Page 8 of Enkindling

Lastly, there was the real question of whether I truly wanted the greater consequences of turning a blind eye to this and carrying on like nothing ever happened. Personal problems and concerns aside, I had to consider the reality that sparked the request. It was far from simple, far from insignificant. Sacrifice was inevitable. It was simply a matter of picking your poison. Could I live with myself if I watched this played out and did nothing? This was a quandary.

I went back to my deer. I at least knew that it required my attention right now, knew what to do about it. But my thoughts were far away from the hunt and food. Whatever I choose, I would have real problems to solve. Nor could I ignore the newest addition to my list of likely risks – Kathy. Now more than ever, I wished I had been allowed to disappear into that crowd. I was no fool; I knew better than to think the most mundane of circumstances were beyond being used as powerful tools. I knew what I was up against. The moment I had met and acknowledged her personally, face to face, I had opened myself up to that real risk. Perhaps nothing would come of it now, or nothing would come of it for a long time. But something would come of it somehow; of that, I was sure.

No matter what, I would have to figure out a way to keep her out of any of this. I would have to preempt the risks I knew would come in the end. Maybe that would mean I must do things I’d rather not. I cast my mind back to the fireplace with displeasure.

Better safe than sorry, like my old man always said.

Chapter 4

Winding and Release

Kathy

I was miserable. Ihatedbeing miserable. Too bad all the hatred in the world was useless to stop it.

Three weeks! Three weeks since Will Carter had randomly waltzed right back into my life, and I had seen neither hide nor hair of him since. At first, I had been anxious beyond measure, not knowing what to make of any of this. Will was back! He was alive and well, and well within reach. He had said I would see him again, and so I waited. From the very beginning, I became ensnared in a cycle of emotions: bubbling amazement, cautious hope, taunting fear. They ebbed and flowed throughout my days with the unyielding constancy of the ocean,and I hardly had any peace.

They gradually gave way to deep disappointment, followed by dogged depression. As it turned out, my waiting was in vain. I kept my eyes open, constantly on the lookout for him around every corner, but with not a whisper of success. Before I knew it, I was changing my schedule around with the aim of giving myself more time before dark, just in case… Just in case what? Damned if I knew. Thank God it was the holidays. Regardless, nothing came of my irrational hope.

Then I was boiling mad. What was wrong with William Carter? What was his problem? Why would he do this to me? Was he so black-hearted? Had he no inkling of the agony he had caused – the agony he wascausing? Who did he think he was, leaving me to wait around for his pleasure like some besotted pet? He hadn’t even told me where he was, how I could reach him if I wanted him. He had taken all the power to himself and left me categorically helpless. I huffed myself to sleep most nights and cried some others. And I despised myself and resented him even more for reducing me to such reactions.

Then I was wracked with worry over him. What if something horrible had happened to him? What if he had a tragic reason for not having seen me yet? What if—? I didn’t know “what if.” All I knew was he couldn’t be dead this time. He better not be. There was only so much a woman could take, andI had long passed the breaking point. Oh God, let me see him soon! I had so many questions! I had so much to say to him.

If you want to see me again, I’ll make it happen… Be seeing you, Kat.Those words still echoed in my head from time to time.

All the same, the last three weeks had been a special kind of torture. All I knew was that I was miserable, that I hated being miserable, that there was nothing I could do to change it and that the one person with the power to change it seemed unconcerned about it.

To make the matters worse, Joseph Williams was still on the prowl. Just two weeks ago, there had been yet another episode on that front. Remembering it still made me mad…

***

I had been in my office at my desk, my door opened wide, so I could take advantage of the bright, breezy day as well as the great view. Will or no Will, I had important work to do,and I couldn’t sink into despair and abandon it all. Especially not after my new appointment. I had always been keen on earning my keep; furthermore, the privilege I had been granted was not lost on me. I would sooner eat all my research notes than disappointProfessor Van Horn.There was also the fact that my pride would never allow me to collapse and fail to fulfill my obligations just because of Will or anyone else.

Buried beneath a mountain of books, I didn’t notice when he appeared at the door. He knocked and cleared his throat loudly. I looked up and was immediately in a worse mood. It did not help that until that moment my books had been doing an admirable job of distracting me from all my non-academic concerns. I let out an exasperated sigh. I didn’t even try to put a smile on my face. Instead, I managed to keep it stoic.

“Mr. Williams,” I said, and then, “Yes, do come in,” as he pantomimed his request for admission.

He sauntered into the office as casually as if he owned it. One could argue he did. He invested a preposterous amount of his already staggering wealth into the university, and the Board of Directors was only too happy to make full use of it. As such, Mr. Williams came and went largely as he pleased, and virtually everyone bent over backwards to get in or keep in his good graces. I was aghast at the absurd reality that so distinguished and sacred a place as the university—ostensibly the beacon of light for future generations and guardian of truth and enquiry—could be so thoroughly steeped in corrupt politicking and serfdom. It was enough to make one gag.

And now the feudal lord has come in person to claim his due, I thought, steeling myself. I rose to meet him. Better to be on my feet, anyway.

Predictably, he took it for politeness. “Thank you,” he beamed at me. “But I was certain you would be happier to see me. I do wish I’d seen that radiant smile of yours. Perhaps it’s because I interrupted your work. My apologies.” As usual, those eyes roamed my body with the eerie light of desire glinting behind them.

I would leave him to his delusions, I decided. The man had altogether too high an opinion of himself. In all honesty, however, it was easy to see why. At nearly sixty years old, Joseph Williams had the bearing and vigor of a much younger man. He was very handsome and carried himself with the imperial grace of a man long accustomed to success and deference. He took very good care of his health. He dressed well and was careful to smell even better, in sharp contrast with many men of his standing. He was a brilliant conversationalist, being very well-read. In conjunction with his money, it was easy to imagine why he would believe he could have his way with women – and he usually did. In fact, I had heard more than a few rumors about his prowess in the bedroom, as if the man needed another feather in his cap.

Unfortunately for him, I was not impressed with Mr. Williams, nor did I want his attentions. I had a policy against men who felt like their money or charm or whatever else entitled them to any and everything that happened to tickle their fancy, and doubly so when that man was married. I wasn’t afraid of him, either. He made me very uncomfortable, to be sure, but far be it from me to cower in the face of a predator. My father would not have it when I was growing up, and Mother always said I was every bit as obstinate as he was.

“How may I help you today, sir?” I asked him cordially.

“Oh, I was just passing by and noticed you were here, so I decided to pop in.” He came closer to me, and I could smell his fine perfume. “Getting on well, I hope? It seems you’re swamped in research. Just got a foot in the door and already hard at work, eh? Youaresomething, indeed.” He gestured to the books scattered across my desk.

“Yes, sir,” I told him. “It’s going on well thus far. There’s a lot to do, so there’s no point in delaying.”

“Well, with a mind like yours, there are sure to be results. And your work ethic puts me at ease,” he added. “It appears I put my money in the right place when I decided to place my bets on you.”

I smiled in spite of myself. So that’s how he thought of me – as an investment?Flow like water, I told myself. It was just banter, after all. “I appreciate the compliment, sir.”

“Ah, there’s that lovely smile at last,” he cooed. “It shouldcome out to play more often. You’re a charming woman, Kathleen.” His eyes bored into mine, and for a second, I thought he was going to reach for me. Instead, he turned his head and gave my office a sweep.

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