Touch of Passion

by Susan Spencer Paul

  She said his name and began to move toward him, and Dyfed found himself striding full-length to meet her. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was he intended—perhaps to say something or even kiss her—but he certainly didn’t expect what happened.

  They went into each other’s arms, found each other’s mouths—and promptly lost their senses. There wasn’t a slow building of desire or even a few moments to explore and discover; they went straight from physical contact to desperate need.

  The impact of the sensation was like being flung against a brick wall. Dyfed felt as if someone had set his body on fire and inflated his head to the point of exploding, both at the same time. His hands pressed Desdemona’s slight body against his own with all the strength he possessed and her hands did the same to him, but they couldn’t get close enough. They had to be one, now, or perish from want.

  He had never known anything like this before, and, frankly, it was terrifying.

  With a strength he didn’t know he possessed, Dyfed managed to push her to arm’s length. Gasping for air, he said, “This is madness. And it’s wrong.”

  She nodded, shuddering for breath. “I’m frightened by it, too.”

  And that was the end of all discussion.

  He took her there, to his absolute shock, right on the muddy ground, with her velvet cloak spread out as her only cushion. They tumbled down, tearing at each other’s clothes, and then, with her skirts tossed up about her waist and half his trouser buttons torn off, he was thrusting inside of her. She rose up to meet him, and their movements became one, forceful, powerful, blinding in pleasure.

  Only one word swept through his chaotic thoughts as he surrendered to the desire that drove them both. Bliss. This was as close to heaven on earth as he was likely to get. No other woman had given him this feeling; he knew with honest clarity that no other woman would.

  “Desdemona.” Her name tumbled off his tongue unbidden, and the sound of it made her weep.

  “Dyfed,” she whispered urgently, as if it were a plea, holding him, moving with him. “Dyfed. Dyfed.”

  Over and over she said it as they rose together to fulfillment, until the sweet release swept over them. It was so powerful that Dyfed’s mind swam dizzily and for a moment he was completely disoriented. He collapsed on top of her, unable to spare her small, delicate body from his full weight. But she didn’t seem to mind. Her legs and arms wrapped about him, hugging tightly as if she never wanted him to rise again.

  She was still weeping. The sound penetrated Dyfed’s whirling brain and brought him to his senses. Lifting his head, he gazed into her violet eyes and with a gentle hand swept the hair from her face.

  “What’s the matter, darling?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I never cry. At least, not since I was a child. But you’ve done something to me …”

  He lowered his head and kissed her softly. “Something’s happened to both of us,” he murmured. “This has to do with magic, Desdemona Caslin. You know that, too, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I know. Oh no, don’t,” she said when he began to rise, disengaging their bodies. “Stay.”

  He smiled and kissed her again. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make love to you again before we part. Far more slowly, if that’s possible, and if rain isn’t pouring down upon us.”

  He sat up and did his best to rearrange their clothes, then drew Desdemona into a sitting position and set both his arms and cloak about her to keep her warm. “This is a damnable place to have had this happen. We’re both covered in mud, and anyone riding by might see us. I think we’ve both lost our senses. Please don’t cry anymore, Desdemona. Are you so unhappy to find yourself sharing an enchantment of some sort with me?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, wiping her face. “It was never foretold that I should have one who was fated for me, but it’s the only explanation. I just … it just seems impossible that it should be with you. You’re not even a powerful wizard.”

  “Fated?” he repeated, ignoring the insulting tone regarding his lack of powers. “I’m sure it can’t be. We call such ones unoliaeth, or oneness, and that kind of union wasn’t foretold for me, either. My brother, Lord Tylluan, has one, but not me.”

  “I know,” Desdemona replied, and he heard a touch of bitterness in her tone. “He came to Llew and warned Cadmaran of your journey to London with this woman. His unoliaeth, he called her, and made a vow before the Guardians of what he would do to anyone who might harm her.”

  “Kian went to Llew?” Dyfed was astonished by this news. “He spoke with Cadmaran? And with you?”

  “He came alone, and for that I must admire him, but I hate him for all the rest.”

  “Why on earth should you hate Kian?” Dyfed asked. “He’s done nothing to you.”

  “He’s sending you away to guard his woman, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. Or you.” She looked up at him, lifting one cold, ungloved hand to cradle his face. “I cannot bear the thought of being parted from you, now that I’ve found you. These past three days have been endless for me. Please don’t go away to London. Let someone else take Lord Tylluan’s fated one there.”

  “I would if it were possible,” Dyfed told her honestly. “But Kian is my lord as well as my brother, and I cannot gainsay him. There is but one way for me to return to Tylluan, and you hold that power in your hands. Tell me about what you’ve been doing for Cadmaran, and how it is that you came to be with him.”

  “I cannot tell you everything,” she said, lowering her gaze and leaning more closely against him. “Lord Llew asked a favor of my father, and offered him a great deal of money in return. My coming was part of their agreement. Please believe me when I tell you that I did not know I would be left behind when my father departed. I hate everything about England, excepting you, and wish I might make you my captive and take you back to America. But as I cannot compel you to do my bidding,” she said sadly, “then I must stay here, where you are.”

  “Yes, you must.” Dyfed smiled at the thought. He certainly had no intention of letting her go so far away. “But that doesn’t solve our more immediate problem. I know that you’re not the one who has directly caused the troubles here, but you have something to do with them. And until those troubles have stopped, Kian won’t allow Loris to come back to Tylluan, and I’ll be made to remain in London to chaperone her.”

  “But why?” Desdemona asked miserably, clinging to him. “Surely you can find someone else to take the woman. I hate her. And I hate your brother for sending you away.”

  Dyfed didn’t know why he should find the childish, petulant statement so amusing. His relationship with Desdemona was clearly going to be a trying one. She had obviously been terribly spoiled and would require a very firm hand.

  “Hating my brother isn’t going to do us any good. If you don’t want me to be gone for any great length of time, then you’ll have to help him rid Tylluan of this evil.”

  She glanced up, troubled, even slightly regretful. “It won’t do any good, Dyfed. I control the creature now and it does my bidding, but I cannot keep it from seeking food when it grows hungry. If I do not take it out and let it feed, it will go anyway, and do as it pleases.”

  “What is this creature?”

  She hesitated. Overhead a rumble of thunder sounded. “It is one of the ancient creatures, held in slumber by enchantments performed long ago by your ancestors, but raised back to life by my father. Cadmaran knew, or discovered by some means, that long generations of Caslins have retained the knowledge of how to unlock certain enchantments.”

  “But I thought that was forbidden by the Guardians,” Dyfed said.

  “If it is, it hasn’t stopped wizards like my father from carrying on the tradition. But the secrets are held very dear within my family, so that Cadmaran was obliged to have my father come to him to perform the spell that brought the athanc back to life.”

  “Athanc?” Dyfed had a dim memory of the word fr
om one of his father’s stories.

  “It lives deep within the lake,” she said, “and comes out only at night and only to feed. But it’s a clumsy, stupid brute, and without guidance it won’t discern animals from humans. In a way, I’ve done your brother a favor, for I’ve kept the creature from killing any mortals.”

  “It lives in the lake,” Dyfed repeated thoughtfully. “That would explain the water. But how does it travel without leaving a trail? From the damage it wreaks it must be quite a large creature.”

  “It can be,” she said. “But it can also make itself small. The beast can transform itself into liquid and travel underground, rising where it wishes. But it cannot go far from the lake, else it would weaken and perhaps fall back into darkness. But before it did, I believe it would cause a great deal of destruction, for it can grow angry at the least cause.”

  A cold breeze blew over them, riffling their hair and chilling their faces, though they were warm enough pressed together beneath his cloak. Dyfed glanced up and saw that the dark clouds were about to open.

  “Can it be killed?” he asked.

  Desdemona shook her head. “None of the ancient monsters can be destroyed. They can only be returned to slumber, and the only wizard I know who can perform such an enchantment is my father, who is back in America. And even if he wasn’t, I doubt he’d agree to help your brother, except, perhaps, for a very great price.”

  “Your father may be the greatest wizard in America,” Dyfed said, “but I believe our Dewin Mawr could match, and perhaps even best, him. And Kian isn’t far behind in powers.”

  “I have felt his strength,” she said, “but they will avail him nothing if he does not know the ancient incantations.”

  “Do you know them, Desdemona?” Dyfed demanded, touching her chin to lift her gaze to his own. “You must tell me truthfully if you do.”

  “My father has been careful to keep them to himself. It’s the truth!” she said insistently when Dyfed looked at her askance. “Can you think that I would lie to you now if I possessed the knowledge to keep you from leaving me? I only know how to call the beast and manage it, and how to send it back to the depths for rest. Nothing more.”

  “And you do this for Cadmaran willingly?”

  Another clap of thunder, louder this time, and the first few drops of rain began to softly fall. Dyfed ignored it and continued to gaze at her, waiting for an answer. Desdemona lifted a hand high up into the chilly breeze and placed some kind of invisible shield about them. The rain continued to fall, but not on them, and the wind could no longer touch them.

  Dyfed was impressed. “You’re a useful female to have about,” he said, sliding a finger down her soft cheek in a gentle caress. “Now tell me about Cadmaran.”

  “He doesn’t care about your brother,” she said. “It’s your cousin, the one you call Dewin Mawr, that he wants. He knows your brother doesn’t possess the powers necessary to rid Tylluan of the athanc, and will be forced to call for your greatest sorcerer to come to his aid. Cadmaran wants to challenge him, and he can’t do that unless Lord Graymar first comes to Llew.”

  “But why are you helping him?” Dyfed asked again. “Because your father sold your services to Lord Llew and you have no choice but to do his bidding? Because you want to?” His grip on her tightened. “Are you in love with him?”

  “No!” Desdemona put her arms about Dyfed’s neck and held him tightly. “I can’t abide being near him. I stay at Llew only because there is nowhere else, and I do what he asks with the beast in order to get away from him for a few blessed hours. I cannot go home, for my father would only send me back, after he had punished me for disobedience. I have no family here, no acquaintances, save Cadmaran. My powers are great, yet I have no notion of how to live apart from my kind.”

  “You have me now,” Dyfed said fiercely. “I’ll take care of you.”

  “You’re about to leave me,” she murmured, and the rain around them began to fall harder. “Shall I follow you to London in order to be with you? It’s what I wish, but I cannot think it’s what you want of me.”

  “Can Cadmaran control the beast?”

  “No. My father forbade me to share the secrets of managing the athanc, and I’d not tell Cadmaran even if I could. If you believe the damage it’s done thus far has been terrible, only imagine what Cadmaran would do. He hates all Seymours and enjoys nothing better than to see your brother running hither and yon, hopelessly trying to find a solution.”

  Dyfed nodded soberly. “He has always taken pleasure from any troubles that befall us, most of them at his hands. You’re right. He cannot have power over the creature.”

  “And left to its own devices, it would run wild, just as I’ve told you, driven by hunger. Your brother’s tenants would begin to die, mere mortals and magic mortals alike. The beast wouldn’t know the difference.”

  Dyfed knew she spoke the truth. He drew in a tight breath and considered the best course of action.

  “There is little choice left to us, Desdemona,” he said at last. “You must remain here and do whatever you can to keep the athanc from doing too much harm, and I must do what I can while in London to help my brother find the right enchantments for putting the creature back into slumber. Surely my cousin Lord Graymar will have something useful in his library. And there’s a mere mortal there, Professor Seabolt, who might be of help. He’s one of our sympathetics, and knows a great deal about the history of our kind.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” she said, “but Lord Tylluan must never try to contact me. If Cadmaran should become suspicious, he’d likely refuse to let me leave Llew, and within its borders his powers are heightened, while mine are dimmed.”

  “I’ll make certain that Kian never approaches you,” Dyfed promised. “And you must take every care to keep Lord Llew from learning about us.” He gathered her closer.

  “As soon as I return from London, I’ll bring you home to Tylluan. Cadmaran won’t be able to touch you there.”

  “Will your brother allow me to be with you there?” she asked anxiously. “After everything I’ve let the creature do to his lands?”

  “If you can keep any of his people from dying,” Dyfed said, “and if you’ll do what you can to help him rid Tylluan of the athanc, he’ll be in your debt. You’ll be welcomed at Tylluan, Desdemona. I promise you that.”

  “For that,” she whispered, “and to bring you home I’ll do everything possible. Please come back as quickly as you can. I don’t know how many days I can endure being apart from you, now that I’ve found you.”

  Dyfed understood what she meant. He’d longed to see her, touch her, every moment since they’d parted ways three nights ago. And though they’d only just sated their passion, that same desire flared again, even more heated than it had been before. This magic that bound them was intense and strong and urgent; Dyfed knew in his heart that it would always be thus, from now until death took them from the earth and back to that realm that was the destiny of all their kind. And even there they would be together. He and Desdemona Caslin had been fated, and once they had found each other, nothing could part them. Save distance, and this damnable journey to London.

  “I won’t be able to stay away long,” he told her. “I’ll go mad without you, Desdemona.”

  He lowered her to the ground once more. The rain poured about them and the wind howled, but they were safe and dry in their invisible shelter. It was oddly sensual, making love in the midst of the wild elements, protected from their force. Darkness enveloped the lovers now, as it had not done before, giving secrecy and making Dyfed bold to linger.

  He would make love to her properly this time and take the time to fully appreciate her love in return. Kian would worry as the hour grew late, and Horas would most likely become frantic, but Dyfed was determined to create memories with Desdemona that he would take with him to London and that she could hold near on her long nocturnal vigils with the creature. Memories that would comfort him through the days and nights and keep
her from despair as she lived beneath Cadmaran’s hand.

  It was much colder now; their shelter couldn’t keep the chill at bay. But despite that, their hands found buttons and hooks and then warm skin lying beneath cloth. They touched and kissed and murmured, and when they came together at last there was none of the desperation that had quickened their first joining. They moved together slowly at first, learning each other’s rhythm, taking as much pleasure from their deliberation as from the union of their bodies. And when the rhythm changed and quickened, words fell from their lips, incoherent to the ear but full of meaning that their hearts understood. Dyfed said her name, as he had done before, and as before, she wept at the sound.

  Chapter Ten

  The rain continued throughout the night and into the morning, giving no sign of stopping. The mood within Castle Tylluan was equal to the weather: dark and somber and uninviting.

  Loris had made certain that her trunks and Dyfed’s, as well as Elen’s bags, were packed in time to be loaded onto the coach. She had overseen the task any number of times for Ffinian and his sons in past years, but she’d never thought the time would come when she’d have to stand and watch her own things being tied atop the vehicle. She wondered, dimly, whether she would arrive in London to find all her carefully folded garments soaked, and realized that she didn’t particularly care.

  Dyfed looked as miserable as Loris felt regarding their trip, which was somewhat troubling. And extremely unusual. Between himself, his father, and his brother, Dyfed had always been the one who had enjoyed the yearly visits to Town. He’d even told Loris on several occasions that he wished he might live in London for a year or two, simply to take pleasure in all that the city had to offer. But as they partook of breakfast in the dining parlor, Loris could see that he was anything but cheerful at the thought of leaving Tylluan.

  He had returned late in the night from his journey to Fynnon Elian, just in time to stop Kian and Horas and the rest of the men from setting out in frantic search of him. Kian had looked somewhere between relief and fury and had railed at Dyfed with such anger that Loris knew he’d been truly afraid for his brother’s life.