Darkest Dreams (21 page)

“It makes loving her even more painful.”

“Bloody hell, yes!” Despite his disability, he swung around so fast that I stepped back in surprise and had to juggle to keep the books in my arms. “Sorry, that's exactly how I feel,” he said, reaching out to help steady the books. “Fencing?”

Heat flagged my cheeks and I cleared my throat. “Well, your brother sort of offered to teach me a little about it.”

“He did!” Both of Sean's dark brows shot up. “I thought you were cataloguing the eyesores our ancestors hung about our necks.”

I stiffened my back. “I am, and they are most certainly not eyesores. They're an amazingly rich inheritance of history that needs to be properly noted and displayed, not just stuffed into a room and forgotten. Now, let's talk about Cassie. Have you told her how you feel?”

“She knows how much I love her.”

“That isn't the same as telling her, now. Also, you're going to have to realize that you married a woman who has never sat idle or docile. I think you should involve her with the investigation on some level.”

“No. I won't compromise her safety, but I will make sure she completely understands how much I love her.”

“Well, I guess I'll say goodnight then.” I started from the library.

“Wait, Andromeda. What exactly is Alex showing you about fencing?”

“Very little as of yet. He's extremely good. He mentioned that you both began learning to be sword masters together before…”

“You can speak of the fight.”

“I was going to say accident. He didn't mean for you to fall from the cliff. It was an accident, and both of you need to stop punishing him for it.”

“You're talking about something you know nothing of. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like. The anger.”

“No. I wasn't there. I don't know what it was like, but I do know that a man doesn't sentence himself to a life of desolation because he meant to kill someone and didn't. Only a man who didn't mean to kill someone and almost did would.”

“What do you mean?”

“While your brother wasn't at home, I went to catalogue any pictures or art or artifacts in his quarters, figuring that his would be similar to yours. You've a wealth of interesting antiquities, from medieval weaponry to suited armor in your chambers.”

He lifted a skeptical brow that had me blushing from my lie. “And?”

“There was nothing. Not a picture. Not a single item except a desk, a chair, a table, a lamp, an armoire and a bed. Your brother lives like a monk in many ways. He denies himself attachment to anything that is not functional for his existence. He goes through the motions of life on the surface. He can be seen riding a horse at breakneck speed or training one with a magical hand. He goes to town for an occasional event. He entertains Lord Ashton and Mr. Drayson at card games and can even be a charming host over a meal. But it is all a front, a smokescreen that hides the fact that every day he is just passing time until he dies, alone. And it is such a waste, because you don't live the empty, dependent life he feels he condemned you to. You're one of the most remarkable people I know. You've triumphed over tragedy and have carved a unique existence for yourself. You don't need to have the title he's sacrificing himself to give you. You have more than he ever will.” I turned quickly to leave, sadness scorching my heart.

“Andromeda.” Sean set his hand on my shoulder before I reached the door, and my knees nearly buckled from the pain inside him. Pain of loving his brother, of being betrayed, and of fear that the Dragon's Curse would continue. “What are you saying? I dissolved our pact to never marry. He's free.”

I stepped from the weight of his hand and faced him without the burden of his pain. “No, you didn't, and you can't free him. Because the pact isn't with you; it's inside himself and what he feels he owes you because of what happened. And don't you dare tell him I said anything. He'll never trust me again. I didn't mean to tell you and I shouldn't have. But no one seems to consider Alex in what happened.”

Sean blinked at me a moment, stunned, and I took the opportunity to leave before I could say or do something else I shouldn't, like give in to the tears filling my eyes.

“You're going to need an épée and a
contre-attaque
,” Sean called out to me down the corridor.

“A what?”

“Meet me in the center hall at dawn and I'll show you. And thank you,” he said, “Cassie will have to talk to me now.”

“Why?” I asked, blinking to bring him into focus.

“Do you think she'll miss out on a fencing lesson?”

I went back to my room, shaking my head. Sean may have found a way to win this battle, but I hated to tell him that it wasn't going to do a thing to solve the war brewing between him and Cassie. The trouble was, I understood both of them, and they were both right and both wrong.

 

 

I traveled to Dragon's Cove the next morning sure about only one thing: If the opportunity to spend more time with Alex presented itself, I wasn't going to walk away from it. Alex needed me, and deep inside I knew my feelings for him were such that I'd never feel this deeply for another. Would it be right or wrong to allow myself to experience the fullness of our passion before I resigned myself to living a life alone?

No matter what happened to me personally, I had to do what I could to make him see he had needlessly put himself into prison. And I thought I knew a way to force him to listen to me. At sword point, no less. When I left Killdaren's Castle, Cassie and Sean were at blunted sword points with each other, and Cassie was talking to him, for now. Or at least at him.

Seeing Sean in action this morning made me wonder if Alex even knew how well Sean had compensated for his disability. With the help of his cane, Sean's movements were adept and deadly as he showed us some fencing maneuvers, especially considering the sharp, hooked blade hidden in the tip of his cane.

A slight plan began to form, one that involved Alex, me, a challenge and, I hoped, just the right amount of luck to pull off the little trick Sean had taught me this morning. I'd done a good bit of reading late into the night and at least intellectually knew what a
contre-attaque
was.

After yesterday, I expected Alex would have escaped to his ship to prowl the coast again, and I'd have to wait another week to see him. So the sight of him charging up on a splendid gelding with another saddled horse in tow stole my breath. I'd yet to enter the Dragon doors, but had stood on the steps seeing the doors in light of what I'd read about the Dragon's Curse.

Cassie was wrong. The dragons weren't just wounded and standing. They were indeed dead, but had not fallen, and it was hard to imagine that Alex saw himself that way. His charismatic aura was so full of life.

I watched him approach, reveling in him. His dark hair, like rich, black silk, waved back from the strong, sensual lines of his face to a daring length that brushed the tops of his broad shoulders. The gleam in his vibrant green gaze matched the unorthodox manner of his coatless attire, for he seemed to be undressing me with his eyes.

“Iris has something to show you down by the stables,” he said. “You did say you could ride, didn't you?”

“Yes.” I stared warily at the lively brown mare he'd brought. “My experience, though, is somewhat limited to mares of notable age.”

“Then Delilah will be perfect. She responds well to a light touch and will follow Samson to the ends of the earth.” He dismounted, bringing his strength, vitality and heat so close he made me tingle everywhere.

“You must be riding Samson then,” I said, managing to sound inane despite my efforts.

“None other,” he said. “Do you need help mounting?”

“Well…” I glanced cautiously at Delilah. She was larger, younger and definitely had all four hooves on solid ground and none of them in the grave. Not at all similar to the other horses I'd ridden. “Maybe a little.” I swallowed hard. “Are you sure she's gentle? From the way she glared at Samson as you rode up, Samson should be guarding his mane rather than grazing on sweet violets.”

He laughed as he set his hands to my waist, unexpectedly picking me up to set me in the sidesaddle. “If she handles a blade as well as you do then he has nothing to fear.”

“What?” I said, grabbing his shoulders even as I stiffened my back in protest of his slight. The result was disastrous in that I didn't quite gain my balance in the sidesaddle before moving, and thus fell forward, burying my bosom in his face before I could push back. He slid his hand up from my waist to cup the sides of my breasts, seemingly pressing them even more firmly to him. I flushed from the tip of my toes to every mentionable and unmentionable place imaginable before I could extricate myself without any help whatsoever. All he did was laugh harder and, considering the dampness between my breasts, may have licked me.

“You, sir, are no gentleman. That was an accident and you didn't lift a finger.”

He cocked a questioning brow, reminding me he'd adeptly lifted ten fingers.

“To help me,” I added. “Not yourself.” I took Delilah's reins from him, and she skittered back a little, making me bite my lip in fear.

“My apologies,” he said, not looking the least bit contrite as he mounted Samson.

I set my concentration on staying upright and trying to show a degree of confidence I didn't quite have. Something I would never have unless I ventured out from the artifacts I buried myself beneath.

“We'll take the long way to the stables so you can see a little of the land,” he said, leading us to the left and the crash of the waves. After passing though a small barrier of low-lying trees, we came to a high edge of black rocks where the horizon became an endless vision of deep blue.

“I suppose Dragon's Cove was named from the Killdaren curse?” I asked, desperately trying to distract myself from the fact that I was on a horse. Even though the horse seemed to be docilely following Alex's lead at a leisurely pace, I couldn't seem to breathe. Every bumpy step bruised some unmentionable part of me.

“Actually no. The Killdaren who settled here did so because the land seemed to be as cursed as the family. The castle is built on the crest of a high cliff that rises sharply from the sea. From a ship, the cliff and the treacherous rocks below have the appearance of a clawing dragon, with the crashing waves as its continuous roar. Ships sailing along the coast in the fog often wrecked upon the rocks, and the survivors swore the sleeping dragon had awakened and attacked their ships.”

“It's easy to see how those stories took root,” I said, looking out at the dark rocks, hearing the roar, and feeling the deadly energy.

Once past the cliff, he paused at a trail. “If you follow this path, you wind your way down to a cove with a sandy beach.” I nodded, biting my lip against my discomfort. However did people
enjoy
riding? Moving back through the woods, he crossed in front of the castle and down a long stretch of rolling grass, increasing his pace, and I groaned at the sharp pain as I bounced stiffly in the saddle. Everything was so different than trudging along on a piebald mare around a training rink.

He must have heard me because he dropped back to ride beside me. “You don't have to concentrate so hard at riding, you know. You look as if you're trying to solve the world's problems. Relax and let your body flow with the movement of the horse's steps. Use her movements to balance yourself and don't try and fight her sway.”

“That's easier said than done,” I replied through clenched teeth, dismayed that my inexperience was so apparent despite my efforts.

“Shut your eyes,” he instructed, moving closer to my side. “You'll feel the rhythm.”

My eyes widened instead.

“Go ahead,” he urged. “Trust me. I won't let anything happen.”

I shut my eyes. In the ensuing darkness, I was carried forward with no control of where I was going. It was the strangest feeling I'd ever known, and gave me a better understanding of what every moment of Rebecca's life was like.

“Yes, that's it,” he said softly, easing the timbre of his voice over me like a warm caress. “Loosen your fingers, ease your legs apart a little, let your boots rest in the stirrups and absorb the brunt of her stride. Relax into her pace.

After a few minutes, I didn't feel as if I would fall anymore, and surprisingly the ride become less painful, almost fun. I opened my eyes, amazed. I had to admit the day itself was glorious. Bright sunshine warmed my back, and a fresh salty breeze cooled my cheeks. The crash of the sea's waves against the cliffs made me feel as if I heard the very heartbeat of the land, or that of the sleeping dragon, if you went by the stories of sailors.

“There,” Alex said. “You feel it now, don't you? The ease and the harmony of riding in rhythm. You learn fast. Now look ahead at the terrain and anticipate what Delilah is going to do in response to your lead, and you will soon be master over the horse. Fencing is the same in that you let your body flow with the rhythm of the fight, but you have the added uncertainty of only being able to control and anticipate your opponent's moves to a certain point. After that…well, things can become difficult and much more interesting.”

“It sounds very much like marriage,” I said.

“What does?”

“Horse riding and fencing. Unfortunately, Cassie isn't proving to be as predictable as Sean thought she'd be.”

“I can't say that I'm surprised, but what do you mean specifically?”

I frowned, trying to reduce Cassie and Sean's conflict over the past few weeks to a simple idea. “The basic problem is that Sean and Cassie's expectations of what each other should do and how they should react to each other isn't matching up to who that other person is. For instance, when I left, Sean was sputtering with outrage because Cassie had likened him to a peacock.”