Quinn was snared. He wished to confess all to his new wife, but was not at all certain that the truth would gain her support. Filling any gaps in Melissande’s knowledge might cast his own merit in doubt. “What did my father do to make you despise him so?”
“You must know.”
“I have my suspicions. Let us tell each other the truth this night, my lady, and for each day and night after this.”
Their gazes held for a moment and there was uncertainty in her fine eyes. How Quinn wished he could dispel it forever.
Then she took a breath, squaring her shoulders, her stance becoming regal. He already recognized that she stood thus when she felt obliged to do something she would rather not, and he admired her strength of will.
She was much stronger than his mother had been.
The realization was sta
