly? None of his other brides had ever had the
least consideration for his feelings for them. They’d wanted his title. It was a
small shock to discover that it meant nothing to Ceylon.
    Which only proved that she was the right one for him. But how to win her?
Judging by her chilly behavior, regaining her favor would be no easy thing. What
did women want when they were in a snit?
    Raven’s buttons came to mind, and he smiled. Of course! Gifts. If she felt so
strongly about wooden buttons, how much more would she like the courting gifts
he’d brought for the lady Anne?
    Winning her favor would be a snap.
     
    * * * *
     
    “A fan?” Ceylon stared at him as if he were slightly mad. “It’s freezing out
here, Ur—my lord.”
    He frowned. All right, so a fan hadn’t been the greatest choice, but he’d had
surprisingly little to work with. A man simply didn’t hand a woman jewels, and
the ivory fan had been his best bet.
    At least she’d almost forgotten to call him ‘my lord’.
    “It’s Uric,” he persisted, and patiently held out the fan. “And you never
know when