As the Last Petal Falls

by Jessica Woodard

  “I thought you’d enjoy this.”

  “Oh I am, but,” she narrowed her eyes, “Idiot already belongs to me. As do all my things. You still owe me a gift, Fain MacTíre.”

  “Shall I take you out riding tomorrow? Connelly says it will be clear, and several of the men will be taking time to go visit their families.”

  “Oh yes, please!” Her eyes gleamed with enjoyment, and she turned back to Idiot, whispering happily.

  “Talking to yourself?”

  “Absolutely not. That would be silly.” She sniffed. “I was talking to my horse.”

  “Oh, and that’s not silly at all.”

  “It isn’t as though I was trying to discuss the weather.” She stuck her tongue out. “I was telling her I wished I could ask her where she’s been. She doesn’t look like a horse that was lost in the mountains for over a month.” Belle looked speculatively at Fain. “You haven’t, by any chance, misremembered how long she’s been here, have you? Perhaps you found her weeks and weeks ago, and just never told me?”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve been hiding a snow-white palfrey right under your nose for weeks. Fortunately for me you are completely blind and totally lacking in curiosity.”

  Belle rolled her eyes at his droll response. “You have to admit, it is odd.”

  “Funny you should mention that.” Fain had been wondering about that, himself. Idiot should have been emaciated, or dead, or frozen into a horse-shaped ice cube. Unless, of course, she had been taken away and then brought back and released in a predetermined location, for Belle to make her escape. “It had occurred to me that this horse is more in the condition you might expect if she had been, say, kept in a stable all this time, and only released in the mountains a day or so before I found her.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah?” He raised his eyebrows.

  For a moment she didn’t answer. Then she sighed, and turned from her attentions to the horse.

  “I don’t know, Fain. I don’t know where she was. I honestly thought you might have had her and only now decided to give her back to me. I certainly can’t prove to you that this isn’t all part of some plot. But don’t you think, if it was a plot,” she glowered at him, “that I would have enough sense to make the details fit my story?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps.” She turned away in a huff. “You just don’t want to believe I mean you no harm.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Oh really, Fain MacTíre? It’s ridiculous?” She grew heated, but then stopped abruptly. In one swift motion she drew off her mittens and cast them aside, and then she loosened her wrap and pulled it open, so that it framed her shoulders and chest. She planted her hands on her hips and shifted her weight, and all at once Fain became alarmingly aware that, ever since they made their deal, Belle had done her best not to be provocative. She had made little attempt to change the baggy men’s clothes to better suit her. She had not held herself in such a way as to draw attention. She had not been flaunting her beauty.

  Apparently, that was about to change.

  Right now.

  Her eyes still held a glint of anger, but she dropped into low, beguiling tones. “You don’t want to believe me, Fain.” She took a few slinking strides to close the gap between them as she spoke. “Because if you believed me then you would be out of excuses.” Her hands rose from her swaying hips and came to rest lightly against his chest. “You would have no reason to keep me at arm’s length.” With these final words she melted against him, molding her body to his, laying her head against his chest.

  Fain’s arms crept around her. She snuggled closer to him, slipping her arms beneath the warm, woolen jacket he wore. When she tilted her head back, he saw that the anger in her eyes had been replaced by a fine sheen of tears.

  “I would never hurt you, Fain. Why can’t you believe me?”

  And in that instant, he realized he did. He believed that she would never hurt him, or any of the men. Somehow his heart had won out over his head, without him even realizing it. He tightened his arms around her and gazed full into her face.

  “My foster-sister’s name is Bianca.”

  “What?” Clearly he’d startled her.

  “Her name is Bianca. I was lost in the woods when I was only twelve; that’s the first time Grey Tip jumped on me. I still don’t know why they didn’t eat me.”

  “Fain, why are you—”

  “My father was one of the minor nobles in the kingdom of Toldas, paxman to the late Prince Jestin.” He captured her chin in his hand. “Whatever your reason for coming here, whoever you are, I believe you. You wouldn’t hurt us.”

  Her voice was a whisper. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Because you care.”

  “Yes. I care.”

  She was a heartbeat away, gazing up at him with a longing that he knew was reflected in his own face. Slowly he lowered his mouth down to hers, until he hovered, just above her lips.

  “Belle?”

  “What?”

  “Are you going to slap me again?”

  With a growl of frustration she surged up to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck, locking her mouth on his. She was already pressed against him, but he held her even tighter, crushing their bodies together. Their lips moved eagerly, hungrily, while her hands roamed across his chest, then slid behind him to play along his back. Fain buried one hand in her glorious hair and let the other cup her face, cradling her cheek. He felt her fingers skitter across the lacings of his shirt, seeking the knot that held them closed. She found it and pulled it loose, yanking the lacings open, and Fain made a deep, wordless sound as all his pent-up longing finally broke free.

  “Uh, Mistress Belle?” Fain froze. Some blood trickled back into his brain. He felt Belle disentangle her mouth from his.

  “Yes, John?” There was a carefully controlled quality to her words.

  “They’re ready to douse the lights.” Marlplot was matter-of-fact, as though he had not just interrupted a heated embrace.

  “Oh. Right. The lights. Would you run ahead and tell them we’re coming?” Humor. That was humor in her voice. Where had the wench found the presence of mind to see humor in this?

  “Of course, Miss Belle.” Fain heard footsteps falling away, and opened his eyes. Belle’s face was alight with merriment.

  “Ready to escort me back?”

  “Why don’t I just strangle Marlplot, instead?”

  “He’s bigger than you.”

  “Duly noted. You’ll have to help me.”

  “Oh no,” she giggled and stepped backwards lightly. “John is my friend. You’ll just have to settle for giving him a dirty look.”

  He watched as she rearranged her wrap. “We’re really going, then?”

  “He’ll only come back if we don’t.” Belle twined her hands around his arm and gave a happy smile. “Take me back to the party, Master MacTíre. I’m going to dance with the sparkles until dawn.”

  With a courtly bow, he escorted her from the stables.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was a beautiful day for riding. Vivienne was singing to herself as she dressed in her newly recovered divided skirts. The shortened, slightly flared skirt would have seemed terribly plain at home, but after weeks of men’s breeches, Vivienne felt excessively feminine in it. The same was true of her fine wool blouse with only one small ruffle around the collar. She struggled with her hair before sighing and braiding it back in a simple style. She’d never been good at dressing her own hair, but with her arm still aching it was now an impossible task.

  Her riding coat had been ruined the night Connelly cut it off, but the wrap Billy had found for her would still do. She bundled herself up, hastily pulled on her mittens, and stuck her head out the chamber door.

  “Ready, Sean?”

  “Ready, Mistress.”

  Vivi took the arm offered to her, and chatted with Sean Kelly as he escorted her down to the stables.

  “Will you be visiting your
family while the weather’s clear?”

  He shook his head. “I told MacTíre I’d stay for the next foray. I got to see my sister before the storms hit, anyway.”

  “Still, she must miss you.”

  “Betimes I think it’s harder on her when I’m home. The nephews and I make a horrible mess in the house.” He smiled engagingly. “Besides, some of the other men haven’t seen their families since spring. They deserve the chance to go.”

  “Yes, John told me he was looking forward to seeing his mother.”

  “Like as not he’s looking forward to seeing the huge meals she makes him.”

  Laughing and talking, they came into the clear sunlight in the bailey. Fain was waiting on them, with Idiot and his own stallion saddled and waiting. Vivienne bid Sean goodbye and went to meet him with a smile.

  “Good morning, Master MacTíre.”

  “Good morning yourself, Mistress Belle. Ready for a day in the woods?”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” Vivienne realized she was gazing up at Fain like a besotted fool, but she couldn’t seem to draw her face into a more reserved expression. His eyes were warm and happy as they looked into her own, and the ghost of a smile played along his lips. They might have stood there indefinitely, staring at one another, but Idiot nudged Vivi in the shoulder.

  “I think they’re anxious to stretch their legs.”

  “Then let’s be off.” Fain offered her a hand, but she gave him a look of amused disdain. As a hairdresser she might be a dismal failure, but as a horsewoman she excelled. She vaulted up into the saddle and arranged her skirts, then simpered down at him. “What are you waiting for?”

  Fain handed her several lap robes to bundle up with and tossed one up to his own saddle for himself. In a moment he was mounted, and they headed out. Vivi let him pick their path across the valley and into the woods. The flat, featureless plain gave way to majestic trees, their branches and needles coated in glimmering sheets of ice. Fain steered them down the bank of the stream, heading away from the mushroom cave, and Vivi found that there was enough space for them to ride abreast much of the way. The forest was peaceful; only a few muted bird calls drifted through the air. The rest of nature slumbered, blanketed in snow glowing softly in the cold winter sun.

  “Where are we headed?”

  “If I told you, it would ruin the surprise. Ask something else.”

  “All right. When do you think your informant will return? “

  He looked bemused at her topic choice, but answered readily enough. “I actually thought he would be returning long before now, but the weather has been wretched. Now that it’s clear, he should be back soon.”

  “What are you going to do then?” She spoke playfully, but her stomach tightened. Fain answered slowly.

  “I don’t know; I suppose it depends on what he tells me.”

  She bit her lip. “Fain, there’s something you should probably know.”

  “About who you are?”

  “Yes.” She spoke low, but he heard her.

  “Are you a spy, Belle?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Are you a danger to my men?”

  “No.”

  “Then don’t tell me today.”

  “What?” She was confused. “Why?”

  “Belle...” He looked over at her, and then quickly looked away, studying the landscape. “I’ve given some thought to what Baines might tell me when he returns. I’ve thought about all you’ve told me. Except for your name, you haven’t lied to me, have you?”

  “Not much, no. Just details.”

  “That’s what I thought. You aren’t a commoner, Belle. And you aren’t a spy. I can’t keep you here forever. What will you do when you’re free to leave?”

  “I’ll go home, and resume my—” She cut off. “Fain, how long will you be... embroiled here?”

  His mouth twisted. “Always. I’ll always be here, Belle.”

  She gasped. “You’ll never be done?”

  “There is no one else to do what I do.” His voice was hard.

  “Would you... would you ever quit? Leave Toldas? Go... go somewhere else?”

  “Like I said, there is no one else to do this job. I can’t leave. I can’t abandon my men.”

  Vivienne spoke haltingly. “So, if I leave...”

  “You’ll be leaving me behind, yes.”

  Two trees grew perilously close to the water’s edge, and they had to go single file around them. Vivi watched Fain’s back ahead of her. His shoulders were tight and his spine was ramrod straight. She knew he wouldn’t bend, not if it meant giving up his responsibilities. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she understood.

  “Fain, I can’t stay here.”

  “I know, Belle; you can’t live out in the wilderness forever.”

  “It’s not that. I am my father’s heir. I have obligations and responsibilities of my own. This trip was always meant to be a short one. A little rebellion, a little adventure. I never meant to run away from my duty permanently.” Her heart was breaking. Her father had always spoken about the sacrifice required of a ruler, but she had never really understood. Not until now. Not until she had something she couldn’t bear to lose.

  He gave her a sad smile. “I understand.”

  They reined up at the edge of a cliff. The stream they had been following tumbled down the cliffside in a turbulent waterfall. In the cold winter air, the fall had frozen, leaving the foaming waters still and sparkling in the sunlight. Vivienne stared in wonder as she slid from Idiot’s back and moved closer.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “I thought you’d like it.”

  Fain dismounted and moved up behind her, wrapping her in his arms. They stood together, looking out over the frozen waterfall, and a tear rolled down Vivi’s cheek. Fain reached his gloved hand to wipe it away before it could freeze.

  “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

  All of a sudden, Vivienne felt her sadness give way. She shook her head, on fire with a new determination.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No, I do not accept this.”

  “Belle, I—”

  “Don’t you say a word, Fain MacTíre.” She turned in his arms to face him. “I am the most stubborn and willful woman born to my house in seven generations. And my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother led the kitchen women in an armed revolt against a band of usurping thugs. I will find a way for us to be together. I simply refuse to have it any other way.”

  “You don’t under—”

  “I said not a word.” She reached up and took his face in both her hands and searched his eyes. “Unless you don’t want me to be with you. Is that it?”

  “No, of course I want—”

  “Then it’s settled.” She paused, and cocked her head inquiringly. “Well? I’m waiting.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me to talk.”

  Vivi smoldered up at him. “I don’t.”

  Fain threw his head back and laughed. As the sound came echoing back across the frozen water, he leaned down and grazed his mouth across hers. “I shall leave it in your capable hands.” He placed a kiss lightly on each cheek. “Of course, I wouldn’t be disappointed if you turned out to be a milkmaid.” Blowing gently in her ear, he murmured, “Or a shepherdess.” He nibbled a line down her neck, and Vivienne shivered as he whispered, “Or a goose girl.”

  “Fain,” her voice was breathy and unsteady, “please—”

  “Please, what, little farmer-ess?”

  “Stop talking.”

  Fain chuckled, and then applied his lips to the space just behind her right ear. Vivienne heard a gasp, and vaguely realized it had come from herself. She turned her head and found his mouth with her own, feeling the fiery warmth it engendered spread all the way to her icy fingertips. She let her hands sink into his unruly mane of hair, down his neck, and out the broad line of his shoulders. His hands slid beneath her wrap and ran up her back, pulling her firmly
against his chest. All the while, their lips and tongues moved together, creating an island of heat in the middle of the frozen forest.

  Vivienne leaned into him, tangling her fingers in his woolen scarf, pulling his head closer, sealing their mouths together. She ran her hands along his chest, eager to touch more of him, wanting to feel his warm skin against her own, but the layers of leather and fur that surrounded him thwarted her. She growled in frustration and Fain let loose a swift bark of laughter, abruptly silenced when she yanked his face back to her own and kissed him with such frantic intensity that he groaned and crushed her to his chest.

  Sweeping her up in his arms, he turned and made his way back to his mount while Vivienne did her best to drive him utterly mad. She had just taken his bottom lip between her teeth and was slowly licking it when he set her down and pulled back slightly.

  “Belle, there’s nothing but frozen surfaces for miles around.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Vivi was not going to be distracted.

  “You are maddening. Wait a moment.”

  He pulled the lap robes off both horses and strode back to the point overlooking the waterfall, where a fallen log created a natural depression in the snow. He threw one blanket down, lining the hollow, and then sat and pulled Vivienne down with him, bringing the other blankets up to encase them completely. Vivienne felt their little pocket of air warming rapidly and smiled at him in delight.

  “And here I thought we would freeze.” He started to reply, but she kissed him again, coaxing his tongue to do something more useful than talking. Her hands busily unwrapped his layers until she could push them from his shoulders in one swift move. Fain struggled a moment to free himself, and then helped her with her own wrap. He moved to take her in his arms, but she pushed him flat on his back and sprawled on top of him, tenting the blanket above her shoulders.

  “The thing about stubborn and willful women, Master MacTíre, is that we like to be in charge.”

  “Even when you’re trying something new?”

  “ Especially when we’re trying something new.” She tugged on his linen shirt until the tails came free from his waistband. “But we enjoy skillfully delivered instruction.” She unlaced the collar with nimble fingers, and then dipped her face down to flick her tongue across the hollow at the base of his throat. “For instance, do you prefer this, “ she took one more taste of his neck, then moved on to one of the barely visible scars that ran across his chest and began placing wet kisses all along it, “or this?”