He glanced up at her and then away. He stood up and paced away then back again. He sat down and studied her, his expression intense. She wished she could read his thoughts. There was such a tortured look on his face. Did he not want her to leave? The protracted silence made her squirm then run her hands along the cover of the Bible.
He stood and came closer to her, his gaze never leaving her face. “Truly, you believe you’ll be happy at the abbey? You are content to live alone there?”
“I-I …” His intense stare unnerved her so much she seemed to stop breathing. “I believe … I mean, I know not …”
He seemed desperate for her to say something, but she had no idea what.
He took her hand off the Bible and held it gently between both of his. She loved the way his hands felt, sending warmth all through her. “Are you sure this is what you want? If you are unhappy about the prospect of going there, among strangers, you don’t have to go.”
“I’m — I’m not sure how I feel.” She watched his face carefully for any sign that she had said the wrong thing. Could he see how his touch affected her? But his features seemed frozen.
He released her hand and stood up slowly, woodenly. He walked to the window facing the moon and stared out. His broad shoulders slumped, his bad hand tucked against his stomach.
Annabel’s head started to pound along with her heart. She had hurt him, she was sure of it.
“Did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, my lord. Please tell me what to say to make you feel better.” She held her breath to stave off the threatening tears. She couldn’t part with Lord le Wyse knowing he was upset with her. It will be hard to leave him at all.
He turned toward her, throwing his face into shadow as the moonlight streamed over his shoulder, illuminating his hair and creating a sort of silvery halo. He sighed. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and deep and barely above a whisper. “You have done nothing wrong. Go to bed. You have a long day of travel tomorrow.”
Ranulf’s heart pressed against his chest like a boulder that blocked the air in his throat.
Annabel looked troubled. But not because she doesn’t want to leave me. She simply was afraid she had offended him, or thought he had changed his mind about letting her go.
Nay, he was convinced now. She wanted to go. A marriage proposal from him would not tempt her. If he asked her to marry him, she would only hurry away faster.
She doesn’t love me.
The heavy weight in his chest grew more painful. But he wouldn’t lash out at her. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t want to marry him. How could she fall in love with a beastly looking man like him?
He would take his leave of her just as he had planned.
He took a step toward her. “I wish you to have this.” He closed the distance between them and placed his hand on the Bible in her lap.
“Your Bible?” She stared up at him with those luminous blue eyes, which were now swimming with tears, sparkling in the light of the moon. Her lip trembled, and a pain pierced straight through the heaviness in his heart.
He looked away, unable to bear her tears. But how could he bear not to drink in the sight of her while he could? This was the last time he would behold her face or see the light in her eyes.
“You mustn’t give me your Bible, my lord,” she whispered.
“Why ever not? I can get another one. You’ll want it at the abbey.”
“You mustn’t, my lord. You have need of it. I —”
“Nay, I will get another. Besides, there will be no one here who can read it to me.” He heard the note of bitterness in his own voice and clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to ruin their last moments together.
She tried to push the huge tome into his hands, but he refused to take it. “I want you to have it, Annabel.”
Her head remained down so that he couldn’t see her face. Then he noticed her shoulders were shaking, and a sob escaped her.
“What is amiss?” He bent lower, trying to see her face.
She shook her head. “I know not. I’m … I’m confused.” Her sobs mingled with her words, and she sniffed and took deep breaths, as though fighting to gain control.
He wrapped his arm around her trembling shoulders, the bulky book between them. Her soft hair brushed his chin. The painful pressure in his chest eased a little as he bent and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. Soon you will be gone.
“Fly away and be safe.”
She sniffed loudly and straightened, pulling away from him. “Will I never see you again?” Her voice was ragged with tears. “Will you never come to visit me?” Her eyes were red, her lashes dark and wet.
He stifled the moan that rose in his throat and shook his head. “Nay. I would not be allowed, as we are not blood relations.”
“I will miss you, Lord le Wyse.” She sniffed again and started walking away.
“Annabel.”
She turned and looked at him.
He was about to say, If you ever need anything, send for me. But after tomorrow, he didn’t know if he could lend assistance to her or anyone else — ever again.
“I … I want you to be happy.”