Page 62 of The Robber Knight's Love
Reuben wagered she wouldn't dare approach himfor the next week or so. She had probably only been brave enoughfor this encounter because he was lying in bed with a high fever,unable to move a muscle.
Yes, because of that—and because she lovedher mistress dearly. Perhaps he had been wrong about that maid.Perhaps she wasn't so silly after all. Perhaps he had been wrongabout Ayla, too. He would so dearly love to believe that she wasn'ta heartless shrew. She was so bewitching. A witch.
He closed his eyes. Then, when he heard thedoor swing open, he opened them again and saw Ayla standing in thedoorway. She looked a vision in a long blue dress with goldentrimming that matched her hair and eyes exactly, and that didn'thave mud all over it this time. Her lips parted to smile at him,and he felt pain, real, tangible pain, for the first time in years.Pain in his heart at the glorious sight of her.
What's the good of lyingto yourself any longer, Reuben?he thought.You only need to be good at lying to otherpeople, not yourself. Ayla isn't a shrew; she isn't a witch. She isa lovely girl, and she hasn't put a spell on you or bewitchedyou—unless it be in the way any girl may bewitch a man if his heartis willing to fall to her magic.
Again he felt the pain in his heart, theexquisite pain. Why this girl? Why did it have to be her? Hissavior. His sworn enemy. The one girl he could never have.
But then, you should never say never...
The Sweetness ofWater
Through a crack in the door, Ayla peeked into theroom. Dilli had told her that, finally, Reuben was awake, and so hewas, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. The door squeakedas she pushed it farther open, and his eyes snapped to her.Suddenly, their expression changed dramatically.
“Reuben!” Ayla rushed forward as she saw theflash of pain in his eyes—something which, she realized, she hadnever seen before. “What is it? What is hurting?”
“Nothing,” he said, gruffly. “Don't concernyourself.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” she chided. “I'mresponsible for your welfare. If you are hurting and there'sanything I can do to make it better, you must tell me.”
For a moment he looked up at her with acurious expression on his sweaty face—and then he started laughing.He laughed so hard; she would hardly have thought anyone capable oflaughing this hard in the state he was in at the moment.
“Reuben?” Ayla's brow creased. “Did I saysomething funny?”
“No, I...” The laughter changed into a coughthat wracked Reuben's body under the blankets and furs that wereheaped over him to keep him warm.
When the fit finally subsided, he smiled upat her weakly and murmured: “It's not funny, really, when you thinkabout it. But it sort of seemed humorous for a moment.”
“And are you going to tell me what you aretalking about?”
There was that flash of pain in his eyesagain. He hid it well, but it was there. “Maybe later, LadyAyla.”
She didn't want to let it go, but then he wassick, so now probably wasn't the best moment for an argument.Instead, she said: “You can forget about the 'lady' part. I'm goingto have to nurse you back to health after all, and I'd feel funnyif you called me 'Milady' all the time. The patients at thecloister where I learned never did, either.”
*~*~**~*~*
He almost replied, “Well then, you must callme Reuben, notSirReuben,” when heremembered that she already did. He wasn't a sir here. Damnedruse!
“Err... thank you, Milady.” He made a littlebow of his head. “But I think I owe you the respect of your nobleblood.”
Plus, I'm already toointerested in you. No need to make it worse by becoming morefamiliar.
With effort, he looked around. Still the sameroom, in the same castle. It was undoubtedly morning, with thesunlight streaming in from the east. But which morning?
“How long have I been out? What hashappened?”
“Well, as to your first question—not toolong, considering your condition, thank the Lord. It felt longenough to me, though. You were unconscious the entire night.”
Reuben studied the rings under her eyes. Itlooked like she had been up most of that night. So he hadn't beenwrong. She had been watching over him.
“Would you like something to drink?” sheasked, a tender look in her eyes. “You sweated out gallons lastnight.”
Only when she said it did Reuben realize thathis throat was parched. “Yes please.” He grinned. “Do you havebeer? Or better yet, wine? With a lot of honey please—I like mydrink sweet.”
She scowled at him. “I bet you do. But wateris much healthier.”
His grin didn't waver. “Somehow I knew youwere going to say that.”
