Page 98 of The Moorwitch

Hands shaking, I fumble with the truth knot, tugging desperately at the thread.

“Rose,” he says. “I cannae let you slip away from me. Damn me, for it’s foolish and selfish, but I believe I’m falling—”

“Stop talking!” I cry, my voice ragged. My fingers finally work into the tight knot, pulling the threads apart and collapsing the spell.

Conrad blinks once, slowly, then shakes his head a little. The glaze in his eyes fades, and I breathe out in relief.

He looks around, confused. “I ... I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me just now.”

“It’s all right,” I reply shakily. “We should probably go back, don’t you think?”

I nod at the encroaching clouds.

“Aye,” he says, but he still seems slightly baffled.

We pack up our dinner and mount the horses. To avoid Conrad and his dangerous confessions, I ride ahead for once. My thoughts whirl with panic and dread. I relive the past two weeks, turning over every moment Conrad and I spent together, searching for where I went wrong.

I’ve been so careful. I’ve kept my distance, even when it felt like I was locking my heart away. Even when I ached to touch him, I stopped myself, because I would not—will not—let Lachlan use me against him. I will not be his undoing.

Have I failed so miserably?

No matter how fast I ride, I cannot escape his words: “I believe I’m falling ...”

No, no, no.

I won’t let him make that mistake. I am not who he thinks I am, and I should never have agreed to stay at Ravensgate after I learned Lachlan’s true plans. This has to end.

My resolve hardens. I will go to Elfhame tomorrow night, one way or another. I’ll get that damned branch, and I’ll be gone by the next sunrise. Conrad will never see me again, I will go back to my humble classroom where I belong, and I will do my best to forget everything that happened here.

It is the only way I can escape this place with both my magic and my soul intact.

We don’t get far before the clouds break and release their rain. We are still miles from the manor, and it is a long and soggy ride over the moors. The horses plod miserably, and Conrad apologizes repeatedly for getting us caught in the downpour. I only shake my head and clench my hands around the reins, my bedraggled hair swinging in wet ropes.

At last, we reach the stable and Conrad helps me down. I’m so exhausted and drenched I can’t even refuse him; I just slide awkwardly into his arms, and he sets me on the ground, then wraps a horse blanket around me. While I stand in the hay and shiver, he unsaddles Bell and Roman, gives them a thorough currying, and then fills their troughs with sweet oats. I find a barrel and perch on it, watching him work. How at ease he is with the animals; they respond to him with soft, affectionate nudges.

Once the horses have been seen to, we head into the manor. I walk quickly ahead, determined to go straight to my room.

“I am truly sorry,” he says.

“It’s just rain. I’ll dry off.”

“Not about that. Well, notjustthat. Rose.Rose, can we please talk?” He catches my arm and holds me fast. We stand in the narrow kitchen doorway and face one another, his eyes pleading, my heart rioting.

“I’m fine,” I insist.

“No, you’re not. You’re angry, and I am sorry.” Rain drips from the lintel and drums steadily beside us, a curtain of water. There is alantern lit inside, and it strikes one side of his face, while casting the other into shadow. “For what I said out there. It was wrong of me. You owe us nothing. Of course you must go, and I am just a fool for wishing otherwise.”

“You’re not a fool,” I whisper. “But you’re right. I must go.”

I should turn away now. I should put one soggy foot in front of the other and take myself upstairs, putting an end to the whole affair.

But I don’t.

I stay frozen, unable to force my body into motion. My back is against one side of the doorway, his against the other. He lowers his face, trying to get me to meet his eyes.

Finally, swallowing hard, I do.

Looking caught in a dream, he lifts a wet lock of my hair from my forehead. A spark seems to travel from his touch down my spine. The blanket slips off one of my shoulders, leaving my collarbone bare. I could easily pull it up again, but I don’t. I watch his eyes fall to the raindrops glistening on my bare skin. My mind is a hopeless snarl of threads, nothing making sense.