"Are you following me again, Anna?"
If he was trying to distract her by putting her on the defensive, it wasn't going to work. "It's hardly following when camp is but a few yards away." She motioned to the twine and sticks. "I saw you take the snare from your bag and figured you wouldn't be going far."
She searched his face, half-hidden in the shadows. At least an hour of daylight remained, but under the dense canopy of trees in the forest, night seemed much closer. She took a step toward him, narrowing the gap between them. His jaw tightened and his entire body drew up stiffly. She could see the slight flare of his nostrils--as if her closeness bothered him.
Tears gathered behind her eyes. Why was he acting like this? Was she so offensive?
"Are you going to answer me?" Her voice broke, the emotion and uncertainty of the past few days catching up to her. She wanted to put her hand on his chest to steady herself, but she feared she would fall apart completely if he jerked away. "Do I not deserve an explanation?"
He sighed and stepped away from her, ostensibly to drag his fingers through his hair. Though he still wore his armor, he'd removed his helm. His dark brown hair fell in soft waves to the edge of his habergeon of mail. "Aye, lass, you do. I intended to speak to you once I'd seen to our meal."
She didn't know whether to believe him, but she waited for him to continue. She'd said enough. It was his turn to speak.
"What happened was ..."
Beautiful? Amazing? Perfect?
"... unfortunate."
Her heart plummeted--not the word she was hoping for.
"I'm ashamed of my conduct," he said, sounding every inch the stiff, courtly knight. "I never should have let it go so far--"
Unable to stand the regret and distance in his voice any longer, she cut him off. "Why are you talking like this? Why are you acting as if it didn't mean anything?"
His jaw hardened and the pulse in his neck began to tic ominously.
He tried to turn away, but she grabbed his arm. Her chest burned. "Did it mean anything, Arthur?" His gaze bit into her, scorching in its intensity. She drew a deep, ragged breath through her tight throat. "It did to me."
"Anna ..." He seemed to be waging some kind of internal war. The muscles in his arm were rigid under her fingertips; his powerful body seemed to radiate tension. "Why are you making this so difficult?"
"Me? Youare the one making it difficult. It's a simple enough question. It either meant something to you or it didn't."
She held his gaze, refusing to let him turn away, waiting for him to say something. His face was strained taut, as if she were torturing him.
"You don't understand."
"You're right, I don't. Why don't you explain it to me."
"I can't." He gave her a hard look. "Don't you see, it would never work."
My God. Her heart felt lodged in her throat as the realization struck:He's not going to ask for me. How could she have so completely misread the situation?
No!She hadn't. Something else was at work here. "Why not?"
"We're completely wrong for each other. Family is everything to you. But for me? My parents died when I was young. My brothers have been fighting on opposite sides of the war for years. I know nothing about family."
"I can show you--"
He cut her off angrily. "I don't want you to show me. I like to be alone. And you ..." He waved his hand. "I'd wager you've never been alone a day in your life. You deserve to be surrounded by family and friends, with a husband who adores you and a handful of children tugging at your skirts. Don't tell me that you don't want that, because I know you do."
She did want that--with him. "Don't you want children?"
His mouth turned white, as if the question--the thought--caused him pain. "You're missing the point."
"Am I? Have you ever thought that maybe it's not that youliketo be alone, but that you have not been around the right people?" She paused, letting her words sink in. She understood why he kept himself apart, but Anna suspected that he would feel differently with a family who loved him--who accepted him. "If you care for me, none of the rest matters." His face was about as yielding as granite, but she pressed on. "Do you care for me, Arthur?"
She held his gaze, daring him to lie to her. He looked as if he wanted to. Eventually he admitted, "Aye. But it doesn't matter."
