So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)

“That’s a sad story,” Rupert murmured.

Brigitta nodded. “Sister Marian had never told anyone at the convent her secret, because she’d wanted to escape the painful memory and make a new life for herself, but I messed it up for her. That’s when I realized that people don’t always keep secrets because they’re being dishonest or deceitful. Sometimes we push memories into a dark hole because they’re too painful to live with day after day. Sometimes we have to keep secrets just to survive.”

A chill ran down Rupert’s back. Had she been seeing his secrets?

Brigitta sighed. “After that, I had my own secret. I didn’t tell anyone I could see their hidden memories. After all, it doesn’t help anyone. It only makes them uncomfortable. If people are desperate enough to keep a secret, then they don’t want it to be exposed.”

He gripped the railing hard. “So every time we touched, you saw something?”

She nodded. “But I would never tell any—”

“What did you see?”

She winced. “An ambush. A battle. A dark basement. The crypt where your mother is interred. A—”

“Enough.” He stepped back. She knew way too much.

“I could feel your emotions, too.” She turned toward him with tears in her eyes. “So much grief and despair. My heart ached—”

“Enough!” He retreated another step, his hands clenched into fists. “I’m not that child anymore.”

“I think you are.”

“No!” He gritted his teeth. “You should go now.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I shouldn’t have told you. I’m sorry.” She wandered toward the stairs.

When she glanced back, a tear was rolling down her check, and he felt like a complete ass.

“Your secrets are safe with me,” she whispered, then hurried down the stairs.

Crap! He wanted to pummel something. He wanted to beat something till his knuckles were bloody and raw. She knew too much. And if they kept touching each other, she would know even more. Dammit. No matter how much he longed for her, he couldn’t touch her again.





Chapter Fifteen

He was avoiding her.

Brigitta paced about the cabin. She should have known this would happen. After she’d blurted out Sister Marian’s secret, the nun had been careful to avoid her.

Why had she thought Rupert would be different? Even though he was attracted to her, that didn’t mean he wanted to share his secrets. She’d learned from her visions that he’d spent years of his life hiding in dark places, afraid of being captured. He’d been forced to keep his identity secret in order to survive. So it only made sense that he wouldn’t want her to discover who he really was.

Unfortunately, her curiosity refused to quit. She was even more compelled to figure him out. Who was this sorcerer who monopolized her thoughts and made her heart squeeze with longing? How could she gain his trust? How could she convince him that his secrets were safe with her?

A whole day had passed, and she’d seen him only once. After the midday meal, she and Sister Fallyn had ventured out on deck for some fresh air. While the nun had chatted with Stefan, Brigitta had approached the crow’s nest where Rupert was standing.

“Good afternoon,” she’d said softly, knowing he would be able to hear her if he wanted to.

No reply.

“I could meet you tonight under the stars,” she’d suggested. Silence had stretched out while she’d grown increasingly tense.

His whisper had finally filtered down. “Not tonight.” Then he’d grabbed a rope and swung through the air to the next mast, where he’d dropped a few feet to land neatly on a yardarm. After grasping another rope, he’d swooped down toward the bow of the ship, disappearing from her view.

Normally, such athletic feats would have made her breathless, but she’d been too mortified to appreciate it.

He was avoiding her. She should have known not to tell him the truth.

But she’d wanted to be close to him. She’d wanted to forge a bond with him where they could share their secrets, thoughts, and burdens. She’d wanted to be special to him.

It hurt. Blast him. His rejection hurt. And that could only mean she truly cared for him.

She’d fallen for him.

Now she was back in their cabin, pacing about. How on Aerthlan had she fallen for a man when she didn’t even know who he was?

But she knew his heart. She knew he was good and honorable, responsible and clever, strong and handsome. She knew his pain and heartache. His grief and fear. She’d felt his desire for her. His yearning.

Hadn’t she? Good goddesses, had she just imagined his desire out of wishful thinking?

“Will ye sit down for a minute?” Sister Fallyn fussed. “Ye’re going to wear holes into yer slippers.”

With a groan, Brigitta collapsed in a chair. “Aye. We could be stuck on that island for years, so I may never have another pair of slippers.”

Sister Fallyn scoffed. “Why are ye being so negative? ’Tis not like you.”

Brigitta shrugged. How could she gain his trust if he refused to see her?

“Stefan has told me all about the island,” Sister Fallyn continued. “They’re growing oats and barley. And raising sheep. They even have a few milk cows. And he said we could use his cottage. I think it will be quite lovely.”

Brigitta nodded.

“And Stefan said they’ll come to visit every month or so and bring us whatever we need. So if ye need new slippers, ye’ll only have to ask.”

Brigitta sighed. “Ye don’t think it’s cowardly of me to hide?”

Sister Fallyn scoffed. “Would ye rather have yer brother condemning you to a life of abuse?”

A knock sounded on the door.

“That must be our dinner.” Sister Fallyn stood. “Come in!”

Jeffrey opened the door to reveal Stefan holding an enormous tray of food.

“May I join you?” Stefan walked in to deposit the tray on the table. Jeffrey put a jug of wine on the sideboard then scampered away.

Sister Fallyn blushed. “I suppose it would be all right.” She busied herself unloading the tray.

“Thank you.” Stefan slanted a tender look toward the nun that she didn’t see, but Brigitta did.

And her heart hurt even more. “I’m not very hungry. I think I’ll lie down in the cabin next door.”

Sister Fallyn gave her a worried look. “Are ye ill?”

“I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep very much last night.” That much was true. Brigitta had hardly slept a wink, for she’d kept replaying her confession to Rupert in her mind and remembering the horrified look on his face.

She blinked her eyes to keep tears from gathering. “Good night.” She hurried from the room and dashed into the smaller cabin next door.

The sun was setting outside, so only a little light filtered through the small window. And the lantern had long since run out of oil. She lay on the bed, watching the encroaching shadows until she finally fell asleep.

Sometime later, a knock on her door awakened her. Was it Rupert? She jumped out of bed and fumbled toward the door in the dark. “Yes?”