A Thief for a Bride

Thief for a Bride (chapter nine - The Party)

Desmond was completely content with staying in his warm bed, safe from the chilly room, and sleeping the afternoon away but his butler refused to let him do any such thing. He knocked loudly on the door before announcing himself and entering. Desmond sat up to glare at the old man before sighing and letting his head hit the pillow again. 

"Why did I ever let Jean-Luc talk me into this?" he wondered aloud as he stared at the ceiling. 

"Because he is your friend, my lord," Edgar said simply as a small smile curved his lips, "and I think you mean to impress someone." 

"Who?" Desmond asked. "The only people who will be there are those who hate me, including Claude! On second thought, scratch that, they don't hate me they hate the fact that I'm Irish!" 

"I meant a certain young lady," Edgar replied motioning towards Genevieve's room. Desmond threw a pillow at him which he caught with ease and set it down on top of the trunk. "Don't worry, my lord. She is already awake and downstairs with Isabel, getting ready for the party tonight, as should you. She was surprised she didn't wake you when she left her room. She said, and I quote, you were 'sleeping like a rock'." This made Desmond smile. At least his wife had a sense of humor, now if only he could make her hate him less. 

"Try being kind to her, sir," Edgar said and Desmond sat bolt upright. "Pardon me sir, but being your loyal servant for this long has made you incredibly easy to read. Try doing something nice for her, she might open up to you." Desmond pursed his lips thoughtfully before getting out of bed and throwing on a robe and heading for the door. "Where are you going?" 

"To see my wife," Desmond replied as he walked out the door. He headed down the tower stairs towards the room Genevieve had used to ready herself for their wedding. He found Isabel waiting outside the door and notice she looked surprised when she saw him. "Where is she?" 

"She asked me to wait out her while she bathed," Isabel explained. "She said she wanted some time alone." Desmond put a finger to his lips as he turned the handle on the door and Isabel nodded. He entered the room quietly and found her sitting in a tub by the fireplace but could not see her past the privacy screen. It was probably better that way. As shy as his wife seemed to be she would probably never forgive him for staring at her. He closed the door behind him and it made a loud click. 

"I'm almost done, Isabel," Genevieve said quietly. "I just need one more minute." 

"Good, that's all I need too," Desmond said as he sat down on the floor with his back to the screen. He heard water splash around in the tub and knew he had startled her. 

"Have you ever heard of privacy?" she hissed. 

"It's not like I can see you," he replied. 

"What do you want?" Genevieve said curtly. 

"I wanted to say I'm sorry I've been such a cruel husband," he said honestly. "You don't deserve anything I've put you through and I'm going to make it up to you." Genevieve was quiet for a moment and Desmond thought his effort was all for naught. 

"I don't need anything," she replied but softened her voice and added, "Just try to be somewhat of a gentleman tonight." Desmond laughed. 

"I will try," he promised but still felt it wasn't enough. He suddenly had an idea that made perfect sense but he would have to work quickly if he was to get it done. "I have to leave but I'll be back in time to walk into the ballroom with you." 

"I can't wait," Genevieve said dryly as Desmond left the room. 

* * * 

Genevieve swore she would never understand men as long as she lived. One minute they hated you and the next they wanted you to forgive them for everything they had done. Giovanni had had a bit of a temper but had never been so indecisive and Crispin had always been nice to everyone. So what was Desmond's problem? She decided to just let the issue go with the conclusion that she really would never understand the opposite sex and concentrated on the celebration that evening. Normally, when getting ready, she would have welcomed any help from Isabel but if she were to let Isabel see the bruise on her chest there was no lie Isabel would believe.