Chapter 402: Fighting Back (Part One)
"I never asked him to kill her!" Jocelynn shrieked, standing up from her chair with enough force to knock it over and slamming her petite fists down on the table hard enough to make the dinnerware jump. Tears flowed freely from her eyes and her heart thudded in her chest like the powerful storm raging outside the glass windows but she didn’t care as she lashed out at the middle-aged Marquis.
"He didn’t, he didn’t need to kill her," she sobbed. "All he had to do was see the mark for himself and refuse to consummate the marriage. Then, then we could have fixed things. We could have talked about what to do, together, as one big family. But he..."
"And yet you say you love him anyway," Bors snorted.
"I do love him!" Jocelynn insisted. "I, I love him more than anything in this world and I would do anything for him. Anything to help him become the first Duke of Lothian March, to bear him sons to inherit his throne, I would do all of those things for him and more because I. I. Love. Him," she said, emphasizing her final words as strongly as she could while trying to reign in the tears that flooded from her eyes.
"Silly girl," Bors said. Slowly, he stood from his chair, walked over to her, and pulled a handkerchief from a pocket to dab at her eyes with. "What did my foolish son ever do for you to earn this much adoration and devotion from you? Hmmm? What has he done to capture your heart."
"He, he’s a hero," Jocelynn said, looking at the suddenly tender Marquis with moist eyes that trembled in confusion. "He’s brave and strong and the greatest hero of his generation. No one can compare to him," she said. Her voice trembled as she spoke but she didn’t understand why Bors would ask such a question. The way he said it made it sound like he didn’t think Owain was worthy of her when she was the one who had to work so hard, just to be worthy of him.
"He could have anyone in the world as his bride, but he wants me," she added in a very small voice.
"He’s a strong fighter, I’ll give him that," Bors said, stepping behind Jocelynn to lift her seat up off the floor and placing it back upright at her spot at the table. "Sit, Jocelynn," he said, gesturing to her chair.
"Don’t try anything funny. No clever words, no pouting looks, I’m far too old for both of those. If you’re going to marry one of my sons, then I will treat you like a daughter-in-law," he said as he returned to his own seat. "But at the moment, you’re a daughter-in-law that has yet to earn my trust or approval. You understand?"
"Yes, my lord," she said, using the handkerchief to tidy herself up as best she could. "How can I earn your trust?"