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Authors: Susan Spencer Paul

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BOOK: Touch of Passion
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“He doesn't care about your brother,” she said. “It's your cousin, the one you call
Dewin Mawr
, that he wants. He knows your brother doesn't possess the powers necessary to rid Tylluan of the
athanc
, and will be forced to call for your greatest sorcerer to come to his aid. Cadmaran wants to challenge him, and he can't do that unless Lord Graymar first comes to Llew.”

“But why are you helping him?” Dyfed asked again. “Because your father sold your services to Lord Llew and you have no choice but to do his bidding? Because you want to?” His grip on her tightened. “Are you in love with him?”

“No!” Desdemona put her arms about Dyfed's neck and held him tightly. “I can't abide being near him. I stay at Llew only because there is nowhere else, and I do what he asks with the beast in order to get away from him for a few blessed hours. I cannot go home, for my father would only send me back, after he had punished me for disobedience. I have no family here, no acquaintances, save Cadmaran. My powers are great, yet I have no notion of how to live apart from my kind.”

“You have me now,” Dyfed said fiercely. “I'll take care of You”

“You're about to leave me,” she murmured, and the rain around them began to fall harder. “Shall I follow you to London in order to be with you? It's what I wish, but I cannot think it's what you want of me.”

“Can Cadmaran control the beast?”

“No. My father forbade me to share the secrets of managing the
athanc
, and I'd not tell Cadmaran even if I could. If you believe the damage it's done thus far has been terrible, only imagine what Cadmaran would do. He hates all Seymours and enjoys nothing better than to see your brother running hither and yon, hopelessly trying to find a solution.”

Dyfed nodded soberly. “He has always taken pleasure from any troubles that befall us, most of them at his hands. You're right. He cannot have power over the creature.”

“And left to its own devices, it would run wild, just as I've told you, driven by hunger. Your brother's tenants would begin to die, mere mortals and magic mortals alike. The beast wouldn't know the difference.”

Dyfed knew she spoke the truth. He drew in a tight breath and considered the best course of action.

“There is little choice left to us, Desdemona,” he said at last. “You must remain here and do whatever you can to keep the
athanc
from doing too much harm, and I must do what I can while in London to help my brother find the right enchantments for putting the creature back into slumber. Surely my cousin Lord Graymar will have something useful in his library. And there's a mere mortal there, Professor Seabolt, who might be of help. He's one of our sympathetics, and knows a great deal about the history of our kind.”

“I'll do what I can,” she said, “but Lord Tylluan must never try to contact me. If Cadmaran should become suspicious, he'd likely refuse to let me leave Llew, and within its borders his powers are heightened, while mine are dimmed.”

“I'll make certain that Kian never approaches you,” Dyfed promised. “And you must take every care to keep Lord Llew from learning about us.” He gathered her closer.
“As soon as I return from London, I'll bring you home to Tylluan. Cadmaran won't be able to touch you there.”

“Will your brother allow me to be with you there?” she asked anxiously. “After everything I've let the creature do to his lands?”

“If you can keep any of his people from dying,” Dyfed said, “and if you'll do what you can to help him rid Tylluan of the
athanc
, he'll be in your debt. You'll be welcomed at Tylluan, Desdemona. I promise you that.”

“For that,” she whispered, “and to bring you home I'll do everything possible. Please come back as quickly as you can. I don't know how many days I can endure being apart from you, now that I've found you.”

Dyfed understood what she meant. He'd longed to see her, touch her, every moment since they'd parted ways three nights ago. And though they'd only just sated their passion, that same desire flared again, even more heated than it had been before. This magic that bound them was intense and strong and urgent; Dyfed knew in his heart that it would always be thus, from now until death took them from the earth and back to that realm that was the destiny of all their kind. And even there they would be together. He and Desdemona Caslin had been fated, and once they had found each other, nothing could part them. Save distance, and this damnable journey to London.

“I won't be able to stay away long,” he told her. “I'll go mad without you, Desdemona.”

He lowered her to the ground once more. The rain poured about them and the wind howled, but they were safe and dry in their invisible shelter. It was oddly sensual, making love in the midst of the wild elements, protected from their force. Darkness enveloped the lovers now, as it had not done before, giving secrecy and making Dyfed bold to linger.

He would make love to her properly this time and take the time to fully appreciate her love in return. Kian would worry as the hour grew late, and Horas would most likely become
frantic, but Dyfed was determined to create memories with Desdemona that he would take with him to London and that she could hold near on her long nocturnal vigils with the creature. Memories that would comfort him through the days and nights and keep her from despair as she lived beneath Cadmaran's hand.

It was much colder now; their shelter couldn't keep the chill at bay. But despite that, their hands found buttons and hooks and then warm skin lying beneath cloth. They touched and kissed and murmured, and when they came together at last there was none of the desperation that had quickened their first joining. They moved together slowly at first, learning each other's rhythm, taking as much pleasure from their deliberation as from the union of their bodies. And when the rhythm changed and quickened, words fell from their lips, incoherent to the ear but full of meaning that their hearts understood. Dyfed said her name, as he had done before, and as before, she wept at the sound.

Ten

The rain continued throughout the night and into the morning, giving no sign of stopping. The mood within Castle Tylluan was equal to the weather: dark and somber and uninviting.

Loris had made certain that her trunks and Dyfed's, as well as Elen's bags, were packed in time to be loaded onto the coach. She had overseen the task any number of times for Ffinian and his sons in past years, but she'd never thought the time would come when she'd have to stand and watch her own things being tied atop the vehicle. She wondered, dimly, whether she would arrive in London to find all her carefully folded garments soaked, and realized that she didn't particularly care.

Dyfed looked as miserable as Loris felt regarding their trip, which was somewhat troubling. And extremely unusual. Between himself, his father, and his brother, Dyfed had always been the one who had enjoyed the yearly visits to Town. He'd even told Loris on several occasions that he wished he might live in London for a year or two, simply to take pleasure in all that the city had to offer. But as they partook of breakfast in the dining parlor, Loris could see that he was anything but cheerful at the thought of leaving Tylluan.

He had returned late in the night from his journey to
Fynnon Elian
, just in time to stop Kian and Horas and the rest of the men from setting out in frantic search of him. Kian had looked somewhere between relief and fury and had railed at Dyfed with such anger that Loris knew he'd been truly afraid for his brother's life.

Loris had been a little irate with Dyfed herself, for he'd foolishly stayed too long in the village, worrying both her and his brother, and when he'd at last come home it had been in a completely disheveled condition. He was wet to the bone, and his clothes were thoroughly soiled with mud. She hadn't even wanted to contemplate how he'd gotten into such a state and preferred to tell herself that perhaps he'd simply tripped and fallen while walking through the village rather than that he'd come to such ruin at the hands of one of Neli's girls—all of whom Loris hoped to never think or speak of again, certainly not to Kian.

But poor Dyfed. He'd looked so pale and weary that Loris hadn't had the heart to let Kian keep shouting at him, especially as she suspected he did it because he was still overset more by what had transpired with her than by anything Dyfed had done. She told Kian in as many words to leave his brother in peace and then had taken Dyfed by the arm and escorted him up to his chamber, ordering that a hot bath and food be brought at once. She'd practically undressed him herself, then pushed him into a chair by the fire and covered him with a blanket. He'd insisted that he must speak to his brother, but Loris had countered that she would only allow it after Dyfed had some food and a warming drink in his stomach. Then she'd taken the clothes and left, wondering how she would ever get the stains out without ruining the fine cloth.

Kian had gone up to Dyfed's chamber an hour later, promising Loris that he'd not lose his temper again, and the brothers had spent most of the remaining night hours locked up together. Loris had twice sent food to them, and both times the trays had come back empty, with no word from either man.

At last she'd given up hope of discovering what was afoot and had gone to her own chamber. Not to sleep but to listen to the storm raging outside her window and to toss and turn and wish that she could forget everything that had happened the night before. She wondered if she would ever be able to lie in a bed again and not think of what it had been like . . . the feel of his hands and mouth on her body. Kian's hands. And Kian's mouth. Her body ached shamefully as Loris remembered it all in detail, and when she at last fell into a fitful slumber, she dreamed of him.

Now morning had arrived, and she couldn't decide who looked more grim among the three of them: her, Kian, or Dyfed. What a merry journey this was going to be.

“You'll want to get to Shrewsbury as quickly as possible,” Kian said, showing little interest in the platters of egg tarts and sausages that the footman had offered. He was pale this morning and looked as if he hadn't slept. Loris wondered if he had gone out to guard Tylluan after he'd finished talking with Dyfed.

Dyfed nodded but said nothing. His gaze was fixed on the tablecloth, and he seemed to be thinking of something other than the journey. He sighed aloud, a sad and mournful sound.

“I've made all of the arrangements for your stay in Shrewsbury and Coventry,” Kian went on. “You might possibly make London in less than three days, but if the rain continues, it will likely be necessary to stop more frequently. Loris isn't used to traveling. She won't wish to spend so many hours inside the coach. You must be certain to stop at every opportunity and let her have a cup of tea and a bit of a rest.”

Loris was slightly insulted by the words. She was a fairly hearty female, used to a great deal of daily exertion in both the castle and the garden, as Kian very well knew. She doubted that sitting in his comfortable traveling coach would be very trying.

“Of course,” Dyfed replied, pushing his plate away. “I shall take excellent care of our darling Loris. That's what
you're sending me along for, isn't it?” He flashed a curiously bitter look at his elder brother and stood. “I'm going to my chamber to pack a few more books for the journey.” Looking at Loris, he asked more gently, “Will you be ready to leave soon, sweeting?”

She nodded and said, “I suppose so. Everything has been packed, but I should like to have a last word with Cook and the upstairs maids.”

“Will half an hour suffice?”

“Yes,” she said, and watched as he walked away. As soon as he'd gone, she turned back to Kian. “What in heaven's name has happened? You both look as if a death in the family had occurred. Has there been another attack?”

“No, thank God,” Kian said. “There's nothing to worry over, Loris. Save getting to London. I pray the rain won't follow you throughout the journey. I had hoped for you to enjoy seeing some of England. I doubt you remember much of the journey from ten years past, when we first brought you to Tylluan.”

“I recall every moment,” she countered. “Ffinian spent each mile making me laugh with his stories and telling me everything about Tylluan. I thought he must be making it all up, for it sounded so wonderful,” she said wistfully, her voice softening, “but it was everything that he said it was. And much more.”

“I'm pleased that you love Tylluan so well,” Kian said, watching her closely. “I hope you'll come back to it.”

Loris drew in a breath and released it slowly. She didn't look at him. She'd been considering all that had taken place in the past two days. Her feelings and memories were still raw, but she wasn't so foolish as to deny the truth. What had happened between them in her chamber had changed everything. She simply wasn't certain yet in what way.

“I can't imagine being away from Tylluan for long,” she said at last. “I've told you so before.”

His hand, which she saw out of the corner of her eye, relaxed the grip it had been holding on a cup of hot tea.

“I'm glad,” he said. “Everything will be just as you wish when you come home.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, wishing that they wouldn't speak as if they were strangers. But that was partly her fault, she knew. He felt too badly about what had taken place to be comfortable so soon. It would be up to her to make him act like himself again. She considered trying to aggravate him into making one of his mocking statements but decided that the time wasn't right. Loris straightened in her chair, instead, and said, “Tell me what happened between you and Dyfed last night. What kept you in company so long after he came home?”

Kian sighed wearily. “I cannot tell you everything, and you must promise me that you'll not press Dyfed with questions, for he cannot speak of it yet, either. Will you give me your word, Loris? You know that I'd not ask it of you if it weren't important. And yes”—he held up a hand when she started to speak—“I will tell you everything as soon as it becomes possible for me to do so.”

BOOK: Touch of Passion
9.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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