Everlasting

  But Alrik just laughs, erasing the notion with an impatient wave of his hand. “Kil his firstborn son? Never! My father wil adapt. And when he meets you, gets to know you as wel as I do, wel , he won’t be able to resist loving you too—you’l see!”

  But even though I’d love to believe that, I can’t. I’m less idealistic than Alrik. Having made do with far less fortune and privilege, I’ve experienced firsthand some of the more searing disappointments life brings.

  But before we can discuss any further there’s a shuffle of footsteps, the unmistakable sound of boots trudging along the long dirt path that runs between the stal s. Stopping just outside of ours, it’s soon fol owed by a swift knock on the door and a deep male voice that cal s, “Alrik? You in there?”

  “I am,” he says, lips stil kissing me, covering every square inch of my face, before exploring the deep square neckline of my dress.

  “And you may come in. Though I warn you, I am not alone, I am enjoying some time with my bride.”

  I start to pul away, feeling embarrassed by this public display and longing for the shadowed corner again. But Alrik won’t have it, and he pul s me back to him. Crooking his arm tightly around my waist as Heath comes into the room, bows deeply, and barely taking a moment to venture a glance at us, says, “M’lord and Esme.” His back straightening again only to reveal a look of pure horror that plays across his face. “Oh, Adelina, forgive me. I misspoke. I assumed…” His face heating to a thousand degrees, al owing the words to trail off from there. Having nowhere to go with that, no elegant way to take the words back.

  Even worse is the fact that Heath has only very recently asked for my hand—something known only to Heath, my parents (who scolded me to an unbelievable degree for denying him), and I. Luckily, Alrik hasn’t a clue. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t be welcoming his oldest and dearest childhood friend, his father’s most favored knight, in the way he is now.

  My eyes graze over Heath, taking in his coarse, golden-brown hair, his startling blue-green gaze, his lean, muscled form—feeling terribly guilty at his finding us like this, knowing my life would be so much simpler if I could just force myself to return his affections. But that’s like saying if it weren’t for the existence of the sun you’d be satisfied with an onslaught of rain everyday.

  The heart knows no logic, and rarely corresponds with the brain.

  When Alrik is present, everyone dims.

  And as handsome and kind and wel intentioned as Heath is, he becomes nearly invisible when he’s next to Alrik. It may sound cruel on the surface, but it’s the stone cold truth.

  “Nonsense, my friend!” Alrik cries, not at al bothered by Heath’s glaring faux pas. “Come join us! I sent for you for a reason, I wanted you to be the first to hear our happy news—Adelina and I are to be married!”

  “Sir.” He bows, mostly out of respect, but partly to hide an expression that is clearly conflicted. And by the time he straightens again, he’s back in control, though he stil makes an effort to avoid looking at me.

  “I trust you wil keep this under wraps until it is time to reveal?”

  “And when wil that be, sir?”

  “Tomorrow we wil marry. And the day after that, I wil share my joy with the kingdom. But for now, I must go. I have some last-minute details to attend to. So, may I trust you to escort Adelina, my future bride, safely home?”

  “Of course, m’lord.” He bows once more. But this time, when I remove myself from Alrik’s kiss, I catch Heath peering at me in a way I can’t read.

  His face bearing a look I continue to ponder long after he’s exchanged it for another, more mal eable one.

  A look I continue to guess at as we make our way out of the stables and into what’s left of the daylight.

  A look that while I stil can’t define, manages to linger—the sheer insistence of it leaving me profoundly uneasy.

  fourteen

  We ride in silence. Or rather I ride, Heath walks alongside me with the reins held loosely in hand, the two of us lost in our own mental landscapes. And though he’s had plenty of opportunity to address me, it’s not until we’ve nearly arrived when he chooses to speak.

  “Do you love him?” he asks, the words simple, direct, as though we’d been engaged in the sort of conversation that natural y brought us to this point. And though he strives to mask the pain behind the statement, he fails miserably. I can feel his despair from up here.

  I press my lips together and look away, wishing I could refuse to answer. Most females would. Claiming great offense to have their heart questioned, their privacy trespassed upon, that it could hardly be considered his business, and so on.

  But I’m not like most females. I detest that sort of falsity, that sort of game.

  Besides, Heath is kind and decent. I owe him something better, an honest answer at the very least. No matter how much it hurts.

  After al , we’ve shared a kiss.

  Or rather, several kisses—a series of kisses, if you wil .

  Kisses that, from what I can tel , came to mean much more to him than to me.

  I was merely experimenting. Trying to see if my head could influence my heart. Wanting to see if al kisses were like Alrik’s. His being the first left me with none other to judge by. And though it was nice kissing Heath, while it left me feeling soft, and calm, and serene—

  like floating on a luxurious raft in a beautiful, tranquil blue sea—it stil couldn’t compete with Alrik’s rush of warmth. His swarm of tingle and heat.

  Though unfortunately, it wasn’t until my experiment failed that I realized Heath’s intentions were entirely different. He wasn’t testing the waters. He was expressing his interest in me.

  And though my life would surely be easier if I could return his affections, I just can’t, and it would be cruel to pretend otherwise.

  I take a deep breath. Al ow him to lift me out of the saddle and onto the ground, where he places me gently before him. His face mere inches from mine, hands stil grasping either side of my waist, the feel of them resulting in the usual stream of calm, cool energy I’ve come to associate with him.

  “Yes,” I say, trying to soften the word, but no matter how it’s spoken, I imagine it feels like a dagger to him. “Yes, I do love him.” I sigh, feeling the need to further explain when I add, “I can’t help it. It’s just … unexplainable. It’s just one of those things.”

  “You don’t have to say any more. Real y. You owe me no explanation.” His eyes bore into mine, his gaze betraying his words. He’s desperate to understand, desperate to make sense of it, desperate to know why I chose Alrik over him.

  I try to smile, but only make it halfway. My voice sounding thin, unstable, when I say, “Oh, I’m not so sure about that. It feels like I do owe you an explanation, or … something.”

  His hands grow warmer, his gaze deepens, and before it can go any further, he moves away, the move so abrupt it’s a moment before I adjust.

  “Adelina,” he says, voice low and sweet, loaded with a reverence he’s reserved just for me. “You are aware of my feelings for you, so I won’t bore you there. But please, al ow me to speak as your friend when I say I have great cause to worry about your and Alrik’s plan.”

  Not my plan, Alrik’s plan. I real y had no part in it. Stil , it’s not like I denied him. It’s not like I said no. Then again, I don’t remember saying yes either. I’d barely gotten a chance to ask a few questions before Heath barged in and put an end to our discussion. Though I choose not to share that with him.

  “For one thing, the most obvious thing, the king wil be furious. Alrik’s match to Esme was planned long ago. No one’s ever fooled themselves into thinking it was a matter of the heart—except maybe Esme…” He muses, getting back to the point when he adds, “But there is much to consider, much money at stake. As it happens, Alrik’s family desperately needs Esme’s money if they are to continue their rule. And, as if that wasn’t enough, wel , then there is Esme and her family to consider. They wil gl
adly hand over a very large dowry if it means their daughter may someday wear the crown. And though I don’t claim to be wel versed in Esme herself, having only met her a handful of times, I do think it’s safe to assume that she’l be quite furious when she discovers what you two have done. And I’ve a feeling her anger could prove to be even more frightening than the king’s. There’s something about that girl—something untamed, something that knows no limits, no boundaries of any kind.” He shakes his head, hands fumbling by his sides. “And then, of course there is Rhys, who, wel , I’m sure he wil be the only one, other than you and Alrik that is, who wil be overjoyed by the news—a thought which is frightening in its own way, is it not?” His voice lifts in question, though his face remains the same, solid, fixed, with no hint of amusement.

  “While it may free him to pursue Esme, his doing so wil only anger her sister. As I’m sure you know, Fiona has been interested in Rhys for some time now.”

  I blink at Heath, struggling to take it al in. Even though I was wel aware of the triangle of jealousies and attractions I’m immersed in, it’s stil quite startling to have it so plainly laid out.

  “What a tangle love is,” I whisper, almost as though speaking to myself. Then meeting Heath’s gaze, I ask, “So what do you propose I do then? How would you suggest I choose?”

  “I would suggest you choose me.” He sighs, the sound as bereft as the look in his eyes. “I wil know going in that you wil never love me like you do Alrik, and I wil accept that. I wil also do al that I can to make you happy. I promise you, Adelina, I wil dedicate my entire life to seeing that you are wel cared for, content.”

  “Heath…” I shake my head, wishing he hadn’t just said that.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t at least express my concerns and try to offer you a way out of what I fear wil only end in trouble, if not heartbreak, for nearly al involved.”

  I nod, his words lingering, swirling with the current in my head, and the worst part is, there’s not a single thing to refute. His worries mimic my own.

  Stil , I look at him and say, “And now that you’ve expressed your concerns—what now?”

  “Now, I bid you good-bye and wish you much happiness.” He bows low before me.

  And before he can rise, I leave him. Pressing my lips briefly to the crown of his head, pushing against the coarse golden-brown strands, before making my way toward my door. Musing to myself that no matter what happens, come tomorrow, I wil never look at my house, my life, or Heath, in the same way again. I wil be changed in a most profound way.

  Aware of the weight of Heath’s gaze stil hovering, his cool, calm energy streaming, lingering, as I make my way over the stoop and inside the house.

  fifteen

  It’s a pebble at my window that wakes me. One sharp tap, fol owed by another, and then another, until I’m ful y roused from my sleep.

  I reach for my dressing gown and pul it tightly around me, stealing a moment to brush a quick hand over my hair, before I move forward, eager to see who is there.

  Expecting just about anyone, except the one whom I find.

  “Rhys?” I squint, taking in his deep blue eyes and golden-blond hair. “What is it?” My heart beats in triple time as a swarm of possibilities overcome me—each one worse than the one that came before. Alrik’s had an accident—Alrik’s taken ill—Alrik’s changed his mind about me … until I final y gather my wits enough to ask, “Is it Alrik? Is he al right?”

  Rhys laughs, laughs in a way that lights up his face—laughs in a way that makes him irresistible to females of al ages, al stations—

  everyone from matrons, to princesses, to the lowliest chambermaids—everyone except me, that is.

  “Trust me, your precious Alrik is fine. Just fine. Like a bitch in heat he can’t wait to see you, which is why he sent me to fetch you and bring you to him.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I say, the words coming before I’ve had a chance to properly vet them, but once spoken, I find I don’t regret them.

  “Alrik would never send you—or at least not to fetch me. He’s wel aware of your cruelty, Rhys. The demeaning way in which you enjoy treating me.”

  Rhys smiles, runs a hand through his glossy golden waves, blue eyes sparkling in the dark as he says, “I wil neither deny, nor apologize for that. In fact, I ful y admit to believing that my brother is an idiot for choosing you when he could have the lovely, bewitching Esme instead. But then, as it turns out, my brother’s idiocy is now working in my favor. Because of his bizarre attraction to you, Esme, my beautiful flame-haired goddess, is free for me to pursue. And so, it seems, under the circumstances, my brother and I have cal ed for a truce. And as he busies himself with his duties, he has sent me for you. So come now, your marriage awaits. Don’t make me wake your whole house.”

  “Now?” I blink into the darkness, sure he misspoke.

  “Yes, now. It’s al very cloak and dagger—top-secret business. So come, grab what you need, get yourself dressed, and come around back to where my horse waits.”

  But despite his instructions, I remain rooted in place, refusing to budge from the window, knowing better than to take Rhys at his highly unreliable word. Sure that if Alrik were to send anyone for me, it would be Heath, not Rhys, the brother he doesn’t trust, the brother he detests.

  Rhys sighs. Sighs and shakes his head. Reaching into the pocket of his overcoat when he says, “Fine. Here. Read it and weep. But whatever you do, make it fast. I’d like to get back to my own bed at some point. I’ve a plump little dairymaid warming my sheets at this very moment.”

  Suppressing an irresistible urge to rol my eyes, I pretend to ignore that last part and watch as he deftly climbs the trel is just outside my window, body moving swiftly, catlike, thrusting the folded paper into my hand as he perches himself on the ledge.

  I step away, pul my gown tighter around me, then push my long golden hair over my shoulder so it hangs down before me. Trying to deflect the way his eyes hungrily roam me, pausing everywhere they shouldn’t and not being gentlemanly enough to make any attempt to hide it.

  Recognizing the red wax seal Alrik always uses to mark his correspondence on his numerous letters to me, I unfold it quickly, smooth out the creases, and read:

  My dearest Adelina:

  If you are reading this now, it’s because you refused to take Rhys at his word.

  Good for you!

  Once again, you’ve done me proud. Though, just this once, I ask that you trust him. It seems my brother and I have final y forged some common ground and now find ourselves working together—working for our own greater good, so to speak. So it is with an easy heart and a clear conscience that I beseech you to go with him.

  Unable to locate Heath, I found myself in need of an al y and turned to Rhys, correctly assuming he’d be delighted by the news of our secretly marrying, or, as he’s more prone to put it: “Alrik’s ridiculously romantic, foolhardy blunder.” But laugh as he may, I’m afraid the joke is on him, for he wil never experience the kind of love you and I have found in each other.

  Stil , despite his making fun, he is sharp enough to understand that my marrying you frees him to pursue Esme and ultimately to pursue the crown, and probably the position as “Father’s favorite son and heir” that I once occupied as wel . But none of that matters in light of what I now stand to gain—the ability to fulfil my long-held dream of a life lived with you.

  So now, I await you, my darling—my bride—my wife!

  Please hurry to me!

  Yours always and forever—

  Alrik

  “So, what do you think? Does it pass the test?” Rhys lounges on the ledge, one leg dangling into my room, the other bent, propped on the shelf, serving as a rest for his hands.

  I glance between the note and him, having to admit that it was certainly written by Alrik’s hand, and clearly not under duress, so I take a deep breath and nod my consent.

  “Good,??
? Rhys snaps, reaching toward me and snatching it back. Shoving it deep into his pocket without first taking the time to properly fold it, he looks at me, tel s me to hurry, then hurtles right out my window, right out of sight.

  sixteen

  “Climb on up.”

  I look at him. Frowning as I say, “Up there? With you?”

  “Unless you prefer to walk.” His shoulders rise and fal as though he’s prepared to let me do just that.

  “Why don’t you walk and I’l ride?” I place my hands on my hips, vowing to tel Alrik about this later.

  “Nope, not a chance.” He shakes his head. “For one thing it’s dark out. For another it’s cold. And, for another…” He prolongs the pause, making me wait for it, as though I actual y care. “I’m not al that big on acting nobly or gentlemanly. Especial y when I don’t expect to get anything out of it. Though, if I were to get something out of it, then I may reconsider.”

  I gaze up into those glinting blue eyes, the haughty arc of his golden-blond brow, the flash of white teeth in the blackened night sky. A sight that leaves most girls feeling faint, weak in the knees, ready to succumb to his every whim and need—but for me, it just makes my stomach turn, makes me feel as though I might heave.

  “Is this how you flirt with Esme?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t engage him, but it’s not like that stops me. “If so, I can’t imagine why she’d reject you in favor of your brother. Tel me, Rhys, has she seen this oh-so-charming side of you?”

  I wait for his reply, expecting him to get mad, to say something cruel about my looks, my family’s low status and lack of finances, but instead he just laughs, his smile growing wider when he says, “Nah, with Esme, it’s al pomp and show, and nothing but the deepest courtesy and respect. You have to know how to play a girl like her. She’s greedy, superficial, and vain. The only thing she sees in my brother is what’s soon to be mine—the power of his position, and, more importantly, the crown. We’re a lot alike, Esme and I. We were made for each other. We belong together. She and I are twin souls, and someday she’l realize it too.”