Geovana might not demand her son’s wife be so accomplished—rather than skilled at the dispersal of laundry—but there was simply no understanding the Countess. Especially since it so often seemed that
she
ruled Lendo, rather than Daphne’s father, Pietro, who, taken alone, could be quite a pleasant man. She did love her father.
This morning, he had stopped by her bedroom, concerned by her illness of the night before. And so she had pleaded she was still weak and would remain abed, but did not need the doctor, just a day’s rest.
And she had watched when first Marina, and then Armand, had hurried away from the castle, and upinto the cliffs.
And she had followed.
And now … she hadn’t even gotten to see what they were up to—and someone was coming!
In a panic, Daphne turned to run back down the hill.
Tripping on a rock, she lost a shoe. She tried to come to a quick halt and run back for it, but she froze instead. Armand had come into view, and was looking down at her quizzically.
“Well, hello!” she called cheerfully, her heart thundering.
“Daphne! Are you all right? Is something wrong? You … your father … ?”
“No, no, nothing is wrong!” she said quickly. She waved a hand toward her horse where it lazily ate grass, just twenty feet down the slope. “I …”
Words failed her. She shook her head.
“I had to get away for a bit,” she said simply.
“Does your father know you’re out?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I needed to get away,” she said.
“I’d better get you back,” he told her.
He whistled, and his horse came down the cliff, then followed him to where Daphne stood. Every animal obeyed him, she thought. He never used a whip, or an angry word, and all creatures seemed willing to follow his lead.
“My lady?” he said, offering her a boost up to her saddle.
She thanked him, and thought about his closeness to her as he performed the simple task. And when she was seated, she saw that he looked up at her, and the light in his eyes was so beautiful, so stirring.
“I would do anything, you know,” he said very softly.
“Pardon?”
“I wake early daily, and train at arms. I will gladly go off to the wars, and prove myself. I would do anything to convince your father that I am the right man for you. And yet, I know … I know that I am the falcon master, and you are to wed the man who will be duke.”
She was amazed at the tears that formed in her eyes, the tears she blinked back so quickly. “There’s no way,” she said softly, shaking her head. “There’s no way … the wedding is in two weeks’ time. At
Christmas.
It’s too late.”
“I would die for you,” he said.
She reached down, curling her fingers around his. “And I will live, with this memory always. I will go through the years, knowing I had this moment, that you loved me.”
She pulled her hand back and turned her horse.
Because there was no hope. And if her father knew about Armand’s love …
If Geovana knew …
Then she would fear for his life.
Michelo awoke with a groan. He stared up at the sky, and saw that it was beautiful and blue, dotted with white clouds, and a glorious sun.
But at that moment, the sun only hurt his eyes. He closed them. As he did so, he heard a gasp. He tried to shade his eyes and open them again.
And when he did, he was dazzled.
Her hair, caught in the light, was the color of spun gold. She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. They rivaled the sky, the sea, the heavens.
And within those eyes … care, compassion, concern … tenderness.
“Are you all right?” A gentle hand touched his forehead, something cool. She had ripped her hem to dunk a piece of the fabric from her gown in the stream he could hear bubbling somewhere nearby. Her touch was smooth and soothing, ever so light upon his brow.
“Sir? No, of course, you’re not all right. There’s a gash on your temple, but …” She moved closer. He inhaled her scent. He saw the clean, classic
she
ruled Lendo, rather than Daphne’s father, Pietro, who, taken alone, could be quite a pleasant man. She did love her father.
This morning, he had stopped by her bedroom, concerned by her illness of the night before. And so she had pleaded she was still weak and would remain abed, but did not need the doctor, just a day’s rest.
And she had watched when first Marina, and then Armand, had hurried away from the castle, and upinto the cliffs.
And she had followed.
And now … she hadn’t even gotten to see what they were up to—and someone was coming!
In a panic, Daphne turned to run back down the hill.
Tripping on a rock, she lost a shoe. She tried to come to a quick halt and run back for it, but she froze instead. Armand had come into view, and was looking down at her quizzically.
“Well, hello!” she called cheerfully, her heart thundering.
“Daphne! Are you all right? Is something wrong? You … your father … ?”
“No, no, nothing is wrong!” she said quickly. She waved a hand toward her horse where it lazily ate grass, just twenty feet down the slope. “I …”
Words failed her. She shook her head.
“I had to get away for a bit,” she said simply.
“Does your father know you’re out?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I needed to get away,” she said.
“I’d better get you back,” he told her.
He whistled, and his horse came down the cliff, then followed him to where Daphne stood. Every animal obeyed him, she thought. He never used a whip, or an angry word, and all creatures seemed willing to follow his lead.
“My lady?” he said, offering her a boost up to her saddle.
She thanked him, and thought about his closeness to her as he performed the simple task. And when she was seated, she saw that he looked up at her, and the light in his eyes was so beautiful, so stirring.
“I would do anything, you know,” he said very softly.
“Pardon?”
“I wake early daily, and train at arms. I will gladly go off to the wars, and prove myself. I would do anything to convince your father that I am the right man for you. And yet, I know … I know that I am the falcon master, and you are to wed the man who will be duke.”
She was amazed at the tears that formed in her eyes, the tears she blinked back so quickly. “There’s no way,” she said softly, shaking her head. “There’s no way … the wedding is in two weeks’ time. At
Christmas.
It’s too late.”
“I would die for you,” he said.
She reached down, curling her fingers around his. “And I will live, with this memory always. I will go through the years, knowing I had this moment, that you loved me.”
She pulled her hand back and turned her horse.
Because there was no hope. And if her father knew about Armand’s love …
If Geovana knew …
Then she would fear for his life.
Michelo awoke with a groan. He stared up at the sky, and saw that it was beautiful and blue, dotted with white clouds, and a glorious sun.
But at that moment, the sun only hurt his eyes. He closed them. As he did so, he heard a gasp. He tried to shade his eyes and open them again.
And when he did, he was dazzled.
Her hair, caught in the light, was the color of spun gold. She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. They rivaled the sky, the sea, the heavens.
And within those eyes … care, compassion, concern … tenderness.
“Are you all right?” A gentle hand touched his forehead, something cool. She had ripped her hem to dunk a piece of the fabric from her gown in the stream he could hear bubbling somewhere nearby. Her touch was smooth and soothing, ever so light upon his brow.
“Sir? No, of course, you’re not all right. There’s a gash on your temple, but …” She moved closer. He inhaled her scent. He saw the clean, classic
Similar Books
