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Absolute silence ensued. A single, horrible idea blossomed in Simon's numb brain. What he had done amounted to raping his own wife. The thought paralyzed him so that when Alinor pushed at him feebly he could not move. |
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"Simon," she said calmly if somewhat breathlessly, "get off me. You weigh like a tun." |
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The calm tone and practical observation galvanized him into action as effectively as a cold douche. He not only rolled off but sat up and drew back the bed-curtains so that he could see Alinor's face. Alinor closed her eyes. |
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"I am sorry," Simon whispered. |
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Alinor opened her eyes again quickly. "For what?" |
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"II forced you. I cannot think what came over me. I" |
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Alinor giggled. "Oh. I thought you were apologizing for your performance. I have no way of judging, of course, but in my lack of experience I was well content." |
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"Alinor!" Simon protested, not sure whether he was more horrified at her unmaidenly lack of modesty or more relieved at her lack of resentment over his violence. |
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She sobered and reached a hand toward him. "But Simon, I should not have resisted you. I did not wish to resist you, onlyonly everything was so strange. It was such a strange wedding and bedding that I You, yourself, seemed like a stranger to me. And these last weeks have been so horrible." Simon had taken her hand and lay down again. Now Alinor pulled her hand away. Her voice sharpened. "And you were horrible too! Why did you not answer my letters? What did you mean when you said you had nothing to write? Do not spin me cobwebs about there being any danger for a messenger riding between Jaffa and Acre! Having the King's permission to take me to wife, was it no longer worthwhile to write a few sweet words to please me?" |
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