The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(68)

Wyneth stiffened a bit. “You mean, outside? With the hunters?”

“Erm, yes.” Aerity didn’t understand her cousin’s reluctance. She’d been around the men many times now. And then she remembered the way Lord Lief had watched Wyneth. “You know what? Never mind.”

Wyneth cleared her throat. “No, it’s not a problem. I’ll go.”

Wyneth began to turn away, but Aerity kept hold of her fingers. “No, Cousin. The details don’t matter. Won’t you talk to me?” She gave a gentle tug until Wyneth faced her and met her eyes, smiling gently. “Tell me what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing at all.” Wyneth squeezed her fingertips. “I’m feeling a bit off, perhaps coming down with something—”

Aerity shook her head. “Stay inside, rest in the warmth.”

“No, the fresh air might be good for me. I will find out what’s happened and return shortly.”

“Wyn, wait.”

Wyneth ignored this. “I’m fine. Go check on the skirt raiser.” She kissed Aerity’s cheek and walked away, unwrapping a shawl from her waist as she went and tossing it around her shoulders.

Aerity watched her cousin until she had gone. A wave of worry batted at her heart—it was unlike her cousin to keep her thoughts so guarded from Aerity. She wished they could talk about all of this, no matter how awkward the circumstances.

Aerity made her way to the infirmary wing where the guards had left the men in separate rooms. She went to Paxton’s doorway. His back was to her, and he seemed to be looking down at his hands. A young, beautiful nurse bustled up beside her with a steaming bucket of water and clean rags.

“I’ll take that,” Aerity told her.

The nurse’s eyes widened, looking from Aerity to Paxton. “But, Princess . . .”

Aerity gripped the edges of the bucket and gave the girl a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, I assure you. If you could tend to the Ascomannian hunter I’d be much obliged.” The girl glanced toward Paxton’s still form again, and nodded, looking somewhat crestfallen.

Aerity waited for the nurse to disappear before entering Paxton’s room, kicking the door shut behind her. She set the bucket on the table. If possible, he was even dirtier than he’d been when she found him that afternoon.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Paxton said morosely without looking at her.

The despondency in his voice filled her with worry.

“We should clean your hands so Mrs. Rathbrook can tend to your injuries better.” She dunked a cloth into the hot water. “Come here, Paxton.”

He stared at a blank point on the wall. “I will wash myself, Princess. You can go.”

Aerity bristled. “Can you not set aside your asinine pride for one moment, Paxton Seabolt? Are you like this with every person? Every woman? Or only me?” Her emotions were rising. She’d tried over and over, driven by the chemistry between them and the few glimpses of warmth he’d shown, like fleeting gifts of golden flecks she couldn’t keep hold of.

Still, he stared at the wall, unmoving, hands clasped tightly.

“Why did you even join this hunt if you hate me so thoroughly?” Aerity snapped, immediately regretting the question.

Without looking her way, Paxton said, “It was never about you, Princess.”

She swallowed hard. She’d known that. Perhaps it was even one of the reasons she felt so drawn to him—he wasn’t after the prize of promised wealth or a royal lass in his bed. Yet she swore there’d been a mutual attraction from the beginning. Had it all been wishful thinking? Girlish imaginings?

“Of course,” Aerity said quietly. Her palms rested on the side of the bucket, her fingers dipping into the water as her heart sank, and she felt as young and foolish as Vixie. “Just . . . wash while the water is hot.”

“I will. You can go.”

Aerity bristled. “I should stay until Mrs. Rathbrook gets here. You look as if you’re about to fall over.” He finally looked at her, with hard eyes that made Aerity feel as if he’d struck her. Indignation burned through her. She was tired of this. “What cause have you to hate me so? It seems the more kindness I show, the more bullheaded you become!” Aerity threw the cloth back into the water with a smack. Paxton’s jaw clenched.

“Why do you care?” he asked.

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself.” Aerity frowned up at him.

“Well, you won’t need to worry about my bullheadedness getting in your way another day, Your darling Highness. The moment my hand is healed, I’m leaving.”

Aerity flinched. “Leaving?”

“Yes.”

Their eyes searched each other, seeking something she couldn’t explain.

“Why?” Aerity whispered.

“For reasons you wouldn’t understand.”

Aerity’s eyes burned. He was right: she didn’t understand this man or his reasons. She believed he was acting out of hurt, but she couldn’t figure out what could possibly have hurt him so deeply, or what it had to do with her.

“I don’t know what’s happened to you, Paxton. I want to help you, but—”

“You wouldn’t want to help me if you knew.”

Aerity stared up at him. Did he have a criminal past? With his sort of temperament, it was a possibility. Even so, he seemed the type to act out of a sense of honor and justice, not petty reasons.