Page 190 of The Daughters of Avalon
He lifted the boy’s blanket, tucking him in, and by the firelight she could see the look of compassion on his face. It tugged at the iron laces of her heart, dismantling her shield.
By firelight, his face was swarthy, the gold on his dark hair giving the long ends a burnished shade that complemented the hue of his skin. Long, and disheveled though it might be, his hair was a glorious mane, cast behind his shoulder like a shining velvet cloak. The slant of his brows gave the appearance that he was deep in thought. And his lips, generous and full, were no longer so full of disdain, but half turned with a tender smile.
Sweet fates, he might not have relished the thought of taking charge of Jack, but he’d done so nonetheless, and not for an instant had he taken those duties lightly.
How in the name of the Goddess he had managed to remain so vigilant all day long, and scarcely sleep by night, Seren couldn’t fathom, but the strain was beginning to show. There were bruises forming beneath his eyes.
Unheeded, she allowed her gaze to travel his wide shoulders… long, muscled arms… his thighs as he sat on his haunches… Aye, he was a beautiful specimen of a man… more than she’d realized when she’d first set eyes upon him… more than his brother. This man—well, he was a man, well-built and gentle despite his brawn.
Not for the first time she felt a terrible twinge of regret that she hadn’t met Wilhelm before Rosalynde did, and her envy was her undoing, because if there was one person who should never begrudge her sisters aught, it was Seren.
Throughout her life, she had been overly blessed—or cursed—with more than her share of attention. And yet, not only did she envy Rose, but she also despised the thought of her own betrothal to Giles. Giles wasnotthe man in her dreams.
Giles wasnotthe man she longed to kiss.
And more and more… it seemed to her that Wilhelm shared her inclination—she could spy desire in his eyes… and in his aura—that, too, was beginning to weigh heavily upon her. It was not enough that she must lose one sister to the Great Beyond. Now, must she yearn to betray another and lose Rosalynde as well? It was unthinkable, and yet… and yet… she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Wilhelm.Was it merely because she couldn’t have him? Was she so vain?
But nay, it was not that… during these past weeks Wilhelm had been her rock, her strength. He’d made her feel for the first time in all her life as though she were…normal.
He did not revile her for herwitchery, even if he did not agree with it. He was a man who did not shy away from his duty, nor did he long to be something he was not.
He lifted his gaze, staring into the darkened woods, and in profile his face was achingly beautiful… his nose wide, but suited to his face… his brow imperfect, with that terrible scar, but arched so that his narrowed eyes gave her gooseflesh, despite that it was trained elsewhere.
His jaw, thick and masculine, was shaded by a fortnight’s whiskers, and she wondered what it might feel like to press her lips so gently against the nubs of his beard.
He rose suddenly from his haunches, and Seren closed her eyes. She held her breath as he moved toward her, unable to bear the mortification of being caught spying. But then she sensed him, gazing down at her, his regard as tangible as the soft warm stream of his breath… and her heart thumped mercilessly at the cage of her ribs.
Mother Goddess… something inexplicable stirred inside her… something warm and titillating. It filled her with a longing so deep that it gave her a pang in her womb. The very sense of him made her yearn to lift her nose and follow his distinct male scent… sweat, sunshine… and something else…
Don’t notice I am awake,she thought.Don’t see me.
She longed to whisper words of concealment, but she had a true sense that they would never work against Wilhelm Fitz Richard. She had a strong sense he saw her more clearly than she saw herself.But how could that be?
For a long, long moment Seren held her breath… praying that he would go away… but then she heard his sharp intake of breath, felt a tug on her blanket and opened her eyes to meet his dark, brooding gaze.
Black pupils glinted against the firelight and her lips parted to speak, but her voice faltered. His whisper somehow managed to be silky, yet deep as the night. “Did I wake you?”
Seren shook her head.
He huffed a sigh. “I found no sign of that raven,” he said, lifting a hand to his chin to scruff it with his fingers. “`Tis possible it was there and fled.”
Seren should have felt only relief to know her mother’s birds were not spying on them, but she could scarcely think with Wilhelm hovering so near. “It seems to me they’ve a good sense for peril,” she whispered.
He nodded, as though he understood, and agreed. “How is Jack?” Something about the concern etched upon his face should have triggered a question, but Seren couldn’t remember what that question should be.
“None the wiser, I think. If he puzzled over why you were gone so long, he never said. He ate his supper, then went to bed. He and I tended the spit as you taught us, removing the cony when it was done.”
“Did you eat as well?”
“A little, but we left the majority for you.” She smiled, admiring the hard lines of his jaw… he had a small cleft in his chin, very, very tiny, but there, nonetheless. “A growing man must have his sustenance, after all.”
He chuckled softly. “More’s the pity; I need do no more growing, Lady Seren, but alas, I thank you regardless.”
He made to rise then, and Seren reached out impulsively to stop him. “Wilhelm?” Her hand fell upon his forearm, hardly so noticeable as a butterfly’s touch, yet it held him firm.
“Aye?”
“I… I am sorry.”
