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Chapter Eighteen

I n the morning, Sian woke up alone. Though she was not surprised that Christopher had left before dawn, the pain of the loss was crippling, reminding her that she would wake up alone for the rest of her life. Well, she would at least make the most of their last day together.

As soon as she was dressed, she went down to the great hall, where she found the two friends breaking their fasts together. They stood up when they saw her in the doorframe.

“My lady.”

“Good morning,” she murmured, walking toward the table.

“I trust you slept well?”

Sian knew she had gone bright red from the heat blooming through her chest and the spark igniting in Christopher’s blue eye. The tone of Sir Alexander’s voice betrayed the fact that he had guessed the two of them had slept in the same bed. Still, he didn’t sound disapproving.

“Very well, thank you,” she said, sitting on the bench. “Having not eaten last night, I am rather hungry, though.”

“Of course. You will find everything you need here. If you’ll excuse me, I have to—” Instead of finishing the sentence, he gestured toward the door and bowed before leaving her and Christopher alone again.

“He knows we slept in the same bed,” Sian whispered.

Christopher shrugged as he sat next to her, utterly unconcerned. Clearly, he thought his friend could be trusted with the information. “He strongly suspects. But don’t worry, he will never say anything to anyone. Now, what do you want?”

You .

He arched a brow when she bit her bottom lip to prevent the word from bursting out.

“I meant, what food takes your fancy?” The low, sensual purr did nothing to ease the burning between her legs.

Slowly, she released her lip. “Some of the … pie would be nice, thank you.”

They ate in companionable silence, not sure what to say. Then Christopher shuffled closer to her. His eyes had gone dark as thunder. Anger was boiling under the surface, having replaced the earlier desire. A light finger landed on her neck, where she guessed the bruises were still visible.

“I will make Thomas pay for hurting you, never fear.”

She placed her hand over his. “No.”

She didn’t want him to get hurt because she’d been foolish enough to go and confront the man on her own.

Or rather, she feared the consequences of Christopher killing or even hurting Thomas.

She didn’t doubt he would have the better of him, but he was not Lord Ashton anymore.

Who would take the defense of a man who had killed a lord and his own brother?

No. It was better he stayed well clear of Throckmorton Castle.

“He is your brother, father to your nephew, the only family you have. I cannot be responsible for you hurting him.”

She couldn’t bear that burden even if, clearly, the two men would never be friends, for all they were related. Christopher had finally been given the family he’d craved, but, by a cruel twist of fate, it was not one he could ever enjoy. Brother or not, he was just as alone as he’d always been.

“I should get back home,” she said, feeling guilty. Unlike him, she had a loving family who would be frantic if she didn’t come back soon. One thing was for sure, she didn’t relish the prospect of explaining the bruises on her neck to her father and uncle.

Christopher nodded. “Let me escort you.”

They set off when the sun reached its zenith in the pale winter sky.

Angel and Warrior made a striking couple walking side by side.

Air and fire, silver and copper, mist and sunlight, each complemented the other perfectly.

Did she and Christopher look as good together?

No, she was under no illusion. She would never be a match for his magnificence.

In any case, they were not a real couple, would never be.

Her heart stopped because, for the first time since her wedding, she realized that if she had married someone she didn’t love, he could do the same, find himself a wife and a family at last. Could she make him promise never to marry? Of course not.

She clenched her jaw so hard she feared she might crack a tooth.

“Shall I race you?” Christopher asked once they had reached an open field. “Allow you to get your revenge on me for last time?”

Never one to turn down a challenge, Sian found herself shaking her head.

She wanted to make the most of this stolen moment with the man she loved.

All too soon, she would have to go back to her husband and her life away from Christopher.

A walk was already too fast for her liking.

She wished they could crawl back to Sheridan Manor.

Or better still, flee together, far, far away, to a place where no one knew them.

“We are riding the same horses as we were that day, in case you hadn’t noticed, so there is little point in us racing again.

You didn’t win as much as Warrior outran Angel, who is not a strong destrier but a lady’s palfrey.

One was selected for speed and strength, the other for elegance and comfort.

Those are their natures. Some things cannot be changed, as much as we would like to. ”

Christopher nodded. They both knew she was not talking about the horses anymore.

“If you must know, I was amazed you thundered through Sheridan Manor right on my heels. Even Alexander on his stallion would not have been able to keep pace with me. You are an exceptional rider.”

“And if you must know, I appreciated that you didn’t let me win, like too many men would have.”

“I would never do that. Next time, we’ll race on evenly matched horses so we know where we stand.”

Before she could answer, he skewered her with a knowing look.

There would never be a next time, and he knew it.

Once she was back at Clearfield Hall, they would never meet again.

It was for the best, as she could not risk a repeat of the previous night.

She had managed to resist her desire for him this time, but she would not do it a second time.

They carried on in silence and all too soon came in view of Sheridan Manor.

Christopher brought his horse to a halt, forcing her to do the same.

“This is where we part. As much as I would like to, I cannot accompany you back to Sheridan Manor and see your family. They do not know we’ve met, and it’s better that way. I will have to leave you here, in the forest, and let you ride to the gate alone.”

He was right. It would not do for them to be seen together, though she was not worried about Uncle Matthew not wanting him to set foot in his home.

Rescuing Gwenllian and Seren from the river had ensured he would never be refused entry again, but she would hate to see the pity in her mother’s eyes, the compassion in her father’s, the questions in Jane’s.

They all knew, even though the matter had never been discussed openly, that her marriage to Lord Cantle had not changed her feelings toward Christopher.

Sian was wondering what to do when Christopher jumped from the saddle and reached out to her, closing his hands about her waist in a proprietorial manner.

A moment later, she was in his arms, her feet not quite touching the ground.

He was holding her so tight there wasn’t an inch of her body that wasn’t touching his.

It was just like it had been the night before, intimate and wonderful.

“Promise me you’ll never place yourself in danger on my account again,” he said, speaking with his mouth against her temple. “I need to know you’re alive and well even if you cannot be mine.”

“I promise.” The word ended with a sob. This parting was going to kill her. “Don’t let anyone tell you you’re a rogue ever again, do you hear? You’re nothing of the sort.”

“I cannot stop what people say,” he answered, placing her on the ground.

“No. More’s the pity. But you’re a good man.”

“Ah, Little Lamb. You do say the oddest things.” She heard the familiar amusement peeking through the gruffness. “I’m not sure many people would agree with you.”

“People are fools.”

His hold around her tightened. “I wish I could kiss you, but I can’t,” he rasped. “If I kissed you now …”

“Yes. I know.”

If he kissed her now, he would not be able to stop, and neither would she. They would make mad, passionate, soul-destroying love on the forest floor. It would be an utter disaster. Because then she would not resist fleeing as fast as she could with him.

She buried her face against his chest and inhaled his scent one last time. Cardamom . It hit her like a bolt of lightning. The man she loved smelled like cardamom. A sad smile tugged at her lips when she, at last, identified the elusive spice. Too late. Much too late.

“Christopher—”

“Goodbye, Sian.” Her name was little more than a sob. “Forgive me, but I can’t do this.”

He pushed her away almost roughly and vaulted on top of Warrior. Before she could protest or do anything, he was thundering away, leaving her with a hollow shell for a body.

Two days later, Sian and her escort set off for Clearfield Hall under a cloudy sky. Snow was threatening, but she barely felt the cold. It seemed to her she had not been warm since she had watched Christopher gallop away from her.

For once, it was actually a relief to leave her family.

Every waking hour since her return to Sheridan Manor had been spent reassuring them that she was all right and no real harm had been done to her.

Their reactions when they had seen her throat bruised from Lord Ashton’s assault had been as bad as she had feared.

Her father’s hand had gone to his sword as soon as she had walked into the great hall. “Who dared?”

He exchanged a rapid glance with Matthew, who, in turn, stepped forward. “Don’t tell me this is?—”

“No,” she instantly interposed.