by Glenda Diana
"You do love another. I can hear it in your voice. Who is that you have these feelings for?"
Arysa shook her head. "Your thinking is warped. I have no tender feeling for anyone."
Zebual sighed. "Thank you for your care this evening."
It was his way of dismissing her, wanting her to leave. Arysa wanted to say something, but what? She had hurt his feelings, which in return hurt her own. "I would marry you, Zebual. If ... "
"Arysa, you are tenderhearted and sweet of nature, but we have always had honesty between us and that was one of the greatest joys of our relationship. Let's not get entangled with lies. I could never hope or imagine having a young woman, such as you, love me ... not the way I appear now. When we joined, I was healthy and strong and had much to offer. Now, I would find it hard to tempt a maiden of stone in the condition I'm in."
"That's not true, Zebual," she scolded. "You are a very handsome man. Soon we'll have you stronger."
Zebual closed his eyes and sighed. "You are too generous with your words and for that I am grateful. But give me some credit for having a very good mind. Any woman would look at me and be repulsed at the very thought of kissing me, but the thought of laying beside me throughout the night would send them cowering to the nearest corner."
"If you weren't sick I would probably hit you for such a remark," Arysa gritted out. "Only a stupid woman would do and be as you say."
Zebual leaned back so that he could see her face. "And would you kiss me?"
Arysa blushed.
With a mocking lift of his brow he continued to stare at her. "There, you see."
She felt like slapping him for his ill thinking, but it wasn't his fault. He saw himself through his eyes and was revolted by what he had become. Fighting down her blush, she moved down into the bed so that he could snuggle up beside her as he had done before. Her hand softly caressed his back as she continued thinking of how best to soothe his hurt feelings. If she told him that she had fallen in love with him, he would only scorn her words with his disbelief.
Zebual buried his face against her neck and inhaled the fragrance of her skin. He could feel the tension and apprehension that seemed to boil in her veins. Another shiver shot through him, a shiver that had nothing to do with the fever in his body.
"Apparently, the cold bath didn't help," she sighed. Leaning up on her elbow, she nudged him back so that she could feel his brow. He was still warm to the touch, but at least his fever wasn't burning as hot. His words played through her mind and she pushed them away.
"Thank you for your efforts anyway."
She nodded her head and started to lie back down, but then her gaze met his and she saw the glowing redness shimmering in the depth of his blue eyes. It seemed as though whenever he was upset or overly tired the crimson glow appeared. Then her gaze moved down to where his lips were pressed tightly together.
Zebual held his breath when he felt her draw closer to him. It was the lightest touch he had ever felt, but it was enough to knock the very air from within him and to make his heart drop with a thudding pain.
Arysa pulled back slightly and stared at his lips for a moment and then leaned forward again. Softly she brushed her mouth to his once more. She couldn't believe what she was doing. It had taken her weeks to build this new relationship between them ... a relationship that had turned out to be more than she had expected. In many ways they were alike and for that reason the accord that existed between them was magnified.
Zebual finally gained enough control over his emotions so that he opened his eyes and found her staring at his lips. He must have made a noise for her gaze moved up to clash with his. He tried to read the expression on her face, but he couldn't. He was too preoccupied with his own feelings. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, he felt awareness like he never had before.
"Are you repulsed?" he asked.
"Do I look repulsed?" she replied, briefly glancing down at his lips.
"No, but you could be hiding it."
She couldn't help but smile. "I could be, but I'm not."
When she started to back away, he reached out and touched the side of her face. "Tell me why you kissed me, Arysa."
She couldn't help the blush that heated her cheeks. "I don't know. Maybe to show you how wrong you are in your thinking."
"I see," he murmured.
"Or maybe because I wanted to ... felt the need to."
"Could I return the need and want?" he asked softly. Cupping the back of her neck, he gently pulled her to him. His mouth lightly caressed hers. The soft gasp she made had his heart pounding rapidly. A growl formed on his lips and he swallowed it.
"I think that I should return to my room now," she breathed out.
"Please stay with me ... marry me."
"Marrying me wouldn't cure you, Zebual." She was trying to sound reasonable as she fought against the emotions that had been stirred to the world of wakefulness. The only time she had felt these kind of churning sensations had been in her sleep and with Him.
"My touch, does it repel you?"
Arysa shook her head.
His hand moved down the side of her neck, past her collarbone, down until his hand was filled with her lush breast. "You're heart is pounding," he whispered. "Tell me, what you feel?"
"I'm not sure. Frightened, uncertain, and ... "
"And?"
She licked her dry lips. "Please ... I need to go," she whispered.
Before he could say anything, she was up and running from his room. He relaxed slightly when there came no slamming of her door. Closing his eyes, he tried to sort through his emotions. He could still feel the butterfly touch of her lips upon his. How long had it been since he had felt like this? So long that he could just vaguely remember.
What would tomorrow hold? Would she shy away from him or would she avoid him? He dropped his hand. No, that wasn't Arysa's way. She would act as though none of it had happened, he decided.
If only he could.
*~*
Happiness filled her with each breath she took. The scent of love filled her nostrils and made its way slowly through her body and left her feeling as though she were unconquerable and then it eased from every pore of her body to drench those around her.
Her heart fluttered against her chest and a smile came to her face. Though she wanted to believe that nothing could touch her or touch them she knew it wasn't so. But now was not the time to worry. Later, she sighed as her hand sought out the source of her love.
Emptiness met her ... making a shiver course through her.
The sound of thunder brought fear and clarity.
As with all things, happiness intimidates and frightens. There was unrest and hate brewing not far from her ... she could feel it.
Arysa sat at the kitchen table sipping at her cup of steaming coffee. The late morning sun shone through the windows, but she took no notice. Her thoughts were tangled around each other just as were her emotions. The scene from the night before played over and over in her mind, tormenting her with its presence.
"I checked on Zebual this morning," Mrs. Reed stated from her position at the stove. "He seems to be feeling better."
Arysa looked up. "You checked on him? How? He usually has both his doors locked until evening."
"Actually, Justin did. I didn't see Zebual."
"Justin was in there with him?"
"Yes, he was."
"How nice." Arysa's anger simmered. He kept her locked from his room and yet Justin could come and go as he pleased.
"Now, don't be getting upset, lass. Justin also said that Zebual wanted his evening meal served no later than dark."
"He should share his meal with Justin instead of me," Arysa muttered.
"What's that, lass?"
"Nothing."
"Are you all right?"
"Yes ... no ... I don't know," Arysa mumbled and took another sip.
Mrs. Reed poured herself a cup of coffee and joined Arysa at the table. For several mom
ents she watched the expressions that moved over the young woman's face. Taking a deep breath she released it slowly. "I couldn't help but notice how well you and Zebual get along now."
Arysa pulled herself from her thoughts as her eyes met with Mrs. Reed's. Instinctively, she knew that the older woman had more to say.
"You care for him again. That's good. A mate should have a care for the one she's joined with."
Arysa held her silence as she took another sip.
"Do you find it disturbing that you care for him?"
Lowering her cup, Arysa stared at the older woman. Mrs. Reed was testing the water, she was curious as to the new relationship that had formed between Arysa and Zebual. Arysa had to remind herself that Mrs. Reed cared deeply for the well being of Zebual and she was in her own way protecting him.
"I do care for Zebual." Arysa's words came out on a soft murmur.
"A person has to look past the outer shell of the man and see what lies within."
The cup Arysa was holding hit the table with a loud thunk. "I'll have you know that there is nothing wrong with his looks!" she snapped out. "Tell me, just how is he supposed to look with this sickness that he has?"
"Don't break my cups." Mrs. Reed scolded and then smiled. "I didn't say that there was anything wrong with his looks. You seemed unhappy about caring for him. I thought perhaps it was something to do with the way he appears."
"Well, it's not." Arysa took a deep breath. "He asked me to marry him," she whispered.
The older woman's eyes widened slightly. "You don't say?"
Arysa's dark brows lowered into a frown. "He shouldn't have asked me,"
"Why?"
"Because."
Mrs. Reed laughed and patted the young woman's hand. "You're not frightened of him, that I know. I seen the two of you together last night and you acted like a mother bear protecting her cub."
"If I'm joined with him already then there is no need to join again."
Mrs. Reed smiled. "I would imagine that Zebual gave a reason for asking. Did you give him a answer?"
"No," Arysa sighed.
"Do you love another?"
Arysa narrowed her eyes. "You sound more and more like him. I do not love another."
"I don't know," Mrs. Reed said in a thoughtful tone. "I've seen you many of times standing in front of the portrait of Connor. You ain't by chance in love with the old Lord, are you?"
"What nonsense," she muttered, as her cheeks heated more. She did spend a good deal of time staring up at the formable image of the old Lord of the Manor. For some reason she thought of him as the lover in her dreams. Why? She wasn't sure other than she was indeed insane.
"Not so much nonsense as you think. He was a handsome man to be sure. From what was said, he could have any woman his heart desired, but he only desired one ... and he loved her with all he had. At least that's what they say."
"And who is 'they'?" Arysa shook her head. "Never mind or you'll start telling me ghost stories. Shall I point out that the man you're speaking of is dead and has been dead for hundreds of years?"
Mrs. Reed laughed. "But some say ... "
"I don't care what anyone says." Arysa interrupted. "If there are ghosts here in the Manor then they are the nicest form of ghost to have."
Mrs. Reed flushed and cleared her throat. "So, what will you do about Zebual?"
"I don't know." Arysa gave a long sigh and reached for her cup. "I do care for him."
"Perhaps, he wants more than caring for, lass."
The words were stated softly. But their meaning was like a thunderous explosion to Arysa's ears. Her hands trembled so badly that she had to put her cup back down on the table.
"I see you get my meaning. Does the thought of him wanting you in that way upset you?"
"What a question to ask!" Arysa felt like sinking beneath the table.
"It's a normal one." Mrs. Reed looked at Arysa's scarlet face and smiled. "You already know what he wants."
"How can you sit there smiling?!" she demanded.
"If you don't' want to marry him, lass, then tell him no. And if it's the other part that disgusts you, then you should say no to his offer. But if it's only fear then I think you need to look deeper for your answers."
"I don't know what I want. But he doesn't disgust me," she murmured.
"I didn't say that he did, I was referring to ... "
"I know what you were referring to!"
"And that part doesn't disgust you?"
"I have things to do," Arysa grumbled, as she got to her feet.
"You can run from me, lass, but not from the answers to your questions."
Zebual was leaning back on his bed, his gaze on Arysa. She was nervous and uncomfortable. His heart ached over the knowledge that his question last night had brought her to such a state. He could make it so much easier if he just told her to forget everything that happened the night before, but he couldn't bring himself to say words that he didn't mean.
"Arysa, come here." He patted the area next to him on the bed.
Her large green eyes widened when she turned to look at him.
"You make me feel as though I'm the most evil of persons. Please ... "
The tension in Arysa faded at the slight smile on his face. "A regular troll is what you are," she murmured, crossing the room and climbing upon the bed next to him.
"A troll? I thought you might be thinking of me along the lines of a dragon." Taking her hand in his, he laced his long thin fingers with her short graceful ones. "Do you see me as a creature that will gobble you up?"
"Zebual, don't ... "
"I know, you're going to reprimand me for thinking badly of myself, but I thought perhaps you might be seeing me in such a way this evening."
"How are you feeling?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.
"Sick ... sick of being sick. Do you dislike me now?"
She tightened her fingers on his gently. "No, Zebual. I could never dislike you."
"Would it be too horrible if I asked you just what it is that you do feel toward me?"
Her eyes met his and again she could see the flicker of red deep in their depth. Though he was trying to deny it, he was not as calm as he was letting on. "Honestly?" she whispered.
He nodded his head. "Honestly. As I told you last night, we have always been honest with one another, I would never want that to change out of fear of hurting my feelings."
Arysa had the urge to shake her head. No one had to think unkind thoughts of Zebual, he did that enough by himself. "Honestly ... my feelings for you confuse me," she whispered.
His fingers untwined with hers. It broke his heart to see the distorted view of himself in the emerald glow of her eyes. She was so fresh, while he was deteriorating. He was death, while she was life. Raising his hand he brushed his fingertips against the cool skin on her face, brushing upward and then down so that she closed her eyes against the sight of him.
Her breathing stopped as his fingers moved over her face. Then she felt his hand drop away. Arysa opened her eyes to see him turn his head away from her. The veins in his neck stood out in stark contrast, his jaw was clenched and he had his eyes closed. She thought at first that he might be in pain, but the rise of his chest told her that something else was wrong.
"Look at me, Zebual."
"I believe I want some time alone this evening," he replied.
"You'll look at me now or I'll leave and not return tomorrow night or the next night or the next."
Zebual turned to glare at her. "Coercion does not suit you, my dear."
"Maybe not, but you're rather good at pushing me away whenever the mood strikes you. I told you I was tired of being pushed and pulled. From here on out, I'll not stand for it."
She was angry. Her eyes snapped green fire and her words though soft had an edge to them that he hadn't heard in some time. "I'm neither pushing nor pulling at you."
"Aren't you? No wonder I'm confused. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel toward you
. Every time we make a little leeway you end up destroying it."
"You're being unreasonable. I think a nice evening of rest is what you need."
Arysa gritted her teeth. "Don't patronize me either."
"And don't raise your voice to me," Zebual practically growled out. "My head is pounding as it is, I don't need you making it worse."
Arysa was fuming. Climbing down from the bed, she turned to glare at him. "You infuriate me! No wonder I think I'm daft! I am!"
Zebual winced when he heard her slam the door to her room. Once again he could give himself high marks for turning what could have been a nice evening into a rotten one. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. She hadn't in so many words said anything that would make him feel as though he was cast adrift, but yet that's exactly how he felt. He had told her to be honest and in return she had been. So, why had he tossed her honesty back into her face? Hell, he didn't know.
It wasn't like he had a lifetime to deal with all of this. His time was nearly gone and the only thing he had managed to do was push her away yet again ... and infuriate her. He couldn't help but smile at that. She was something when her temper was riding high. It was one of the things that he loved most about her ... her ability to show all her emotions.
After pacing her room, Arysa felt too confined and decided that a walk in the garden was just what she needed to cool down. Just as she reached the first floor Mrs. Reed came into view.
"Is there anything wrong?"
"No," Arysa said. "I just needed some fresh air."
Mrs. Reed glanced at the upper landing. "You couldn't have had time to eat."
"I'm not very hungry this evening."
"Nonsense. Go take in some fresh air and I'll fix you a plate."
Arysa started to tell her no thank you, but stopped herself. Just because she was angry at Zebual didn't mean that she had to starve herself. "Thank you. Just give me a call when you have it ready."
"No need to thank me, lass."
Arysa continued on her way. She had wanted to talk with Zebual but instead she had lost her temper. The man sorely loved to irritate her. Stepping outside the cool night air greeted her. Darkness fell over the garden lending it a quiet, almost ethereal appearance. It felt so strange not to be upstairs with Zebual. She missed him already and that acknowledgement only served to irritate her more.
