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the rest of his
countrymen? What of the queen? And while a man might be honourable enough when
his temper was calm, what of when he was angered? She had seen how Lorenzo
could go from perfectly placid to violently angry in mere moments. Could she
expect that from Henry?
    Whatever the riddle of his character was, she
would keep her guard up. It would not do to let herself be vulnerable.
    “You should go back to your room now.”
    The image of dark wood closing in around her, of
those heavy drapes wrapping around her and threatening to strangle her acted
like a noose around her neck. She shook her head. “ No , por favor .”
    “You cannot stay here.”
    She knew that. She didn’t wish to stay here—in
the same room as her enemy. But to go back there...
    “Candles,” she managed to squeak out. Mayhap if
there was enough light, the strange room would not seem so daunting. She
doubted she’d sleep but at least she wouldn’t be trapped in a nightmare.
    “You need candles?”
    “ Si . Lots.”
    A dark brow lifted and he seemed to consider her
words before nodding. He stood and snatched up several of the unlit candles
from the various surfaces. Then he motioned for her to follow. She climbed out
of his bed and wrapped her arms about her. Henry handed her a lit candle.
Antonia couldn’t help but hide behind his wide shoulders as they stepped out
into the hallway. The flickering candlelight only emphasised the dark shadows
of the unknown house and she was all too aware that one puff or a single
whistle of wind and the only light source would be snuffed out. Her hands
shook.
    Henry pushed open the door to her chamber and
began placing the candles on various surfaces. Antonia saw now that there were
two already on either side of the bed and two more on candelabrums on the other
side of the room. Not enough, however. She needed every corner lit. It was hard
enough to sleep in her own bedchamber but to sleep in one she’d never been
in—one in which she was meant to be a prisoner—with any darkness was more than
she could bear.
    She eyed the shaking candle in her hands.
Sometimes she loathed herself for this weakness.
    Henry remained silent as he took the candle from
her and lit all the others he had scattered around. She stared at his shoulders
as the muscles of his back moved against the linen. Would she feel better or
worse if he spoke more? His quiet understanding worked inside her and seemed to
loosen the rope of tension around her throat. Or was he simply trying to do his
best to ensure his prisoner did not cause any more problems?
    Either way, she appreciated that he didn’t scold
her or roll his eyes at her need for light.
    A dangerous sensation indeed. She
shouldn’t appreciate anything about her captor.
    “ Gracias .”
    “Do not move them,” he ordered. “’Tis dangerous
to sleep with so many candles alight but they should be well enough where they
are.”
    She nodded. Her father had the same fear. He
worried she might burn to death in her bed but to her mind, it was almost
preferable to the nightmares that haunted her. She’d rather take the risk than
suffer those horrors every night.
    He eyed her, his gaze running up and down her
form before he gave her an oddly courteous dip of his head. Antonia was suddenly
aware of every part of her body from head to toe. It felt all too much like he
might have run his hands up and down her rather than his gaze.
    “I shall bid you good evening.”
    “ Si. Good
night.”
    She watched him leave and waited until she heard
his feet pad across the floor and his door shut. Was it her imagination or had
she heard the bed ropes creak? Surely with two solid walls between them, she
could not but it didn’t stop her picturing him slipping out of his chausses and
revealing thick, strong thighs.
    Antonia shook her head and started to move the
candles. She was careful not to place them near the curtains but there were too
many shadows still. The dark wood-clad walls and matching