When she did not respond right away, he gestured to the window as he reached her, adding, “You seemed so intent when I entered the chamber that I wondered if something in particular had caught your attention.”
Only you.
The answer bloomed in her mind, sending a rush of warmth to her cheeks, though thank heavens she was vigilant enough not to have spoken the words aloud. To cover her agitation, she shook her head and tried to smile.
“Nay, there is nothing to see. I was simply lost in thought.”
He nodded, and though his expression was pleasant, he appeared slightly ill at ease, as he always did whenever they were constrained to be alone together.
“Seamus has awakened,” he said at last, coming closer and leaning back against the wall, next to the window where she stood. He crossed his arms loosely over his chest. “The physician says he will recover, given time.”
“I am relieved,” Alissende responded quietly. And she was. Seamus was a good man, loyal and true, and he, his wife, and four children were much loved in the village for their willingness to share what was theirs with those in need.
Damien nodded, falling silent again. Now it was he who seemed lost in thought, and she was just readying to ask him what it was that he’d wanted to discuss with her when he looked up, meeting her gaze with the warmth of his own; the gentle look of concern in his eyes sent a shock straight through her.
“How is your arm?”
“It is fine,” she murmured. Another flush spread up her neck to warm her ears. Now he was staring at the bruise along the bottom edge of her cheek—the one Hugh had made when he’d gripped her chin so cruelly in the glade.
Embarrassed, she touched her fingers briefly to the spot and looked away. “It is nothing, truly. The tenderness will pass in a day or two, and all will be as before.”
“I regret that I did not find you sooner, Alissende,” he said quietly. “I would have prevented his touch upon you altogether, if I could have.”
He sounded so serious, so filled with self-reproach that her gaze was drawn to him again.
“There was no way you could have known Hugh would come to Glenheim on this day of all,” she said. “None of us did, else I would have never chanced a journey beyond the castle walls.”
“Why did you leave, then?” He held her captive with the intensity of his gaze, and it was clear that his question referred to far more than the meaning of the simple words comprising it.
He caught her by surprise with it, and she stammered the half-truth, “I—we went to find strawberries, to make a pudding.”
“Ah…”
The heat in her face deepened. In an effort to distract him from a discussion of her motivations or her feelings, she said, “I, too, am sorry that your initial meeting with Hugh was made so much more difficult because of me.”
“In what way?”
“The woodland could not have been the most favorable setting for coming face-to-face with my cousin for the first time, and I regret the added danger it caused you.”
“It is of no matter.” His handsome face tightened, the expression reminiscent of that feral look he’d worn when he’d confronted Hugh. “What is important now is that he knows of me—and I something of him. The gathering at Odiham in a sennight promises to be interesting at the least.”
Aye, interesting and likely uncomfortable as well.
Damien must have read something in her expression, for he frowned. “What—you have other concerns about it?”
“Perhaps,” she answered, not wanting to hurt him but needing to remind him of the ugly truth that he would surely find in returning to court for the first time since their last painful appearance together. “It is just that going to Odiham is bound to be difficult in a number of ways, is it not? For you especially.”
She braced herself as raw awareness swept across his face; his formerly relaxed posture faded, and he took his time before he responded.
“When I accepted the charge of your protection, Alissende, I knew that it would include the need to return to court…with all that entails for me.”
The last part was spoken with a darker edge, as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth, and Alissende’s heart twisted. Damien paused again, looking away, and her agony intensified. Naught could be gained by revisiting the sordid details of that awful day, she reminded herself. Naught but more misery and regret. It would change nothing, and—
“The past is over, Alissende,” he continued quietly, breaking into her troubled thoughts, “and only the present need concern us. I can manage the old shadows as well as the impending dangers, as long as I can trust that you will not act as an adversary to me for these months we are constrained to live together.”
The subtle shift of tension in his voice startled her, and she met his gaze, feeling breathless at the piercing look in his blue eyes.
“It is one of the subjects about which I desired to speak with you when I asked you to meet me here in the solar,” he went on. “Now that the first confrontation with Hugh is past, I believe we should try to approach what is to come from a position of strength. Of one mind, if such is possible.”
