Twice Tempted by a Rogue (Stud Club #2)(87)

She stopped. “Hm. I suppose we’ll need an explanation as to how this girl became such a skilled archer. And why she never killed the wolf on her own before, if so. More brandy?”

“No.”

One last trickle into her own glass emptied the bottle, and she let it roll into the shadows. “At any rate, the girl pulled the wounded champion to the sacred pool, and doused him with cool water until all his wounds were healed. And just as he began to open his eyes, she slipped away to hide, afraid to shame him in his nakedness. The villagers, having found the dead wolf, all came running and rejoicing. ‘All is well,’ they cried. ‘The wolf is vanquished, and the village is saved.’ They cheered and feted the baffled champion, and he bid them farewell. His work there was done. He went on to fight other, even braver battles in defense of other innocents. The girl never saw him again. But she waited there by the pool, quietly hoping he’d one day return, ever faithful to her love.”

Meredith drained her brandy. “She should turn into a rock or a flower or a tree, or something else we can point to now. That’s the way these stories go, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

“Don’t you? I thought I’d made it rather obvious.”

Rhys rubbed his temples. He had a roaring headache from the brandy already, and he was tired of stories and games. “I suppose I’m not as clever as you give me credit for. Stop speaking in riddles, would you?”

“I followed you, Rhys. When I was a girl, I followed you everywhere, whenever I could slip away. And not only to the pool. Whenever you came to the stables, I would hide and watch you. If you took out your horse, I would follow on foot for as long as I could. When I couldn’t keep up, I’d return to the stables and wait until you came home from your ride, just to catch one more glimpse of you as you handed the reins to a groom.” She laughed a little. “God, the hours I spent in that hayloft, peering down. I perpetually had straw caught in my hair.”

“And so …?”

“And so I was there that night. The night of the fire. I was waiting for you to come home. I watched you fight him. You didn’t overturn that lantern, Rhys. I threw it. Threw it at him, but I missed the bastard. He’d thrown down the whip and reached for the hayfork, and—” Her voice broke. “I will never forget the look on that man’s face … It was pure evil. He would have killed you.”

Rhys choked back a wave of bile. “You should have let him.”

“How can you say that?”

“Better me than …” Damn it, he should have died that night. Somehow he knew in his soul he was supposed to have died that night. And because of her, he’d spent fourteen years stumbling through the world half-alive, looking in vain for an entrance to hell. All for nothing. Nothing.

Irrational rage welled within him. He clenched his hand into a fist. “For God’s sake, Meredith. You are a stable master’s daughter. You threw a burning lamp in a horse barn? You should have known better.”

She buried her face in her hands. “I did know, I do know. But I wasn’t even thinking. I just needed to stop him, and it was the closest object to hand.”

“All those horses … Jesus. They died horrible deaths. Did you hear them screaming? Did you?”

“No.” Her voice grew very small.

“Lucky for you. I still hear them.” Even now. Even now, in this dark, dank hell, he could hear those screams echoing through his skull. He put his hands to his ears, but it didn’t help, because the memories resided between them.

“I ran to raise the alarm,” she said. “And then my father forced me to go home.”

“Your father …”

“My father was maimed. I know it. I know it well. I’m the one who has bandaged and bathed and dressed and tended him all the days since. And it may be horrible of me to say, but I would do it again. That man would have killed you. No matter what the consequences, I can’t be sorry for having stopped him.”

He bent his head to his knees, feeling ill.

“Don’t you want to know why?” She put a hand to his shoulder.

He shrugged off her touch. “No. No, I don’t want to hear any more. My head is killing me. Just leave me be.”

He had an awful, sinking suspicion he knew what she would say next. And he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want that precious gift mixed up with all this anger and pain.

“Because I loved you.”

Damn, there it was.

Her voice shook. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember, ever since I was a girl. I loved you all those years you were away. I read every page of every newspaper I could find, scouring the print for word of you. I dreamed of you at night. I went to bed with other men, wishing they were you. And I will likely love you until the day I die, because if I could have stopped loving you, I would have found a way to do so by now.” She inhaled deeply, then released the breath in a rush. “There. I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Meredith waited in the flickering dark, afraid to say more. Afraid to move, or blink, or breathe. There it was, the truth she’d been hiding inside herself for decades now. Hiding so deeply, she’d even been able to deny it to herself. Not any longer. The longer he went without reacting, the more anxious she became. Fear gnawed at her insides, working its way from the pit of her belly all the way to her limbs. Eroding her chin and fingers and knees from the inside, so that they trembled.