dragon archives 02 - pursued by a dragon
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“I look forward to the challenge,” she said, glancing up as Margaret entered the room.
“Dear Cathryn, how are you feeling this morning?” she asked, taking a seat beside her. Cathryn nodded, replying that she felt much better, as Favian pushed himself from the table and stood up.
“Ladies,” he said, giving a shallow bow before exiting the room.
A few hours had passed by the time Cathryn was ready to take her leave of Drake Manor. She clasped Margaret’s hands as she stood outside the door.
“Thank you for everything,” she said with a smile. “I have enjoyed my stay very much. I can only apologize for causing so much fuss.”
“Nonsense,” replied Margaret, “there is nothing to apologize for. Your company has been very welcome, and I hope you will soon return for a longer stay.”
“I would like that,” Cathryn said She glanced at Owain, who was watching her with an indulgent smile. “Master Drake, thank you for your kind hospitality.”
“You have brought excitement to our dull existence,” he said with a grin as Margaret tutted and smacked his hand lightly. Placing his hands on Cathryn’s shoulders he pulled her against his chest. She stood tense for a moment, and then relaxed into his fatherly embrace, smiling at him when he pulled away.
“We all look forward to your imminent return, Cathryn.” His gaze met Favian’s for a moment. “As Margaret has already said, your next stay must be longer.”
Cathryn nodded. “Thank you,” she said.
She turned to the carriage and stepped into its confines, Favian close on her heels. He pulled the door closed behind him and leaned back in the seat, adjusting himself as the carriage lurched into movement.
“So where do we begin?” he said.
“With your two thousand Lincolns,” she replied. She smiled sweetly as she started plying him with questions about his flock. On what kind of land did the sheep graze? When were the sheep sheared? How consistent was the color of the flock?
“I will need to see a sample of the wool before I can make you an offer,” she finally said.
“Of course,” he replied, “I will call on you with samples in the coming days.”
“I will be heading out on the road soon,” she reminded him.
“I hadn’t forgotten,” he said. He leaned back in the seat and regarded her for a moment. “You clearly are very knowledgeable about wool production, and the worth of fleeces.”
“Of course. I grew up in the business. From the time I was a child, I have been taught everything I needed to know.”
“Everything you need to know about being a wool merchant, perhaps,” he said.
“What do you mean?” she asked. He leaned forward in his seat, bringing his face closer to hers.
“Cathryn, you have been schooled so well with regard to the business, that it did not even occur to you to question whether you should be married to further your father’s business prospects.”
“Marriages based on business alliances are made every day,” she protested.
“Yes, but Cathryn, you accepted your fate with complete equanimity, without any consideration for your own personal happiness. You are not a princess, involved in high-stakes politics, or the daughter of the titled gentry, seeking to expand their influence. The advantages gained by your marriage to Beaumont can be obtained through other means, without you sacrificing your happiness.” Cathryn glared at him as he spoke.
“I thought we had agreed to a truce.”
“The truce ended when we left Drake Manor,” he said, “and now I will have my say.” Reaching over, he took her hands within his own, holding them tight when she would have pulled away. He stared down at them for a moment before lifting his gaze to hers. “From the moment I first met you, that day in the rain, I knew that you were the one my heart had been searching for. It was not that you are a beautiful woman — I have met many beauties and yet never felt this way. And it was not because you fell into my arms, as much as I enjoyed that. Rather, it was a rightness that settled into my bones.” Cathryn drew in a breath, feeling her heart quicken at his words. “But when I realized that you were not only betrothed, but to a man such as Geoffrey Beaumont, I thought I must be mistaken. I tried to put you from my mind, but the memory of you would not give me peace. And so I watched you, those first few days.” He smiled in amusement when her eyebrows flew up in surprise. “And in observing,” he continued, “I quickly came to the conclusion that your attachment to Beaumont was not one of affection. And I was sure that as much as you were in my mind, I was in yours. You insist you feel nothing for me, but your denials are futile — we both know them to be falsehoods. We are meant to be together, Cathryn. Allow yourself to admit the truth. Put aside this betrothal and marry me instead.”
Cathryn pulled in a sharp breath, and Favian tightened his grip around her hands. “Don’t say anything now. Just give me your word that you will consider it.”
“But we have a contract,” she whispered.
“Contracts can always be undone,” he said. “I will make full reparation to your father and to Beaumont for any financial burden this may impose on them personally or on their respective businesses.”
“But —” she started, but he placed his fingers over her mouth.
“Shhh,” he said, “say nothing more now. Just give me your word you will think on what I have said.”
Her eyes were wide as she stared at him before finally nodding in response.
“I love you,” he said, lowering his hand from her mouth. Pulling her hand to his lips, he gently kissed her fingers before letting go. He leaned back in his seat as Cathryn looked down at her hands, uncomfortable. She cursed herself for being lulled into complacency in his company, even as she recognized the truth of what he was saying. She could no longer deny what she felt for him, and yet … was it enough? She glanced up to see him watching her intently, and she looked away once more, drawing the curtain from the window and staring, unseeing, at the countryside rushing by. She could feel the weight of his stare, and twitched nervously. Eventually it became too much to bear, and she turned back to look at him with a furious glare.
“It was very ungentlemanly of you to make your declarations while I was trapped in a carriage,” she said angrily. Favian laughed.
“As I have told you before, my love, I am no gentleman.”
“Then what are you?” she demanded. “A rogue? A cad? A thief?”
“I am many things,” he said, “but none of those are important. All that matters is that I love you, and you love me.”
“Urgh,” she said, “you are incorrigible!”
“Take heart, my love,” he said, “we are almost in town. You will be rid of me soon enough.”
“Thank goodness for small mercies.”
“Don’t get too grateful,” he said with a laugh, “you will be seeing plenty of me in the coming days. Don’t forget that you promised to give thought to my proposal, and,” he said, leaning forward and dropping his voice, “I will not accept ‘no’ as an answer.” She shivered as she looked away.
“Incorrigible,” she muttered.
Chapter 19
“How was your visit?” Father asked later that evening.
“It was most interesting.”
“Interesting? How so?”
Cathryn watched her bangle gleam in the candlelight as she twisted it around her wrist. She looked up to meet her father’s curious gaze. “Margaret has a lovely garden, and is very knowledgeable about herb lore.”
“Oh. Well, yes, I suppose that could be interesting. And did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes. Margaret Drake is a lovely woman, and I enjoyed extending our acquaintance.”
“And Master Drake? What kind of man is he?”
Which one? Cathryn thought sardonically. “Master Drake seems to be a good man. And he owns two thousand Lincolns.”
“Ah! You contracted to buy the fleeces, I’m sure.” Cathryn met her father’s amused gaze with a smile of her own
.
“Of course.” She pushed herself up from her seat. “Now if you will excuse me, I think I will retire early.”
Once in her chambers, Cathryn sank down onto her bed. Favian’s proposal had been lingering at the edge of her thoughts, and in the solitude of her room it came rushing to the fore. She could no longer ignore his feelings for her, nor her own for him. She knew what her heart was saying. The only question, really, was whether she could trust her heart. Could she be sure that it was not leading her down a fickle path that would lead to misery and torment? Cathryn rose at the sound of the door opening, and watched as Hannah entered the room.
“How was your visit?” Hannah asked, picking up a brush and pointing at the stool. Cathryn sat down.
“I had a most enjoyable time with Madame Drake,” Cathryn said.
“And what about Master Drake? Was he there too?”
“Master Drake?” Cathryn spun around to look at Hannah.
“It was Master Drake who came to call a few weeks ago, was it not?” Cathryn met Hannah’s amused gaze, and turned around on the stool.
“Yes.”
“Did you have opportunity for private conversation?”
Cathryn closed her eyes. “Yes.” She paused. “He wants me to marry him.”
“Marry? Does he know about your betrothal?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“I promised to think upon it.”
Hannah pulled the butterfly pin from Cathryn’s braid, and brought it closer to examine it.
“This is beautiful. Where did you get it?”
“It was a gift from Margaret Drake.” Cathryn met Hannah’s gaze in the mirror. “It was crafted by Favian Drake.”
“Ah!” They fell into silence for a few minutes as Hannah pulled the brush through Cathryn’s hair, making it gleam in the candlelight. “Do you love him?”
Cathryn dropped her face into her hands. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Then you already have your answer,” Hannah said.
Cathryn thought about Hannah’s words as she lay in bed some time later. Was it really so simple?
The moon was dropping in the night sky when a slight wind picked up, blowing open the shutters. Cathryn shivered in her sleep as the tenor of her dreams changed. Once again, Aaron stalked through her dreams while dragons roamed through the sky. She tossed and turned, mumbling in her sleep, seeking a refuge from the beast that pursued her. A gust of wind banged the shutter against the wall, and Cathryn woke with a start, searching the room wide-eyed for fire-breathing monsters, before falling back on her pillows. Another dream, she thought. It seemed she could not escape either Aaron or the dragon. The dream was already fading, but something teased at the edges of her mind. She closed her eyes and reached, trying to grasp the disappearing tendrils — there was something in the dream she needed to remember, but already it was gone.
Cathryn pulled the quilt up around her ears, trying to find sleep once more, but the wind was banging the shutter repeatedly against the wall. After a few minutes, she abandoned the effort to sleep and rose from her bed. The sky was already lightening as she leaned out the window to secure the offending covering. A few clouds scudded through the heavens, but they were quickly being pushed aside by the force of the wind. After a swift debate, Cathryn turned away from the window and dragged on her riding habit, tugging the stays at her side tight before pulling on her sturdy boots. She crept down the stairs and quietly let herself out the door and onto the street.
Once again Cathryn had to rouse a sleeping stable boy, but the promise of a shiny coin quickly brought him to his feet, and within a few minutes Cathryn was trotting down the street on Morana’s back. She lifted her chin into the wind and shook her hair loose as she left the town gates behind her, letting the breeze catch the tendrils and toss them around her face. She slackened the reins as soon as she reached the meadow, and the horse whickered into the wind as it gathered speed. She could see the oak tree in the distance, a dark smudge against the grey sky. After a brief gallop, Cathryn pulled in her mare and slowed her to a trot. There was a rider in the distance, traveling in her direction, and he slowed as he drew near. The light was still too dim to see the features clearly, but Cathryn could make out a man riding the back of a very large stallion. His horse was fidgety and unsettled, uncomfortable with the weight on its back. The pair drew closer, and Cathryn drew in a breath when she recognized Favian coming towards her.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Good morning, my love!” he said with a grin. “I could ask the same of you.”
“I often ride in the morning,” she said with a toss of her head, “but I have never seen you out here before.”
“I found myself unable to sleep,” he explained, “and thought a ride would help clear my thoughts.”
“Do I dare enquire why you couldn’t sleep?” she asked cheekily.
“You can ask, but I will not give you an answer,” he said. “Now your turn — why are you out so early?”
“I found myself unable to sleep,” she replied, “and thought a ride would help clear my thoughts.” Favian laughed.
“Touché,” he said.
“Is that your horse?” she asked as it snorted and flicked its tail beneath him.
“No, I rented him from the stables,” he said. He leaned down and patted the horse on the neck, but the action did nothing to quiet the animal. “He’s not very calm, but I can guarantee that he’s fast. Do you want to race to that oak at the end of the meadow?”
“Race?” she exclaimed in horror. “A lady does not race!”
Favian pulled back in surprise. “My apologies, Cathryn. I did not mean to suggest you were not —”
He kicked his horse into motion as Cathryn flew out ahead of him, her laughter trailing on the wind behind her. She reached the tree first, and reined Morana in sharply before sliding off her back.
“Yes?” she said with a sweet smile as Favian reined in beside her. “I did not catch what you were saying.”
“You,” he said as he jumped off the horse, “are a very sneaky woman.” She took a step back as he stalked towards her, but the tree behind her gave her no leeway for escape. “I think,” he continued, placing his hands on the tree trunk on either side of her head, “I will have to re-evaluate your character.”
“Really?” she said, but the word came out in a breathy waver. He was so close, his eyes intent on her. Flecks of yellow burned deep within his eyes, and she watched, mesmerized, as he brought his face closer. Her lips opened, and then his mouth was on hers, sending a flame of heat rushing through her. Wrapping a hand around her neck, he pulled her closer, tangling his hand in her hair and keeping her captured. Her hands slipped around his back, lingering for a moment before sliding up towards his shoulders, caressing the taut muscle and sinew just beneath his skin. She could feel his warmth through the thin fabric of his tunic, and pressed herself even closer, curling her body into his. His lips moved away from hers, trailing over her neck, before he pulled away slightly, looking down into her eyes. .
“Does this mean you are ready to give me an answer,” he asked softly. She dropped her head back to the tree trunk behind her, her heart pounding in her chest. His gaze held hers as he waited for an answer, and she smiled up at him, before twisting away in a quick movement, slipping under his arm with a laugh.
“Perhaps,” she said, “but then again, perhaps not.”
“Tell me,” he said, turning around and leaning back against the tree, “did you dream about me last night?”
“That would be telling,” she teased, “but I will tell you this: I dreamt about your cousin.”
“Aaron?” His face grew concerned. “Did you have another nightmare?”
“No,” she said slowly, “I don’t think so. It was a strange dream, but not like before.”
“Tell me,” he said.
“I don’t really remember it,” she replied. The eastern sky was glowing wi
th the colors of sunrise, and Cathryn turned to watch. “Aaron was in it, as was the dragon. I woke up in the middle of the dream, but as soon as I awoke, I felt as though I was missing something. That there was something I should know about the dragon, but it kept eluding me.” She turned to look at Favian, who was watching her silently.
“What do you think it means?” she said.
“I think it means that you are still afraid of the dragon.”
“No, it’s something more, I know it. There is something I know about the dragon, but just cannot remember.”
“Cathryn, what do you know about dragons? Just a few days past you didn’t even believe they existed!”
“Well, I know what I’ve heard in the stories,” she said.
“Stories,” scoffed Favian. “There’s very little truth in stories.”
“I know that dragons are fierce monsters.”
“Only some of them.”
“I know they eat innocent maidens.”
“Pure fabrication.”
“I know they breathe fire,” she continued.
“Well, yes, that’s true,” he admitted.
“And have tails with spikes that can mortally injure someone.” Favian shrugged his concurrence.
“And …” Cathryn cast her mind back to the night at the Bradshaws’, trying to recall what else the bard had said about dragons. “Dragons can …” Her eyes widened as the story came rushing back.
“Yes?” Favian prompted.
“Dragons can take on the form of man,” she whispered, taking a step back. She looked up at Favian, looking for confirmation, and saw the expression freeze on his face as he stared at her.
“Is that true?” she whispered, but Favian remained silent.
“Aaron,” she gasped, “Aaron is … Aaron is a dragon, isn’t he?” Still Favian remained silent, his face set like stone.
“But how …? He’s your cousin!” She stared at Favian, the color draining from her face as she took another step backwards.
“Cathryn,” he said, taking a step towards her, but she held up her hand, stumbling as she backed away from him.
“No,” she whispered, “tell me it’s not true. Tell me you’re not … not a dragon.”