Sara glanced at Cullen’s back from where she rode in a steady gait a few feet behind him. He was far from a foolish man and far more courageous than most. He had dared the wrath of a powerful earl to find his son. She admired his bravery and selflessness. He had proved that he would do anything to find his son—after all, he’d wed her.
She hadn’t liked the thought of forcing him to marry her, especially so soon after losing the woman he loved, but in a way, it proved advantageous for them both. Neither actually wanted to wed or remain wed. A purpose would be served, a deed done, and a marriage ended. It was simple, a perfect union with a perfect solution.
She had admired the way he dealt fairly with the farmer who stabled his horse, offering more than a fair price for the mare he’d purchased for her. While kind in his dealings, there was strength in his actions, confidence in his stance, purpose in his silence, and he loved tenaciously.
He was an impressive man and he intrigued her.
She winced. Not good, she warned herself. Not good to let this man intrigue her. They had a business arrangement and then he would be gone. Besides, she wasn’t exactly in his good graces.
How then would it go when he bed her?
The thought sent a shiver through her. She would have to remind herself it was just part of their bargain, an important part for her. It would be over and done before she knew it. He or she had no desire to make it any more than that.
The day wore on with few words exchanged between them. Sara let him have his silence. She surmised that the day hadn’t gone quite as he expected; after all, he now had a wife. Dusk finally had them stopping for the night and making camp before dark claimed the land. While Cullen saw to the horses, she built a fire.
They worked in companionable silence, each settling on separate blankets on opposite sides of the campfire. Cullen divided chunks of cheese and bread and they shared a pouch of wine.
By then Sara had enough silence. She’d lived in almost relative silence for two years, and yearned to talk with someone. Who better than her new husband?
“You gave that farmer a generous price for the mare,” she said, breaking off a smaller piece of cheese.
Cullen shrugged. “He needed it. I had it to give.”
“You have coins to spare?” She had noticed the freshness of his garments, and his fine stallion must have been costly.
“I have my fair share.”
Wealth, but no title. Is that what had kept him from claiming Alaina as his? No power, no importance. The Earl of Balford was known for his powerful connections. What better way to accrue more than having his daughter marry power?
Her curiosity, not to mention her blunt nature, had her asking, “Family wealth?”
He stopped chewing, stared at her a moment, then returned to chewing and answered with a simple nod.
So, he intended to keep his business to himself. She’d see about that. She had a way of finding out about people without them even realizing it. She turned to a topic she was certain Cullen would discuss—his son.
“Alexander is not far from where we go.”
Cullen’s head snapped up and his dark eyes near bored into her.
She got him with that, and intended to keep his interest while doing a little digging. “He’s safe, as I’ve repeatedly told you, and he’ll be in your arms as soon as our bargain is sealed.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “How did you track your son to Stilmere Abbey? I would have thought the earl would have closely guarded what he thought of as his daughter’s indiscretion.”
“Coins quickly open sealed mouths, especially when they’re hungry.”
Coins again, she thought. He seemed to have an unlimited supply.
Suddenly, it seemed he was eager to explain. “Though it took a while,” he said, “no one was forthcoming at first. Once I began throwing coins around, people began to talk, in whispers, of course. All feared the wrath of the Earl of Balford, and since I knew his evil ways all too well, I didn’t dare place anyone in such danger. One person connected me with another then another, which finally brought me to Stilmere. I was amazed at how intricately the earl had worked his maze so that none would know my son’s birthplace.”
“Not even Alaina,” Sara said in gentle reverence.
Cullen tossed the last small chunk of bread in the flames. “After her—”
He took a breath and sank briefly into what Sara could only imagine was a heart-wrenching memory.
When he spoke again, it was with renewed strength. “I wondered why Alaina had never told me where she had given birth to our son. Then I discovered she herself hadn’t known where she was taken.”
“I heard she pleaded with all who tended her to tell her where she was,” Sara confirmed.