Furysong (The Aurelian Cycle, #3)

by Rosaria Munda

“Yesterday I went to the courthouse in Harfast and named you heir to this estate, with Nigel as my witness. Obviously, the house will need some fixing up, after today,” he adds, like this only just occurred to him. I’ve choked on the tea. “You named me your heir?” “Just in case,” Lee says in a rush. “I figured if I’m going to be officially dead, I might as well put my affairs in order. Anyway, highland inheritance laws are tricky, particularly with women, so the language of the paperwork is that you would—in that case—be my . . . widow.” My fingers are curling around the cup. The gray sky is light enough to cast blurred shadows on the wooden table. Lee is looking somewhere south of my elbow, a flush creeping up his neck. “You put it in writing”—my voice shakes—“that we’re wed.” “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have. It was just a matter of paperwork—” “Why didn’t you ask me?” Lee swallows, pinching fingers to his nose, and looks down. “I would have said yes,” I breathe. Lee breathes in slowly once, then out. “I know you would have.” He finally looks at me. “But I didn’t want to be the reason you forswore your vows. Not now, not when you need to—” He breaks off as if this line of thinking hits a brick wall, and I hear him swallow. His hands fold over mine, and close on the silver-and-gold wristband. “I just wanted it to be in writing, somewhere. I wanted it to be in writing that it was you. For me. It’s always been you.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it. “And I know...