“What if your father was right?” she suggested. “You would still be having nightmares. Are you?”
Strangely, he felt comforted here with her in his arms. “My fears have changed from when I was a child.”
She returned her cheek to his chest, letting him continue in the silence.
“Now, I dream of my mother.” He felt his heart swell up with deep emotion he hadn’t released in a long, long time. He drew in a sharp inhalation, as if to keep it inside. “She and my father were killed seventeenyears ago by Jacobites. My father, Richard West was a lieutenant-colonel in the Royal Army and an enemy of the Stuart supporters. My parents were away at the time so I didn’t witness their deaths but I dream of her dying. It happens in different ways each time, but she always dies, and there’s never anything I can do to stop it. I dream of the Jacobite men I’ve killed to avenge her. But none of their lives brought her back.” He stopped and wiped a tear before it fell into her hair. “I couldn’t protect her.”
The woman clinging to him remained silent but her embrace tightened.
Again, a wave of warmth coursed through him, misting his eyes, though he kept them closed. He wondered if he’d ever stopped like this and just pondered everything. He realized he hadn’t. “What about you?”
“In my dreams,” she began quietly. “I’m running from something, someone–it’s always different. That’s all my nightmares are about. Me running. I understand that the dreams have to do with insecurity. I’ve never been safe in my life. My mother was a vagrant and most nights we slept in dark alleys, places no normal person would want to be. So sure, as akid I dreamed of running from monsters. But now, something different is coming after me.”
“Maybe now it’s time to stop running,” he told her. “If whatever it is finds you, I’ll help you do away with it.”
She sat back, out of his arms and stared at him. “That someone chasing me is real and he has a sword.”
“I have a sword too,” he let her know with a gentle smirk. “I’ll help you no matter what it is, Miss Ramsey.”
“You want to protect me because you couldn’t protect her…your mother,” she said softly, understanding him a little better.
“Why does it matter?”
“Well, because…” Because it proved he wasn’t protective of her because he liked her. It was from a sense of failure to protect his mother. “I guess it doesn’t matter,” she said and fell into his embrace again.
“I’ve been fighting for a long time,” he told her. “I know there are those who can’t fight to save their lives. That’s who I protect. It may have begun because of my mother, but it’s filled me, branching out like a summer tree into every part of me. I fight to protect the king, who should have the people’s interest at heart. But all that protection is obscure.” While he spoke, he wondered if she could feel his heart beating fast and hard against her body. “With you it’s different. The first time you fell into my arms you begged me not to hurt you. That’s when I decided I would protect you.”
“I don’t want you to be responsible for me,” she said into his nightshirt, and then pulled back. “I really can take care of myself.”
“My lady–”
“Call me Fable.”
He dipped his brow. “An odd name.” Like her.
“My mother read somewhere that fable means a legendary story of supernatural happenings like animals speaking and acting like human beings. I grew up spending much of my time in my own fantasy world of pretending I could communicate with animals.” She laughed softly, rendering him senseless. “I was a silly child.”
“Duke,” she whispered after a moment, “all your talk of protection tempts me to depend on you. That will make me lazy and slow, and…”
“And?” he urged in the dim light.
“And it would break my heart when we parted.” When he opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s that nothing is permanent.”
It would break her heart when they parted? Why? The food, he guessed. But was there more? It didn’t matter if there was more. He thought of his father. He didn’t reply but let her go and rose from the bed. It was time he left her room before rumors started against her. “You’re well,” he said, motioning her to lay back down. When she did, he covered her with her blankets and let his gaze linger on her for a few extra breaths. “I’ll be going.”
“Ben? she called out as he headed for the door. He stopped and turned to her. “Chess tomorrow?”
“No,” he told her. “Something morefun.”
He paused once more before he left. “Fable?”
She rose up on her elbows. “Yes?”
He pointed to himself, though he was sure it was too dark for her to see it. “Me. I’m permanent.”
He returned to his bed and dreamed of a fiery haired woman running into his arms.
#
