Page 77 of The Duke and the Disciple

Nyssa winked at Aesylt. She held out her hand toward Rahn, who took the hint but ignored it. She waved it again, and he pecked it with a kiss that had her blushing and touching her cheek. “A gentleman, you are. So few of them around. Are yousureyou’re not on the marriage market?”

“He’s sure,” Aesylt groused.

“As for that dance?”

“I...” Rahn tried to catch Aesylt’s eyes, but she’d turned her annoyance on the grove of citrons. “It would be impolite to refuse.”

“Splendid.” Nyssa curtsied and backed away. “We should meet like this every morning, Duke Tindahl. A girl could get used to it.”

Rahn said nothing, and after a beat, she turned and left.

Aesylt followed, but Rahn rushed forward and grabbed her arm. “Squish.”

The look she turned on his hand was scorching. “You could have told me you were coming to the Wintergarden to see her.”

“I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t,” Rahn replied, his words quick and harried like he’d done something wrong. “I came to read. Alone.”

“The book about the fucking sexual lemons? I read it too.” Aesylt snatched her arm away and grabbed the book. “No wonder she thinks you’re ready to ask for her hand.”

Rahn balked in surprise. “You read it? When?”

“When I couldn’t sleep last night.” She readjusted her furs and sniffled from the cold air. “She’s lovely. But if you’re going to court her, then we should stop what we’re doing.”

“Aesylt, that isnot—” Rahn exhaled through his dawning understanding of the situation. “You’re jealous.”

“What?” Aesylt’s face crumpled in annoyance. She reached up to wipe her red nose. “That’s ludicrous. Of what?”

Rahn’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “What’s ludicrous is you thinking I have intentions on courting Nyssa Dereham.”

She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “Yet you haven’t denied it.”

“I should not need to issue a denial when we both know I have no such intentions, toward her or any woman.” The book fell from his hands, and she reached down to grab it at the same time he did, but she was quicker.

“Hm.” She pursed her mouth and turned the book over. “Pick a citron. Or not. I need some air.”

“But you’re already outside!” Rahn was dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to make of her behavior—how to address it or if he even should. It was entirely nonsensical and utterly unlike her.

“Differentair.”

“Do you realize how you’re acting? You are not yourself.”

“Maybe I’m not.” She smiled thinly, still glaring at the tome in her hands. “But I’d really like to be anywhere but here right now. Enjoy your book, and...” She waved her hand around.

Aesylt handed the book back without looking at him. Incredulous, he watched her march across the fallen cherry blossoms until she disappeared into the distance.

Oh what a foolshe’d been! An absolute and complete fool. She knew it through every painful, pulsing second of the encounter, and worse, so did Rahn and Nyssa. She had no idea how she was going to face them at morning meal and decided it was probably best she not go at all.

What the bloody devil is wrong with me? she thought as she climbed the stairs of the tower in shame. She’d never been one to leave things unsaid, and not making time to speak with Nyssa, to understand the abrupt shift in who had once been a treasured friend, was a personal failing. Letting her get under her skin, when that had been her obvious intent, was another.

With luck, Rahn would go straight to the keep, and she’d have an hour or two of quiet admonishment. She couldn’t even muster an apology when he’d rightfully called her on her conduct, because she was too far mired in her own irrational feelings to do anything but sulk.

She climbed higher, already winded. Of course Rahn wasn’t trying tocourtNyssa. Nyssa had fixed her gaze on the scholar from the moment she’d met him, and she had probably followed him, hoping to catch him alone. Goading Aesylt had just been a delightful bonus.

Sighing, she stopped to gather her breath. Jealous. Yes, she was jealous, and she detested herself for it. There was no damn reason to be. He was not her beau, nor even her lover, but her partner—a pointshehad hammered home in defense of them working together. Every bit of intimacy between them was for one reason and one reason alone. He’d made it excruciatingly clear he’d never see her as anything but his favorite disciple, no matter how ardently he’d worked her last night. No matter how dark and heavy his gaze had been as he’d watched her ride his hand like he’d not seen anything like it.

Maybe she should feel ashamed for that too, but she didn’t.

Aesylt sighed again and finished the last leg of the climb. She owed him an apology. More so, she needed to pull herself together and remember why they were doing what they were doing—and disabuse herself of any other illusion.

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