Page 20 of Border Lord’s Bride

He couldn't seem to make himself move forward into the chamber. He just stood there, seeing a hundred moments pass through his mind's eye. Like the time he'd won his first mock battle against Marcus…or the day Peter had been thrown from his horse and broken his collarbone…their first hunting trip together…the day he'd kissed Elizabeth…Peter's thirteenth birthday…Marcus's laughter as they told each other stories late into the night…

He forced the memories away, refusing to let them keep him trapped forever. He had to stop pretending and face whatever reality lay before him. He thrust the door wide and stepped inside. The golden glow from the candles seeped into the shadows.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he stepped further into the chamber and slowly, numbly, moved about his room, touching anything and everything in his path—the table near the bedside with the small wooden cross he kept there, a silver bowl holding a dried rabbit's foot, a shark's tooth, and three Roman coins Peter had collected and given to him as gifts over the years.

He moved to the bed and brushed the clean woolen tartan cloth covering the ticking beneath. At the window he traced his fingers over the chilled pane. It was so rare to have anything but shutters in homes such as theirs. But his father had insisted on the expensive luxury and had sent four of his men to Vienna by ship to bring a dozen leaded panes home.

For a moment, his grief swelled. It had been five years ago his father died. He missed his father, but he'd learned to live without him during the time he'd been away. He smoothed his fingers over the glass once more before turning away.

Finally, when he could no longer avoid looking at her image, Lucius brought his gaze to the portrait he'd painted of Elizabeth. His mother had insisted he learn to paint with an instructor when she'd discovered his novice attempts kept hidden in the cellar. He'd used boiled berries and bark mixed with egg whites to create his paints.

He'd painted the portrait the night after he'd found Elizabeth and Marcus kissing in the garden. "God's blood, Marcus. Why did you have to intrude where you didn't belong?"

But it wasn't the kiss that weighed him down. It was the neglect he'd assumed toward his family. Lucius shifted his gaze to the wood-beam ceiling overhead and clenched his jaw against the familiar pain. He couldn't continue this wretched cycle of sadness, grief, and guilt. He had to pull himself out of it.

What he needed were new memories of this place and the people he loved who were still very much present in his life. He drew a steadying breath. Resolved to move forward, he grabbed the brace of candles from his bedside table and headed for the door, to the one person who could help him.

Elizabeth.

Silently he crept down the stairs and to the chamber where she slept. At her door, he knocked softly. No response. He tried the latch. The door opened soundlessly and he stepped into the room.

A wedge of yellow-bright light penetrated the darkness of her chamber as he made his way to her bedside. She slept with the blankets entwined around her slender curves. At the sight of her, his body ached. Desire that had lain dormant through his years as a warrior flared to life.

"Elizabeth?" he whispered.

She startled awake. "Lucius?" She shifted the blankets to cover her body. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was smooth and husky with sleep.

"I came to ask a favor of you."

She sat up and pulled her woolen chemise up on her shoulders. "Go on," she encouraged.

He didn't really know what to say. He hadn't known since the moment she walked back into his life two days ago. And yet he'd never felt more alive than he did right now. He drew in the scent of her. "Will you go with me to the outcropping where we used to play?"

"Now?"

He nodded. "You said I needed to make new memories. I want to watch the sun rise over the grassland with you."

Her gaze narrowed on him. "Can't sleep?"

He nodded.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "I'll need to dress. What if I meet you downstairs in a few moments?"

He smiled. "Thank you," he said as he set the candleholder near her bedside and removed one of the two candles. He left the room, softly shutting the door behind him. A sense of lightness came to him as he made his way downstairs to wait.

It didn't take long to saddle a horse, and riding double, they emerged into the night, heading north, away from the manor. He guided the horse toward the outcropping in the distance and looked up at the stars twinkling in the clear night sky. A soft wind crept past them and the leafless trees sparkled with their coating of frost and ice. Beneath the horse's feet, the snow had started to melt, leaving barren patches here and there across the landscape.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful the scenery is here," Lucius said.

"I imagine you've seen many wonderful things in the past few years," she replied.

He tried to recall anything that rivaled this moment and could think of none. "It's interesting how beautiful home looks when you've been away for a while."

"I'm certain that's true," she said softly.

When they arrived at the outcropping, Lucius dismounted, then offered Elizabeth his hand. "I know you're more than capable of getting off this horse yourself, but indulge me."

"Isn't that why we are here in the middle of the night?"