The Iron Princess (24 page)

“I get the point, Kat,” he said in a kinder tone than she deserved.

“I wanted my life to have purpose and I thought, foolishly, that I could truly save my brother.” She let out a defeated sigh. “But I see now that it was all vanity. Delusions of grandeur, arrogance, overreaching, immodest—”

“Kat, I get it.”

“I was so worried about Urho and his family that I tossed aside loyalty to my own family, loyalty to you. It was so very wrong. So wrong and . . . and I . . . I did not protect your babe. Our babe.” Tears rained down her cheeks, but she would not allow them to halt her apology. “My wretchedness and stupidity killed our child and I completely understand if you never forgive me for that. I will never forgive me for that, but I still need to say I’m sorry.”

“You did not kill our child,” he said in hushed tone. “How long had you known you were increasing?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t know, not till—it is no excuse. I should have. My mother is always increasing. I know the signs, but I just did not—”

“I knew.”

“You couldn’t have. I didn’t.”

“You can navigate your ship by the northern stars but you do not keep track of your monthly courses. You missed them twice, Kat. You lost several meals due to a nervous stomach, which you never had before. Your breasts were more tender when I touched them. I was waiting for you to tell me.” He rubbed her back and gave her time to breathe. His arms circled her and he gently tugged her out of her chair and into his lap. The months of suppressed tears rained onto Lothair’s broad shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she wept. “I forced you to wed me. I’m sorry for that too. You are just too noble and good a man to ever push me away.”

Lothair did not wipe away her tears, understanding that they needed to be released. “I have my share of failings as a husband. You are, in fact, an immeasurably brave woman, and that frightens the hell out of me. You have a tendency to plow straight ahead with your own plans, but that can only reflect poorly on my management of you.”

She snorted. “Management? When have you ever tried to manage me?”

“My point exactly. A good leader leads his best swordswoman with an air of comrades in arms, not as a dictator. I should have accepted that you do have certain . . . talents for defense and strategy. I should have included you. You would never turn against one of your fellow soldiers, would you?”

She wiped her eyes and looked up, astonished at what he was saying. She shook her head.

“I didn’t think so.” He kissed her temple. “My wife, a soldier through and through. At times I am going to be the leader of this family, Katia, and you will need to trust and rely on me. Other times, I will look to you to take the lead in areas where you excel, but it will all start with trust.”

She nodded and flung her arms around his neck, overwhelmed by what he had said. He wanted her on his team. He still wanted her.

“Oh, Lothair, I am going to make you the very best wife.” She kissed madly across his cheeks and down his neck. “Grandmother was right. ‘
Only by joy and sorrow does a person know anything about themselves and their destiny.
’ I know you will learn to be the very best husband for me.”

“I will learn?” He pushed her away and arched his brow. She was smiling at him wickedly. “You’re the one that needs the learning.”

“Oh shut up, Lothair, you grouchy lout, you are ruining my reunion.” She beamed with expanding joy.

***

Lothair could not argue with this woman for a second more. He pulled her toward him and kissed her tenderly. “I love you more than life, more than air, more than the sea itself, Katia. I will learn to tame you yet. The effort it will take will be worth the exercise.”

“What! Worth the exercise! Tame me!” She pushed up off his lap and he pulled her back down astride him.

Lothair locked one arm around her waist and the other around her back, holding her in place. She fought, wiggling and straining against him, both passion and mischief in her eyes. “Tame me then, my little iron princess. I challenge you to try,” he whispered against her lips.

She pulled his hair, locking her arm around his shoulders. “Oh, I will tame you. And I believe I will quite enjoy it.”

Sandra Lake
is the author of
The Warlord’s Wife
. She was raised in rural Canada and married her childhood sweetheart (who, like the heroes of her novels, is blond and on occasion shirtless). They are currently living happily-ever-after along with their musical sons and unruly husky.

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