Training Felix to use his laran!In the frenzy of the moment, Regis had all but forgotten that request. Obviously, Linnea had not.
“And then you come to me, all romantic. You ply me with memories of the dreams I—we once had. You play with our daughter, you give me hope that we could be together as a family. You kiss me and hold me as if I were the most precious—”
She broke off. Every fiber in her slender body quivered in outrage. He realized the depth of her sense of betrayal. Had she thought he had given himself entirely to her? Had he created that impression?
Had he not been in love with her last night? What kind of inconstant villain was he?
Between one heartbeat and the next, Regis realized that, as a Keeper, Linnea must have been well aware of her own fertility. She had deliberately allowed herself to conceive—she had chosen—b ecause she believed so fully in his love for her. His mind had been open to hers, as hers to his. How could they have come to such a misunderstanding?
“I’m s-sorry,” he stammered. “I h- had no idea you would find my proposal so distressing.”
His stilted words only made matters worse. What little experience he had with women failed him now. He blundered on.
“You see, I thought that since we were friends, it would be all right.” Trying to keep the rising panic from his voice, he reached out to lay his fingertips lightly on her wrist. She jerked away. “If I must have a wife, surely it should be someone I care for, rather than a stranger.”
“A stranger!” Her eyes brimmed with hot, angry tears. “So now I am little better than a stranger?”
“I do care for you, Linnea. I give you my word, the word of a Hastur, that no other woman has ever meant as much to me. Or ever will.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” she raged. “Can’t you see that only makes things worse?”
“Linnea, what is wrong? I don’t understand why you are so upset. You’ve always been so calm, so—”
“So in control of myself? I am—I wasa Keeper and celibate. Why do you think I must choose between that work and sexual intimacy?” Wringing her hands, she surged to her feet and began to pace while Regis watched, helpless and aghast. “Regis, I know I’m overly emotional. I knowI’m being unfair to you. But that doesn’t mean I am not also telling the truth. It’s not just that we made love last night, it’s that we made love.I didn’t justhave sex with you.”
She was right. Their union had been more, not just the pleasure of the body, but a joining of their hearts and psychic energy. And more . . . If he closed his eyes, he could still see the tiny glowing point of new life. No wonder she was reactive, brittle, with nothing left for dealing with the troubles of ordinary life, let alone a proposal of marriage.
“Please,” he pleaded, “sit down. I spoke clumsily, but I meant well. The situation cannot be that bad.”
Linnea turned, her gray eyes pools of shadow, and lowered herself to the divan beside him. She was still trembling, but she was no longer weeping.
“I know you care for me,” she said, her voice rough, “but I don’t think it is enough.”
“What would you have me do?”
Linnea took a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped her eyes. “I do understand. But youmust also understand that I have needs and feelings, too. Even if—even if I could make a life for myself in the shadow of your love for Danilo—always second, never allowed to forget that you two are sworn to one another, bredhin,that no woman could ever come between you—even then, there are others to consider.”
He raised his head.
“There is Kierestelli . . .” she said gently, “and our unborn son. I must provide for both of them—”
“As my wife, you will want for nothing—”
Impatiently, she brushed aside his offer. “I meant that I must provide for their emotional needs, not their physical comfort. What do you think it would do to them, growing up in a family where their parents merely tolerate one another? It would be a cold house indeed, and I alone cannot change that.”
In a moment of insight, the words cold houseechoed through his mind, and his own childhood came rushing up. He had grown up in such a cold house,starved for affection, constantly measured and censured, first by his grandfather and then by the monks at Nevarsin. Surely, she must be wrong—he would never allow that to happen to his own children! How could she believe such a thing?
“I can’t court you with fancy words,” he said, wrestling his anger under control. “Linnea, look into my heart and see if I am such a monster. I love you . . . and I would love our children.”
And give them a better home than I ever knew.
“You say that now, when I have something you want, when I still have it within my power to say no!” Her fury had returned, edged with desperation. “Once I give in, you will make me an appendage, an ornament. You said so yourself— an official consort for ceremonial occasions!A toy to be paraded before the court and then set aside. I will sleep like a prisoner every night, while you—you—I will not have even half of your heart, I will have none!”
What did the woman want? How could he make her understand? Was there any woman in the world worth this kind of humiliation?
Again, he tried. “You spoke of my heart. Is a heart divisible? Can it not be big enough for more than one person? Do we not each love many people in our lives—parents, cherished friends, children, lovers?” The words came rushing out from deep within him. “Can one beloved ever truly take the place of another? I have already said that I love you as much as I can love any woman. Is that not enough to build a life together?”
Eyes glittering like ice, wild mood spent, she turned back to him. “But you did not ask me to marry you out of love,Regis. You asked out of duty, out of convenience, out of political necessity.”
“I made a mistake. I spoke badly, I admit it! Does that matter if the love is there?”
“I hope that you and Danilo find the happiness you deserve, or at least a measure of peace,” Linnea said, striding to the door and laying her hand on the latch. “But you must find it without me. I shall always be your friend, as you will always be the father of my children.”
“I suppose I had no right to a better answer,” Regis muttered. “If that is your final word on the subject, then I wish you a long and prosperous life and that you may find more joy in it than I have found in mine!”
He bowed to her, his cheeks burning with anger and shame. Then he withdrew from the chamber without another word, vowing that he would never put himself through such an ordeal again.
6
Wrapped in his fur-lined travel cloak, Regis stormed across High Windward’s courtyard. Danilo stood talking with one of the grooms and the headman’s son from the village. The ponies and pack animal were saddled and ready to go. The Red Sun was well up, radiating a tentative warmth.
Danilo smiled pleasantly as Regis approached. “Good morning, my lord. Did—”
“Let’s get out of here!” Regis snapped. He did not wait for any assistance but grabbed the reins of his pony from the groom, thrust the toe of his left boot in the near stirrup, and swung into the saddle.
Danilo’s eyes widened for an instant. He gestured to the headman’s son and handed a small purse to the groom. Regis had already booted his pony into a trot, headed for the outer gates, when Danilo caught up with him. The ponies, fresh and eager, jogged down the ice-hard trail.
Despite the easy gait of his mount, each step jarred his clenched teeth. He knew he should not press the ponies so early in the day, that they would require their strength to reach the village or risk having to camp overnight in the open. The need to get away as fast as possible consumed him.
“Regis! Vai dom,what is wrong?” Danilo’s voice held a note of true concern. “Has something happened?”
“She said no!”
“ No? I don’t understand. Will you slow down and talk to me? You’re upset . . .”
A harmonic of distress in Danilo’s voice brought Reg
is back to himself. When he touched the reins, the pony dropped back into a walk and heaved a sigh at this return to sanity.
“She said no,” Danilo prompted. “She will not come to Thendara and work with Lawton’s son? Why not?”
Glancing back, Regis made certain that the headman’s son was far enough behind so that they would not be easily overheard. “I asked her to marry me, and she refused, quite emphatically.”
With his nerves still raw from the interview with Linnea, Regis felt Danilo’s emotional reaction, astonishment and anger.
“I am surprised to hear it,” Danilo said, his eyes focused between the ears of his mount. “Indeed, I cannot imagine what she must be thinking. I was under the impression that there was not a woman in all the Seven Domains, except a few among the Renunciates, who would not leap at the chance to become Lady Hastur.”
Regis could think of no reply. He did not know if he were more angry at Linnea or at himself, for having mishandled the proposal so badly. For good or ill, the words were spoken, the offer rejected.
You can’t put a banshee chick back into its egg,ran the old proverb. At the moment, he would much rather have tackled one of the giant carnivorous birds than his own feelings.
Several minutes passed in silence, broken only by the muted clop of the ponies’ hooves and the creak of the leather harnesses. The breath of men and beasts made plumes of mist in the cold dry air. The trail steepened, and the animals slowed.
Their way wound along the side of the mountain, from which sprang an enormous knuckle of bare rock, the outcropping on which High Windward perched. From time to time, they caught glimpses of the peaks beyond, the sloping meadows draped in layers of hardened snow. Morning sun turned the ice-encased trees into confections of crystalline beauty.
Regis sensed Danilo’s storm cloud mood. “Let’s have it. Are you gladshe rejected me?”
“When were you going to tell me?” Danilo said tightly. “On your wedding night? Or when you ordered me to find housing elsewhere?”
“I amtelling you, now. I swear to you I did not come here with the intention of proposing marriage to her, or even asking her to become my ceremonial consort—”
“Or your seamstress, for all that matters! You owe me no explanations, vai dom.”
“Danilo, don’t go all formal, my-lord-this, my-lord-that, on me. I only decided on it last night.”
I know what you were doing last night.
“Stop it!” Regis cried. “If I’ve given you cause to be jealous, tell me. I won’t have it festering between us. If all the malicious gossip of the court, not to mention Grandfather’s machinations, could not drive a wedge between us, how can one failed marriage proposal?”
“You think I’m jealous?” Danilo turned to him, and Regis saw the hurt in his paxman’s eyes. “That’s not it at all! I know very well that you are expected to furnish the Comyn with as many sons as you can. I accepted your liaisons with women over the years, even the malicious gossipyou spoke of. Did I complain when you and Linnea became lovers? Did I do anything to make life more difficult for you? Did I ever—once—ask you to set her or any other woman aside?”
“No, you have ever been faithful to the vows we swore to one another.” If there has been a failing, it has been mine.
“Then why this sudden change?” Danilo demanded. “Why, when you were so opposed to marriage, when you consistently defied your grandfather and the entire Council on the matter, did you suddenly take it into your head to propose? Why did you keep it secret? Do you have so little trust in me? What else are you hiding?”
Regis rocked back in the saddle, causing the pony to flick its tail in protest. Danilo’s anguish brought back the wretched fight surrounding Crystal Di Asturien’s pregnancy. Regis ought to have told Danilo himself, but the news had come, in the most spiteful manner, from Dyan Ardais. Danilo had been hurt and outraged, then as now. His sense of betrayal had not arisen from Regis sleeping with a woman but from the secrecy about an event that had the power to drastically alter both their lives.
“I’ve never kept my relationship with Linnea secret,” Regis protested. “You knew that if I ever gave in to Grandfather’s demands, she would be the one. You and she get along tolerably well, and I thought of her as a friend. More than that, she is of my own choosing, not some brood mare selected for me by the Council.”
“What a nice, convenient solution!” Danilo barked. “You get your grandfather and the Council off your back, and Comyn Castle gets a chatelaine, all at very little trouble to yourself!”
Regis bit back a hot reply. His temper had been in shreds when they began this conversation, and it was increasingly difficult not to take out his frustration on Danilo.
“I suppose what decided me,” Regis said, trying his best to speak calmly, “was seeing little Kierestelli. I had no idea a child could bring me such delight. I don’t want her to grow up not knowing me.”
“And this is why you proposed to her mother, without so much as mentioning the possibility? Excuse me, vai dom,but that is nonsense. You could have ordered the child to be fostered in Thendara, where you might see her at your convenience.”
In his memory, Regis saw the snug little room, heard the lilt of Linnea’s harp and the sweetness of Kierestelli’s flute. In a low voice, he said, “It would not be the same.”
Had he finally encountered something in life in which Danilo had no part? Sadness shivered through him.
How can I choose between them . . . the man I love, to whom I am sworn, and the family I never knew I longed for?
It came to him, in a rush that left him breathless and his hands limp on the reins, that Danilo had made exactly this choice. Made it with without hesitation, without a backward glance, without ever a hint of recrimination at the cost.
“Danilo, do you ever regret what you have given up? I know you were raised cristoforo,and they do not look kindly upon lovers of men. You must have been taught to want a wife and family . . .”
“I am hardly an observant cristoforo.It was my father’s faith, one I accepted without question when I was a child,” Danilo said with such bleak finality that Regis could think of nothing that would reach him.
“As for the other matter, do not trouble yourself. I have never thought to marry, my lord. I am entirely at your service. Perhaps next time you will see fit to advise me before you decide to marry.”
Regis raised one hand to his heart to ease the ache there. He could not remember such a gulf between them. And he did not know what to do to bridge this one.
“Danilo . . .”
“Regis, let it go. Please. We’re both hurt and angry, but it will pass.”
Danilo was right. The proposal had touched a sore point, one that might never be resolved. It was best to let the matter rest and to go on as best they could, knowing they would always have each other.
The interview with Danvan Hastur did not go well. Regis had delayed as long as he could, stopping first at the Terran Headquarters to meet with Dan Lawton. Dan had masked his disappointment well. Felix was making slow progress and would have greatly benefited from having a Keeper as a guide and mentor. Perhaps, as the remnants of the Comyn returned to Thendara during the old Council season, another teacher could be found.
Regis could not help thinking that if only he had handled the situation better, Linnea would at this moment be preparing to come to Thendara. My clumsiness has cost more than my own pride.
Once the visit with Lawton was concluded, the baggage sent on its way, and the pilot given an additional gift for his excellent services, Regis had returned to the townhouse on the pretext of making himself presentable to his grandfather. Danilo performed his duties as paxman and bodyguard with faultless precision and not a hint of personal feeling.
Danvan’s personal servant, a quiet, meticulous man named Rondo, who had come from Castle Hastur about three years ago, ushered Regis into the master suite of the Hastur apartments in Comyn Castle. After the intimacy of Linnea’s chambers at Hig
h Windward, the rooms felt emotionally barren. They were certainly comfortable, warm and well-appointed, the stone walls covered in tapestries. Regis remembered staring at the hanging beside the door leading to his grandfather’s study, trying to decipher which of the two women portrayed was the Blessed Cassilda and which was Camilla, but the threads were so faded, he could not be sure. He imagined the accumulation of years, the unrelenting demands of Comyn honor, blending into an oppressive weight. These walls were no better than the bars of a cage, one that pressed closer with each passing year.
Some day, will I be like Grandfather, an irascible old tyrant with only dreams of past Comyn glories for comfort?Danvan Hastur was revered throughout the Seven Domains. Regis knew that his own unhappiness put such thoughts into his mind.
The servant gestured for Regis to enter his grandfather’s study. Wincing at the formality, Regis turned to Danilo. “You’d better wait here. He’ll be upset enough, and I don’t want him to take it out on you.”
“As you wish.” An unreadable emotion flickered behind Danilo’s eyes. Then he added, in a voice low enough so the servant could not overhear, “Don’t let him bully you, bredhyu.”
Regis felt a smile rise from his heart, stopping just short of his lips. He nodded to Danilo and followed the servant inside. The room, like the rest of the suite, was very much as Regis remembered it, untouched by time. A faint aroma of beeswax polish, paper, and leather book bindings hung in the air. A fire brightened the hearth, and ranks of candles produced enough light for even aged eyes to read easily.
Danvan Hastur stood beside his writing table, bracing himself on one hand, a man who once had been strongly built, of commanding presence, but who had now shriveled into a husk. Looking at his grandfather, Regis felt a wave of pity. Time and too many seasons had quenched the fire that once burned in those blue eyes. How many years did the old man have left, and how many of those would he insist on wasting in service to a world that, very possibly, no longer wanted it?
Regis paused, bowed formally, and then approached. Danvan held out his free hand. Regis took it, feeling the bony joints, the slight trembling in the withered muscles.
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