Perfect Shadows

chapter 11

I watched for Hal until close to midnight, then made my way to the small study to make a further attempt at my books. I pushed the door open, stopping abruptly at the muffled sobs I heard within, then softly stepped into the room. “Richard? What is wrong?” I asked softly. The sobs cut off and the boy held his breath. He was face down on the high-backed settle near the fire. I crossed the room to lay a hand on his shoulder. It was immediately shaken off, but the lad would not face me. A gasping sob shook the slender frame, and he sat up and glared at me through his tears.

“Will you leave me alone?” he demanded.

“Possibly, when I know what troubles you so,” I replied evenly. Richard looked rebellious for a moment, then his face twisted with his grief, the tears spilling from his swollen eyes, and the words poured from him.

“It is my fault that Eve died,” he started, cutting off my protest with an abrupt wave. “Gwennan was our mother. Lord Morgan ap Owain was my father, and he acknowledged me his bastard. Bran, Gwennan’s man, never made a difference between his treatment of me and his own children, but treated me as his own son. They were proud of my scholarship and it was planned that I should go to University when I was fourteen. In the meantime Lord Morgan arranged for my schooling and later brought me to live in his house. But ap Owain had no other children, and a cousin, Lord David, considered himself the heir, but feared that I would be named instead. That’s legal under Welsh law. He visited Lord Morgan, and they parted with sharp words.

“Then I took the smallpox. My brother and sisters successfully avoided the contagion; indeed, mine was the only case, and none could fathom where I caught it, though I cannot but help to think that David was behind it, somehow. Gwennan came to the manor and nursed me day and night, hanging red cloth at the windows to keep my skin from scarring, and just wearing herself out. I recovered, and she took the disease and died of it.” The voice was distant and bleak.

“Bran lost the will to live and grieved himself to death before the month was out. Then Lord Morgan died as the result of a fall he took hunting, and Lord David took the land, and accused me of contriving the deaths of both my natural and my foster father. We fled that night, and eventually reached Northumberland, where the earl took us in. If it were not for me, they would not have had to leave their home, and Eve would be alive.” He stared down at his hands, wet with his falling tears.

“Or she may have been dead at the hands of her new lord,” I said dryly. “Or they could have watched you hang, and then they could be wallowing in guilt instead of you.” The tear-stained face turned to me in disbelief, and I continued. “They made the choice to flee with you, after all. If-onlys and might-have-beens profit you nothing, Richard. Life is what it is, and we must make the best of it.”

“You can say that? Surviving foully as you do on the stolen blood of others?” His face was a mask of disgust. “What sort of creature are you, that you would choose to continue your life at such cost? How can you bear it?” He drew back sharply at the anger on my face, the snarl on my lips.

“I could show you what I am, Richard, and make you like it, make you crave it above all else, if I so chose. I bid you remember that.” I caught the flinching boy’s wrists in my hands and drew him nearer, his terrified eyes locked on the sharp teeth drawing ever closer until his breath brushed my pale lips. The craving was on me then, I realized. I wanted to make good my threat, to sink my aching teeth into this beautiful boy’s throat, to feel his sweet blood slide down my own, to fill his body with a pleasure he had never known before, one impossible to match in any other way. Swiftly I shoved him away, regaining my will against the desire that had come so close to overwhelming me. “You must not bait me, Richard,” I said wearily. “I vow that you and your family are in no danger from me. However, if you wish, I will try to find you places elsewhere. But for now, go and take your rest.” Richard stood somewhat shakily and made for the door, stopping at the threshold to cast a speculative glance at me as I bent over the ledgers, apparently oblivious.

I watched him go, aware of the sudden desire that had risen in him, warring with a fear that was itself seductive. Perhaps Tom would place the Bowens in his household, though I would be loth to lose them, especially Richard. I needed a secretary, as the meaningless scribbles in the ledgers clearly told me, and when the boy was older he would make an excellent steward. But I needed a man that I could trust, and how could I trust someone whom by my very nature I disgusted? I pushed myself away from the table and left the room. I would walk along the river to clear my head.