The harvest festival was less than a week away. Afterward, their arrangement would be over.
The certainty of the situation made it all the more unbearable, and irritation flared in his chest.
It doesnae matter, he tried to tell himself, but this time, he could hardly finish the thought.
How would it not matter, when every restraint he had gathered had come crashing down in one night? When he had let himself go so carelessly at the sound of his name on her lips?
Aaron turned toward the door, pausing at the threshold to look back at her. Then, he pulled it shut behind him and crossed the corridor to his chambers, the distance between their doors feeling too far for the first time.
It doesnae matter.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Aaron could not sleep.
His chest tightened as he stood in the middle of his bedchamber, staring out into the breaking dawn.
It had already been three days. Three days since the village fair. Three days since he had carried Edith into the castle as though she were something precious. Even now, his bedchamber smelled of wild lavender.
Perhaps it is because I havenae returned her undergarment.
He forced himself to accept that excuse, padding softly across the room until he was standing in front of the window.
For three days, he had held on to the flimsy white material in the hope of returning it to Edith. But not once had the timing seemed right. At least, that was what he told himself.
Perhaps it will be better to simply dispose of it.
Aaron leaned against the window frame, the smell of wild lavender catching his nose again. He lifted the whiskey in his hand, taking a long sip from the flask and regretting it at once.
The warm amber liquid burned a path down his chest, the sharpness of it causing the memory of Edith’s taste to reignite itself on the tip of his tongue.
His fingers tightened around the flask.
It did not help that the lass seemed to have forgotten about such an important piece of clothing. She had also avoided him since the carriage, leaving every room as soon as he entered and avoiding his gaze multiple times during last night’s supper.
Aaron huffed. It was unbelievable. She had moaned his name into the night and held on to him as though it mattered. And now, she barely spoke to him outside the requirements of their arrangement.
It should have been a relief. Edith would leave Hallow Castle this week. Once the harvest festival was over, she would return to the Lowlands to become a healer.
The thought filled his chest with an ache he did not wish to name.
What they had done in the carriage had been nothing more than a lapse in judgement. A moment of weakness. One he had no intention of repeating.
He could pretend that nothing had happened and bury his memories of it alongside every other mistake he had made where Edith was concerned. But it was not as easy as it sounded. The harder he tried to push thoughts of her out of his mind, the more they burned in his chest, haunting him.
His eyes closed as he remembered the way her skin had felt beneath his touch and how she had looked at him.
She had not been afraid. She had not resisted him. Worse still, she had wanted him back with the same dangerous hunger he had spent weeks trying to bury.
And that terrified him more than he cared to admit.
Saints.
He opened his eyes and turned abruptly, heading for the door. He walked out into the dawn, leaving the castle behind as though some distance might finally silence his thoughts.
It did not work.
The whisper of the trees followed him down the path beyond the castle, reminding him of her voice and the way it had trembled when she whispered against his skin in the dark.
