“You would be correct, demoiselle.”
Lista chuckled. “Do not try too hard or you will annoy me,” she said. “We will not stay friends for long.”
He snorted and turned away from the wall. “I am finished trying for tonight, so you may rest easy,” he said. “But I was thinking that I should go to Kelso on the morrow. I will return by evening. Then, I can remain a few days before I must return home.”
It seemed to Lista that he wanted her to give him some encouragement, some hope that when he returned, she would be glad for it. No matter how much she explained to him that her affections were with Julian, Louis wasn’t inclined to surrender. He was looking for a ray of hope, a hint of encouragement, where she could give him none and no matter how much he told her that he would be content with friendship for the present, Lista knew he couldn’t keep to that vow. Frankly, she didn’t need the pressure.
Nor did she want it.
Perhaps suggesting they remain friends had been too ambitious.
“Louis,” she finally said. “Would you do something for me if I asked it of you?”
“Of course I would.”
She faced him. “When you finish your father’s business in Kelso, I want you to go back home right away,” she said, lifting her hand to silence him when he opened his mouth to protest. “I know I told you that you could stay for a few days, but I have changed my mind. I am afraid I must ask you not to come back. For a while, anyway. I know you believe that you can win me over and you speak of being friends, but I do not think you can keep to that vow and I do not want to get to the point where I avoid you because I do not want to feel as if you are pressuring me to accept your suit. I need some time to reflect on mythoughts and feelings and I cannot do that if you are here. Please do not think me cruel. I think it would be even crueler to let you stay, knowing I cannot give you the answers you seek.”
Louis sighed faintly. “May we discuss this again in the morning?” he asked. “Mayhap you should sleep on it and see how you feel on the morrow.”
“Nay,” Lista shook her head. “It would be better if you go. Please. Go home to Herrington and I will send you word if, and when, I am ready to speak on the subject.”
“How long should I wait?”
“That is a fair question,” she said. “The answer is that I do not know. It could be a month, a year… I do not know. But if you meet another young woman in the meantime, please do not refuse her because of me. I would wish for you to accept her and be very happy for it.”
He gazed at her in the moonlight. “That sounds as if I will never hear from you again.”
Lista shrugged. “As I have told you, I do not know,” she said honestly. “You are kind and bright and thoughtful, a rare man and one of great value, but my feelings are with another and I do not know if those feelings will ever go away.”
Louis looked at her a moment longer before averting his gaze. He’d tried so hard to be understanding, but the truth was that he was a man used to having his way. He was convinced he could sway Lista if she’d only allow it, but it was becoming increasingly clear she didn’t want to.
That was a difficult pill for him to swallow.
“I am as good a man as Julian de Velt, my lady,” he said quietly. “I would make a good husband.”
“I know you would,” Lista said. “An excellent husband. But it may not be for me.”
He simply nodded his head, but Lista could see that he was clearly unhappy. Even in the torchlight, she could see his jawtwitching faintly. Since there wasn’t much more she could say, and she certainly didn’t want to delve into the subject of his suit again, she turned back towards the stairs.
“I hope I will see you on the morrow,” she said. “But if you are gone when I awake, then know that I wish you safe travels and the very best life has to offer. You deserve everything good, Louis. I mean that sincerely.”
He didn’t say anything, nor did he respond much other than a tight smile. Lista limped back towards the stairwell but his deep voice stopped her.
“Wait,” he said.
Lista paused, trying to stay off her right ankle, as he made his way over to her. He put himself in front of her and gestured to his back.
“Jump on,” he said. “Let me take you down the stairs so you do not trip and kill yourself.”
He meant to give her a ride on his back and, considering that she had to go down three flights of stairs, it was a rather welcome offer. Without another word, she put her arms around his neck and climbed onto his back as he gripped her with an arm. The other arm was used to steady himself as he made his way down the steep spiral stairs, down to the third floor where Lista’s chamber was.
Louis carried her all the way to her chamber door, setting her down carefully when they reached it. With a soft word of thanks, Lista went inside and shut the door, quietly bolting it and listening for Louis to leave.
He stood outside her doorway for a solid hour before she finally heard him depart.
More than likely, for good.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
