The reluctant cavalier (22 page)

The light that filtered through the leaves flickered over his face and body as he played, at once obscuring and revealing the lines of his cheek and chin, shoulder and thigh. A light breeze blew his hair away from his face, outlining his square jaw, but leaving one dark lock upon his forehead. He did not seem quite real—an elemental thing, a creature of the woods, a pagan god who might disappear if she dared glance away for a moment. A robin lighted on a branch next to him, cocking its head at him as if wondering what kind of strange bird Parsifal might be. It was not afraid of him at all, and neither was the squirrel that ventured upon the branch and sniffed at him, then sat upon his foot, apparently deciding it would serve nicely as a chair.

Annabella could not help laughing, partly at the squirrel, and partly from the sheer joy that sprang up within at finding Parsifal. The music stopped in midphrase. The robin fluttered away, and the squirrel dashed for the cover of oak leaves.

"What are you doing here?" His words were harsh. He dropped from the branch to his feet, easily and lightly, though it was as high as his shoulder.

Her hand jerked involuntarily on the reins, and her horse moved a few steps away from him. He had never spoken to her in this manner, and she felt dismayed at the anger on his face.

"I... I wanted to ride and saw you coming here, so I followed."

"It was foolish of you to do so without a groom in attendance. A man has been found dead on the estate. His murderer may still be about, and it is not safe for you—for anyone. Was not a servant available to ride with you?" He stared up at her, his fists resting on his hips. His expression was hard, and his eyes showed clear frustration.

Annabella blushed guiltily. "Yes, there was, but I thought because I followed you as soon as you left it would i not matter, for you would be close by."

"I am flattered you thought yourself safe with me. Or did you not realize you might have followed a murderer?"

He bared his teeth in a brief grimace, and she thought for a moment he looked like his brother, Lord Grafton. She swallowed back tears and looked away from him. It was as she thought; he had felt the scandal and the speculation acutely.

"Of course I do not think you a murderer. You are not a violent man and would never do such a thing," she said.

"What, is my family's reputation not enough to convince you? Or my odd ways?" Bitterness was in his voice now, and it struck hard at Annabella's heart. "I am surprised you wished to be my friend in the first place."

"I am glad you are my friend," she replied. "I could not wish for better."

He stared at her for one moment, the bitterness and despair growing on his face instead of disappearing at her words. He turned from her, letting out a harsh breath. His shoulders tensed, and his back was a wall between them.

He did not want her here, that was clear. She had disturbed his solitude—something that he wished to preserve. How stupid of her to think that he would not mind her presence. The thought occurred to her that she had grown up much pampered and indulged, and it was wholly possible that she had grown arrogant, expecting that she was welcome everywhere. She had thought he might have desired her, when they were in the garden, but perhaps that was her arrogance as well. Regardless, she was sure he had come here to escape the unpleasantness at the estate, and she had intruded.

She summoned up a smile. "I—I am sorry. I see you wish to be alone, and I do not blame you for it. I will return, and not venture forth without a groom or other chaperone in the future." She gathered her reins, but Parsifal turned and caught them.

"No, wait!"

Annabella gazed down at him, and this time he smiled ruefully and sighed, pushing back the hair on his forehead with his hand.

"You may stay. Or, if you wish to leave, I will need to accompany you. I am sorry I was rude ... I did not expect anyone to be here—no one ever comes here except me— and you startled me."

Annabella bit her lower lip, hesitating. She did wish to stay, but not if he did not want her here. "Would you mind... do you wish me to stay? I hope ... I would like to stay for a little and listen to you play your music."

Parsifal smiled and held out his hands to her, and she drew in her breath, for it was one of his clear, bright smiles that she so loved. Annabella could not help smiling in return and unhooked her leg from the saddle. He put his hands about her waist and lifted her down, as if she were feather-light. His hands remained around her waist for a moment, and she was conscious of the heat and strength of them through the cloth of her riding dress. She gazed up at him and found him staring at her, his smile slowly fading.

He released her and stepped back.

"I am afraid there is nothing much to entertain you here," he said, his voice sounding a little strained. "Or many places to sit, if that's what you wish." He gestured at the tree. "It is soft and mossy at the foot of the tree, but you might get your skirt stained."

Annabella looked at the tree branch he had sat on earlier.

It was long and as broad as a chair, and could easily seat two. She pointed at it. "I would like to sit up there, please."

Parsifal's brows rose, and one corner of his mouth quirked up. "I could help you up, but it would not be very dignified."

"Pooh!" she said. "I don't care for that." It was a little lie, for she had never climbed a tree, having been city born and bred, and was a little anxious about the height. She wondered if he could guess it, for he grinned.

"I do not care, really," she insisted.

"I am sure you don't," he replied, and his grin grew wider. He turned to the tree, leaped, and pulled himself up on the branch with seeming effortlessness.

"I do
not
think I can do that," Annabella said flatly.

This time Parsifal laughed. "No, perhaps not—it takes practice. Come!" He crouched down upon the branch and held out his hand. She put her hand in his, then she gasped, for he pulled her up, quickly grasping her other hand and then her waist, steadying her as she found her feet. She was up at last, and she dared glance down.

"Oh, heavens!" she gasped again, and her hands clutched the front of his shirt.

"Don't look down, or you'll feel dizzy. If you look up, you will become more used to the height, and may look down again later."

There seemed not to be as much room on the branch as she had thought, and she was afraid to let loose his shirt. If she looked to the left or right, she was sure she would see the ground again. Where else was she to look but at him? Annabella lifted her eyes and found Parsifal staring at her, closer than he had ever been before.

His arm was still around her, and as she loosened her grasp on his shirt, she could feel the beat of his heart through her hands as they flattened on his chest. He seemed almost to have turned to stone, for he scarcely breathed. She gazed at him, watching how the sunlight streaming between the oak leaves flickered across his face, catching the hazel of his eyes and turning them gold. A stray breeze blew a lock of his hair across his forehead. She lifted her hand and stroked it back.

Parsifal closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed and touched her cheek with his fingers. "Annabella," he whispered, his voice low and despairing, and brought his lips to hers.

The kiss was as wonderful as she had hoped it would be, soft and gentle and strong. He held her tightly against him, and she closed her eyes, feeling the strength of his body against hers, and she was not frightened as she had been when other men had tried to kiss her. No, this was a mix of comfort and exhilaration, not uncertainty and fear. She felt as if she had come home after a long journey, welcomed as if she'd been long lost and cherished.

She moved her hands upward to his shoulders, and she could feel the hardness of them. The image of him amongst the flowers, shirtless, came to her. Even the scent of earth and honey came to her, as it had in the garden, heady and wild. She blushed, and the heat of her blush seemed to spread to the pit of her stomach and her legs and made her knees tremble.

"Ahh, sweet. .. sweet... sweet," he murmured against her mouth, her cheek, and a sensitive spot just beneath her ear. She shivered and drew in a sharp breath, and suddenly he parted from her.

Parsifal stared at her, his eyes, bewildered and lost. His hand came up and touched her cheek with the back of his finger, tenderly, as she had seen him touch the bud of a rare rose.

"Why?" he whispered.

"I love you," she said and knew it was the right answer. Mixed disbelief and joy flashed across his face, and he let out a deep ragged breath.

"Oh, God." He buried his face in her neck, almost crushing her in his embrace. "You won't marry the duke or that other gentleman."

She smiled. "You
are
the other gentleman. Did you not even guess?"

Parsifal lifted his head and gazed at her, astonishment clear on his face, and she put her arms around his neck. She shook her head. "You are too good and too modest. It was you, all along, but you never said or did anything, and I did not know if you ever would—or wanted to."

He gave a halting laugh and kissed her again. "I wanted to. Oh sweet heaven, Bella, I wanted to," he murmured against her lips. He moved his mouth firmly over hers, and she kissed him eagerly, tiptoeing so that she could reach him. Her foot slipped on the branch, and he steadied her with his arm around her waist.

"Stop," he said, then gave her one more kiss. "I think we should climb down if we mean to continue kissing, or else we shall fall." He laughed, and her heart lifted to hear it, for it was light and full of wonder and joy. "Or at least I shall. I have become weak with kissing you, Annabella. When I do, I feel as if my legs will not hold me up properly."

Annabella blushed. She rested her forehead upon his chest, then looked up at him. "I think we should sit, and you can play your music if you like."

"I am not very good at it." He took her hands and gently helped her sit upon the branch, then sat down beside her.

"What I heard was very pretty. Please, Parsifal?"

He gazed at her for a moment, looking as if he would like to kiss her again. She blushed once more, and he looked away, smiling.

"Very well," he said and put the tin whistle to his lips.

He played a country tune and did it very well, Annabella thought. She enjoyed watching him, admiring the way he looked. How could she have thought him other than handsome? She remembered thinking his appearance a little lacking when she had seen him at the Bowerlands' card party, for he had seemed awkward and his clothes were neither fashionable or well-cut. Yet, here in the woods the state of his clothes did not matter, and he was not, in reality, awkward at all, but moved with an athletic grace. She wondered if he danced well, regretting that she had not seen him at the masquerade or had danced with him.

Annabella glanced away from him, feeling ashamed. She was a vain, frivolous creature, certainly! No doubt if she had seen Parsifal, she would have forgotten him, for once the Cavalier had found her, the masked man had occupied all her thoughts. Indeed, it had been difficult
not
to think of him, especially when he had kissed her so thoroughly ...

A tight, disturbed feeling rose up from her stomach, and she stared at Parsifal once more. She had thought it before and dismissed it, but she could not help thinking of the Cavalier whenever she was near Parsifal, and that perhaps it was Parsifal who had worn the disguise. But surely he would have mentioned it to her by now if he was the Cavalier?

"Is there something the matter, Annabella?" He had put down his whistle and gazed at her, clearly concerned.

"I—do you dance, Parsifal?" she asked.

His eyebrows raised, but he said, "Why, yes. I was taught with my brother, some years ago."

"I imagine you must dance well?"

He smiled. "I don't know. No one has ever commented upon it, one way or another." A piping sound erupted above them, and he glanced up at the robin perched on a small branch, then transferred his gaze to the sun above the trees. "We have spent quite some time here. We should return. Country manners are different from town ones, I know, but they are not
that
different. We do not need more speculation than has already been brought upon us."

Annabella nodded, though she did not want to leave at all. He was quite right, however, and she did not want to be the cause of more unpleasantness for him—or herself, for that matter. She still wished she could stay a little longer. She wanted to listen to him play his music and gaze at him to see if there were similarities between him and the Cavalier she had perhaps not seen before.

He jumped down from the tree and held his hands out for her, smiling, and she put her arms around him when she descended. His smile faded, and he gazed at her seriously, though he still held her.

"I should not have kissed you, you know. You are half promised to the Duke of Stratton, and I should not have done anything until you had refused his marriage proposal. At the very least, I should have asked your parents leave to pay my addresses to you."

Annabella leaned against him, rubbing her cheek against his shirt. "But Mama is here, and you may ask her, in lieu of my father, for he is in France now and we do not know when he will return. And I shall refuse the duke—the next time I see him, which will no doubt be soon, when my mother recovers. I am sure all will be well! Mama will give her consent, and the duke is a man of honor. He cannot wish to marry me when I wish to marry you! Why, you and I are as good as betrothed now, I am sure!"

Parsifal moved her away a little and cupped her chin in his hand. "It is not the same, Bella," he said, smiling slightly. "I should properly ask your father, though if there is no telling when he will be back from his travels, I suppose your mother must speak for him. And ... I must admit, I have become impatient all of a sudden and wish you would tell the duke straightaway." He laughed softly. "You see, once I have kissed you, it is difficult not to do it again." He bent his head and moved his lips over hers.