"My brother's snake wasn't poisonous."
"Oh, God."
The tremble in her husband's voice made her laugh. "Father was soon over his anger. The shaman announced that the spirits had protected me. I was their lioness, you see. Mama said Father was also sorry for making me cry. He took me riding with him that afternoon and let me sit on his lap during the evening meal."
The parallel was too good to pass up. "Your father was frightened," Lyon announced. "He loved you, Christina-so much so that when he saw the danger you were in, his discipline deserted him. Just like my discipline deserted me when I saw the danger you were in yesterday."
He dragged her up on top of him so he could look into her eyes. "It was his duty to keep my lioness safe for me."
Christina slowly nodded. "I think you would like my father. You're very like him in many ways. You're just as arrogant. Oh, don't frown, Lyon. I give you a compliment when I say you're arrogant. You're full of bluster, too."
She sounded too sincere for Lyon to take insult. "What is your father's name?" he asked.
"Black Wolf."
"Will he like me?"
"No."
He wasn't insulted by her abrupt answer. In truth, he was close to laughing. "Care to tell me why not?"
"He hates the whites. Doesn't trust them."
"That's why you have such a suspicious nature, isn't it?"
"Perhaps."
She rested the side of her face against Lyon 's shoulder.
"You're still a little suspicious of me, too, aren't you?"
"I don't know," she admitted with a sigh.
"I trust you, my sweet. Completely."
She didn't show any reaction.
"Christina, I want equal measure. I will have your trust. And not just for a day or two. Those are my terms."
She slowly lifted her head to stare at Lyon. "And if I'm unable to meet your terms?" she asked.
He saw the worry in her eyes. "You tell me," he whispered.
"You'll set me aside," she whispered.
He shook his head. "No."
"No? Then what?"
He wanted to kiss her frown away. "I'll wait. I'll still love you. In your heart you really don't believe me, do you? You think you'll do something to displease me and I'll quit loving you. It won't happen, Christina."
She was humbled by his fervent words. "I worry." Her confession was whispered in a forlorn voice. "There are times when I don't think I shall ever fit in. I'm like a circle trying to squeeze into a square."
"Everyone feels like that at times," Lyon told her, smiling over her absurd analogy. "You're vulnerable. Are there times when you still want to go home?"
His hands caressed her shoulders while he waited for her answer. "I couldn't leave you," she answered. "And I couldn't take you back with me. You're my family now, Lyon." Her frown intensified. "It really isn't going to be easy for you, living with me."
"Marriage is never easy in the beginning," he answered. "We both have to learn to compromise. In time we'll understand each other's needs."
"Your family and your staff will think me odd."
"They already do."
Her frown was forced now, and a sparkle appeared in her eyes. "That was unkind of you to say," she told him.
"No, it was an honest admission. They think I'm odd, too. Do you care so much what others think of you, Christina?"
She shook her head. "Only you, Lyon. I care what you think."
He showed her how pleased he was to hear her admission by kissing her.
"I also care what you think," Lyon whispered. "Will my shoes be lining the steps outside again?"
"The old ways are familiar to me," Christina explained. "I was so angry with you. It was all I could think to do to make you realize how unhappy you'd made me."
"Thank God you didn't try to leave me."
"Try?"
"You know I'd chase you down and drag you back where you belong."
"Yes, I knew you would. You are a warrior, after all."
Lyon moved Christina to his side, determined to finish their conversation before making love to her again. Her hand moved to his thigh. It was a distraction. Lyon captured both her hands and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Christina? Did you ever love another man? Was there someone back home who captured your heart?"
Her head was tucked under his chin. Christina smiled, knowing Lyon couldn't see her reaction. He'd tensed against her after he'd asked the question. He hadn't been able to keep the worry out of his voice.
He was letting her see his vulnerability. "When I was very young, I thought I'd grow up and marry White Eagle. Then, when I was seven summers or so, I put those silly thoughts aside. He was my brother, after all."
"Was there anyone else?"
"No. Father wouldn't let any of the warriors walk with me. He knew I had to return to the whites. My destiny had already been decided."
"Who decided your destiny?" Lyon asked.
"The dream."
Christina waited for his next question, but after a minute or two, when she realized he wasn't going to ask her to explain, she decided to tell him anyway.
She wanted him to understand.
The story of the shaman's journey to the top of the mountain to seek his vision captured Lyon 's full attention.
The dream made him smile. "If your mother hadn't called you a lioness, would the shaman ever have-"
"He would have sorted it all out," Christina interrupted. "I had white-blond hair and blue eyes, just like the lion in his dream. Yes, he would have sorted it out. Do you understand now how confused I was when Sir Reynolds called you Lyon? I knew in that moment that I had found my mate."
The logical part of Lyon 's mind saw all the flaws in the dream, the superstitions of the rituals. Yet he easily pushed reason aside. He didn't care if it didn't make sense. "I knew in that moment, too, that you'd belong to me."
"Both of us fought it, didn't we, Lyon?"
"That we did, love."
Christina laughed. "You never stood a fair chance, husband. Your fate had already been decided."
Lyon nodded. "Now it's your turn to ask me questions. Would you like me to tell you about Lettie?"
Christina tried to look up at Lyon, but he wouldn't let her move. "Do you want to tell me about her?" she asked, her voice hesitant.
"Yes, I do. Now ask me your questions," he commanded, his voice soft.
"Did you love her?"
"Not in the same way I love you. I was never… content. I was too young for marriage. I realize that now."
"What was she like?"
"The complete opposite of you," Lyon answered. "Lettie enjoyed the social whirl of the ton. She hated this house, the countryside. Lettie loved intrigue. I was working with Richards then. The war was coming, and I was away from home quite a lot. My brother, James, escorted Lettie to various events. While I was away, he took her to his bed."
Her indrawn breath told him she understood. Lyon had wanted to tell Christina about his first wife so that she would see how much he trusted her. Yet now that the telling had begun, the anger he'd held inside him for so long began to fade. That realization surprised him. His explanation wasn't hesitant now. "Lettie died in childbirth. The babe also. It wasn't my child, Christina. James was the father. I remember how I sat next to my wife, trying to give her comfort. God, she was in terrible pain. I pray you'll never have to endure it. Lettie wasn't aware that I was there. She kept screaming for her lover."
Christina felt like weeping. The pain of his brother's betrayal must have been unbearable. She didn't understand. How could a wife shame her husband in such a way?
She hugged Lyon but decided against offering him additional sympathy. He was a proud man. "Were you and your brother close to each other before his betrayal?" she asked.
"No."
Christina scooted away from Lyon so she could see his expression. His gaze showed only his puzzlement over her question. Lettie's sin no longer affected him, she decided.
"You never gave Lettie your heart," she announced. "It's your brother you've yet to forgive, isn't it, Lyon?"
He was amazed by her perception. "Were you close to James?" she asked again.
"No. We were very competitive when we were younger. I grew out of that nonsense, but my brother obviously didn't."
"I wonder if James wasn't like Lancelot," she whispered, "from the story of Camelot."
"And Lettie was my Guinevere?" he asked, his smile gentle.
"Perhaps," Christina answered. "Would it make his deception easier to bear if you believed it wasn't a deliberate sin?"
"It wouldn't be the truth. James wasn't Lancelot. My brother took what he wanted, when he wanted it, regardless of the consequences. He never really grew up," Lyon ended.
She ignored the harshness in his voice. "Perhaps your mama wouldn't let him," she said.
"Speaking of my mother," Lyon began with a sigh, "you have a plan to keep her here?"
"I do."
"Hell. How long?"
"Quit frowning. She'll stay with us until she wishes to leave. Of course, we have to make her want to stay first," she qualified. "I have a plan to help her, Lyon. Together we'll draw her back into the family. Your mama feels responsible for your brother's death."
"Why do you say that?" Lyon asked.