“Hmm?” He lifted his gaze to her. Poor decision. How was he expected to think straight when she was so pretty, looking up at him with her huge, bold, beguiling eyes. He felt more of his defenses crumbling. How could he think of fighting and battle when he was looking at her, shrouded in the fire of the sun? He had to blink to bring himself back to the present–to what she had asked.
“I didn’t come because,” he paused, keeping his eyes on hers, “because I don’t wish to cause you any sadness.”
She smiled softly at him, making his heart ache for something unfamiliar, yet haunting.
Happiness.
“How do you know you will?” she asked.
“Because…” Why? Why did he have to tell her? He felt a knot grow in his belly, making him want to double over. “Because I intend…no. I dream of returning to battle.” It wasn’t the truth anymore. He didn’t dream of it. He dreamed of her. “I don’t think I can be happy any other way, and even if I do marry, I must do what my father wished.”
He didn’t wait to see her reaction, but turned to look ahead. When a moment or two passed without any reply for her, he turned to her again.
He was certain he’d never look at another woman the same way. He held his breath when she took a little breath and opened her mouth to speak.
“Look, Your Grace, I honestly don’t understand your allegiance to your father. I’ve never felt it. I never even knew it existed until now. None of the people my mother or me knew felt any kind of loyalty to anyone, beginning with their parents. But I know you were young when you lost him. You never had a chance to show him the man you’d grow to be.I’m sure that stings.”
He swallowed and nodded so slightly he wasn’t sure if she saw it.
“But he’s gone,” she continued. “He isn’t looking down, watching to see whether or not you obey his last wishes. Where exactly would he be looking from? Not Heaven if he’s more interested in being honored by his son than he is in enjoying Paradise, and do you think he would really want you to join him so early in your life?” She waited a moment for him to answer, then bowed her head repentantly. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
She got carried away over him. He liked how it made him feel and then cursed himself for it.
“Are you angry…with me?” she asked, sounding as if she worried about his answer.
“No,” he answered without hesitation.
“That’s good.” She smiled at him but there was only sadness in her eyes.
“Fable–” he began, regretting and unsure about his decision, but she cut him off.
“Because I think we should skip the stroll. It won’t do either of us any good. I’ll be going.” Before she drew her next breath, she turned back and marched the other way.
Calling forth every last shred of strength he possessed he didn't go after her.
He was sorry he let this go on for as long as it did. They’d called it a game, but it had become so much more to him. It troubled him because this was a battlefield he’d never been on. His opponent had the power to render him weak and pitiful at any point in time. It scared the hell out of him.
But there was another part of him that watched after her, aching to stop her, haul her in his arms, and kiss her until they were both senseless. And then take her to his bed.
Instead, he spent the day mostly alone, with her on his mind. He had a game of chess with Sudbury, which, incredibly, he lost. After that he practiced his sword fighting with the earl, and won.
By the time the sun went down, it felt as if fifty days had passed. It was better this way, he told himself.Stay away from her.But he wasn’t sure he could do it again tomorrow. Madly, he missed her more than he’d ever had missed anyone before. Her sweet face enchanted him. It astounded him how such a fairy looking woman had found a way through his iron defenses. Had she? He wanted to scoff at the way the memory of her beguilingsmile made his heart race until he felt light-headed. The way her wide, aqua eyes pulled him into their depths and tempted him to give up everything for her, mainly his revenge. He wouldn’t take her for a wife, defying his father and his sister, and end up leaving to slaughter or be slaughtered, making her a widow.
It drove him mad and he couldn’t lay his head down on his pillow. If she felt anything for him, and he believed she did, then his words–his possiblylastwords to her, were hopeless and hurtful. She hadn’t wanted to spend another moment with him.
He ran his hands down his face as he paced before his bed.
When she said she was going, did she mean going to her rooms, or leaving the premises? Why hadn’t he checked to see if she was in her bed?
And if she wasn’t, should he go after her again?
Something shook him from deep inside like an earthquake. For a moment he couldn’t move. It felt as if every bone was crumbling, every muscle withering. He closed his eyes, and with his father and his need for revenge gently pushed to the side, he left his bed.
#
Fable wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to being tucked into bed, but she remained still and compliant while Edith pulled up her blanket.
“Is it the duke who took away your smile, dear one?”
