Touch of Passion (21 page)

He would have to take the time to return to his chamber and dress in clean clothing. But perhaps that wasn't such a poor idea. He needed to compose himself, Kian thought, picking up his boots and moving toward the door. He need to be prepared for Loris's wrath, or her coldness, or even her hatred. He deserved all of them and much more. And this time, there would be no Liw to go to her afterward and soothe her anger and hurt. Kian was completely on his own.

Loris didn't know how long she'd been sitting in the garden before she heard his voice. It seemed as if hours had passed since she'd felt the familiar burning sensation that had wakened her and risen to find Kian lying beside her, deeply asleep.

She'd sat there, gazing down at him in the early morning light that was streaming through the balcony doors—they had forgotten, being so occupied, to close the curtains—until realization had finally crept into her shocked brain.

And the moment it had she'd gone into immediate motion, jumping out of the bed and running to the basin to wash herself—everywhere. Then she'd simply stood there, utterly naked, towel in hand, shaking like a leaf, unable to think of what she should do. Even breathing seemed a difficult thing to accomplish; she was drawing in air in great gasps, yet somehow she felt as if she were suffocating.

Long minutes passed and she calmed by degrees. She had been through far worse things than this, Loris told herself. And if she wasn't precisely certain of what had happened, she would sort it out. And telling herself that, Loris at last got herself under control. Her body and mind settled down, and she could breathe normally once again.

She moved about the room in a purposeful manner, not looking at the bed, not even glancing at it until she at last had to go and draw the bed curtains. And even that was accomplished without letting her gaze drop to the mattress and the man lying on it.

She dressed and then brushed and arranged her hair in her usual simple style. And then she had calmly finished her packing and stacked her trunks by the door. Before she left the room, she picked up the garments that Kian had discarded and folded them, setting them and his boots near the bed where he could find them when he at last woke.

Then she had left the chamber, shutting the door quietly behind her, and made her way down to the kitchen, where Cook greeted her, exclaiming that Miss Loris was up even earlier than usual this morning.

She gave Cook her instructions for the day and then went out into the great hall to ask a footman to inform the other servants that Lord Tylluan had had a very late night and would likely sleep through the morning. He was not to be disturbed.
No one
—she emphasized the words—was to step foot on that particular floor of the castle until His Lordship had risen and presented himself downstairs. Kian had never required the services of a valet or personal manservant and had always shaved and dressed himself. None of the servants
would think it odd to leave their master to his own devices.

Having seen to the day's first duties, Loris sought the comfort of her beloved garden. She sat on her favorite bench, which provided a beautiful view of the valley beyond, beneath the shade of a large, sheltering tree, and, then, at last, let herself think. She hadn't intended to remain for so long, but time had passed without her being aware of it, and as Kian now came near, Loris suddenly realized that the sun had moved a good distance in the sky and that morning had given way to afternoon.

“Loris.” He was striding toward her in a purposeful manner, she saw when she glanced in his direction. His expression was set, grim, and his eyes filled with anxiety. Otherwise Kian looked as he ever had: handsome, elegant, powerful. She glanced up at his hair, which he had left undone so that it fell free to his shoulders, and remembered the feel of it beneath her fingers the night before. That was why it had felt so silken, rather than coarse, as Liw's thicker hair did.

His steps slowed as he neared her and came to a stop altogether when he reached the bench.

“Are you all right?” he asked, the words tense, clipped.

“Yes,” she said, and turned to look out over the valley.

“You've been crying.”

“A little,” she replied. And it was true. She'd not been able to stop the tears. Her heart was filled with grief. “I can't seem to help it when I think of Liw. I'm going to miss him so terribly.” The last two words came out in an embarrassingly strangled manner. Loris pressed her lips together and prayed she wouldn't weep again. Not in front of Kian.

Slowly, he sat on the bench beside her, wisely not attempting to touch her. Loris had a feeling that she would blacken both his eyes if he so much as laid a finger on her today.

“I know,” he said, his voice low. “I know you won't believe me, but I'm going to miss him, too.”

“Yes, I'm sure you will,” she said tautly. “But he meant
something rather more to me than simply a way to get what I wanted.”

“Did you never . . . Loris, did you never even consider who he truly was?”

Her lips trembled, then, and a hot tear spilled from her eye and slid the length of her cheek.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I think I even knew the truth not long after he first started to come, for it didn't make sense to me that you'd not know he was there. You even know when a single mouse is running about in the cellar. It hardly seemed likely that you'd not realize one of the faerie folk was but a few rooms away from your own bedchamber. But he became so real to me as the years passed, and I came to need him so much, that I didn't let myself consider how strange it all was. He was my f-friend.” She drew in a sobbing breath and, when she saw him lift a hand, warned, more angrily, “Don't touch me, Kian. I can't bear the thought of you touching me.”

He lowered his hand and was silent.

Loris wrestled herself back into control and, when her voice was steady, asked, “How did you manage it without anyone else finding out? I can't think Ffinian would have let you come to me using such deceit.”

“He never knew,” Kian replied quietly. “Neither did Dyfed. I don't possess the gift of transformation, so they never suspected, and you know my father well enough to believe that, if he had found out, I would have been the worse for it. I sold a piece of jewelry that I had inherited upon my mother's death and with the money bought an enchantment from one of the
consuriwrs
who live near the border. That was why it was so fragile, having been bought and paid for rather than being a natural gift, and was able to be broken merely by calling me by my true name.”

“But surely the Guardians knew,” she said.

He nodded. “They must have. I don't know why they never stopped me, or why they let me touch you as Liw without imparting pain. Last night, when you said my name,
you didn't seem to feel the effects of the curse, as you usually do.”

Loris lowered her gaze to her lap. “I felt it later, as we were . . . lying so close together. That's what woke me.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding deeply disappointed.

They were silent again for a few moments.

“I realize it won't do any good for me to tell you how sorry I am,” Kian said at last. “But I am, nonetheless. If there is something I can do to make up for what I've done, please tell me. I'll do as you ask.”

“Would you?” she asked stonily, all feeling dead within her. “Would you leave me in peace in the matter of the
unoliaeth
, and never speak to me of it, or of love, again?”

“Yes,” he murmured. “If that is what you wish. But I don't think you understand what a
unoliaeth
is, Loris, if you can say such a thing. Perhaps that's always been part of the trouble between us. The
unoliaeth
has never been properly explained to you. Being fated doesn't require love of the two who are chosen; they are simply two separate beings who cannot be whole apart from each other. Most who are destined do love, and very deeply, but it's not essential. That you don't love me isn't a sign that the
unoliaeth
between us doesn't exist. No matter what your feelings are, even if you can only feel hatred for me, you will never be whole apart from me. I could let you leave Tylluan forever, or I could go away, but in time your heart would seek me. Mine would be sick with want from the moment we were apart. Just as it will be when you leave for London.”

“I don't believe you,” she said. “You've been gone from Tylluan for weeks at a time and I've never felt the lack of your presence.” It wasn't entirely true, for Tylluan had been terribly empty and lonely on those occasions, but that, she had convinced herself, was because all three of them, Ffinian, Dyfed, and Kian, had been gone. That Kian's early returns had made everything feel right wasn't something she wanted to consider at the moment. If ever.

“Is that what you want of me, Loris?” he asked. “To never
again speak of what I feel for you? To let you leave Tylluan forever?”

“No,” she said, standing and moving to look out over the half wall. The valley beyond was so beautiful. So serene. It was part of what she loved, and would miss, about Tylluan. “I'm not certain yet what I want. Or what I wish to do. I need time to think and sort my feelings out. I'm going to London now not because you've told me to, but because I want to go.”

“I understand,” he said softly. “You wish to be away from me for a time.”

“Yes,” she replied, and wondered why she should feel like weeping again. “That's why. But I want you to remember the promise you gave me, that I can return to Tylluan whenever I wish, and that no one, not even you, will stop me from doing so. No matter what.”

She heard him stand, as well. He moved nearer, still careful not to touch her.

“I gave you my promise,” he said, his tone gentle. “I know you have no reason to believe this any longer, but I always keep my promises. Especially those I give you, Loris. Regardless of what you may think now of what happened last night, in time I hope that you'll remember it wasn't simply lust or some desire to punish you for the things you said yesterday afternoon that drove me to come to you. It has never been that. I came to you as Liw because I had to be near you without feeling your scorn. And I kept coming because I couldn't live without the smiles and caresses you gave him, or the friendship you gifted him with. If you believe you're going to miss him, then know that I'm going to miss him, as well. Through him I knew the greatest possible happiness these past many years, because he gave me time with you that the curse kept me from knowing as Kian. And I needed to have that time, because I love you, Loris.”

She closed her eyes and lowered her head, struggling to keep the tears back.

Kian took a step closer, his voice near her ear. “What happened between us last night was love. Not merely desire
or passion or anything simply physical. You called my name out because you recognized who I was—your fated one. Your
unoliaeth
.”

“Don't!” she cried, turning away from him.

“I only want you to know one more thing, and then I'll leave you in peace. If you've been laboring under the idea that I only care for you because of the magic that binds us together—that I have no choice in the matter and therefore my love is worthless—then you're very wrong. I may have been infatuated with you because of the
unoliaeth
at the beginning, but I've fallen in love with you, with
Loris
, during the years since you came to live at Tylluan. If the
unoliaeth
somehow disappeared this very moment, it would make no difference to me. I love
you
, Loris, because of who you are. Because of everything you are, from your smile, to the way you order us all about, to the look you give me when you find me exasperating. I don't need magic to tell me what's between us. And neither do you.”

He began to walk away but stopped after taking only two steps and turned back to her.

“There's no need for you to grieve for Liw,” he said. “He's here, alive in me, and always will be. And for what it may be worth, though I grant you that it may not be much,” he said more softly, “I'm here, too.”

“I can't think it a good idea for you to go off on your own, Master Dyfed,” Horas said. “His Lordship wouldn't be pleased with me if anything were to happen to you. And considering the troubles, sir, and what happened just a few nights ago . . .”

“I'll be fine, Horas,” Dyfed said. “I only want to stop in the village for an hour. There will still be plenty of light in the sky by the time I return to Tylluan, and you know full well that the troubles never begin while it's yet daylight.”

Horas looked up at the sky consideringly. “'Twon't be light for long, Master Dyfed. It's going to rain soon. The clouds are beginning to gather. The roads will be muddy for your journey on the morrow, I fear.”

“Then I'd best hurry if I want to find a place at Neli's before too many other patrons seek shelter. I'll finish my business there and make my way home as quickly as possible. Truly, Horas, there's no need to be worried. It's been many a year since I was in need of a mother.”

He smiled with all the charm he possessed and saw the older man wavering. Kian had given both Dyfed and Horas strict instructions to stay together both to and from
Fynnon Elian
, but they were well within Tylluan's borders once more
and Dyfed knew that Horas was eager to get to his cottage, where his wife and children were waiting, and thereafter to the castle, where Kian awaited a report.

“I'd invite you to join me at Neli's,” Dyfed said, “but your wife would have my head on a platter. I'm sure Marged is waiting impatiently for you to come home. Go on,” he urged. “Go see your wife and I'll meet you at the castle in an hour or so.”

A few minutes later, having promised faithfully that he'd take every care until reaching the castle, Dyfed watched with relief as Horas rode away. Then Dyfed turned his horse in the direction opposite the village and headed toward the lake.