Page 7 of Cadell the Dragon

“Lady Johanna has come back to live at Bryn Glas after the death of her husband and was kind enough to accept our invitation tonight. I thought she would like to see some familiar faces, and meet people who could speak English.”

“Indeed, I am,” she answered with another of her dazzling smiles. “It’s good to see you again, Cade.”

Something fell to the bottom of Cadell’s stomach. She did not remember him, after all. If she did, she would know that his name was not really Cade, which was the nickname only his brother used.

“My name is Cadell,” he said, more crisply than he’d intended. But he could not behave otherwise when disappointment had crushed his soul.

Johanna flushed. “Forgive me. Only, I just heard Siaspar say⁠—”

“Yes, I know. He calls me Cade but no one else does. I mean, should I call you Anna?”

Siaspar arched a brow as the rude question slashed through the air. What the hell are you doing? he seemed to ask. Cadell had no idea what he was doing. Suddenly he didn’t know how to act normally, he barely remembered how to stand or breathe.

This was too hard, too much, and somehow, despite the long, ten years that had passed, it was too soon. He had hoped, against all reason, that his feelings for the lady would have, if not disappeared, at least lost some of their painful, ragged edges. They had not. Now that he stood in front of her, they were back with a vengeance, slicing through him with renewed ferocity. Though he had never been able to forget her, he had, by necessity, learned to keep the constant longing for her under control. It had now burst forth like a torrent, and he feared that if he stayed in front of her a moment longer, she would know what he felt, because he would do something foolish.

Like draw her into a kiss, blurt out a heated declaration, or make a fool of himself in some way or another. It was better to leave while he could.

“If you will excuse me. I see Madoc ap Gethin over there. There was something I had to tell him.”

With that curt apology, he left the group.

“Excuse my brother,” he heard Siaspar say while he strode to the other side of the great hall as fast as was feasible in this crowd. “He’s…”

He never heard what excuse he gave Johanna for his odd behavior, as the rest of the explanation was lost in the murmur of voices. It was only when Cadell arrived in front of Madoc, a pompous local knight he had absolutely no desire to see, that he realized just how unforgivably rude he’d been with the only woman he had ever loved—and would likely ever love. Jesus, what on earth would Siaspar say to excuse his behavior? What was there to say?

Excuse my brother, he’s a boor.

Excuse my brother, he’s clearly gone mad.

Excuse my brother, he’s in love with you and has no idea how to deal with it.

What a shambles.

A sinking feeling spread through Johanna as she watched Cadell walk away. What had possessed her to call him Cade? Such a familiar nickname when she knew full well what his actual name was. Cadell ap Llywelyn, which had seemed like a real mouthful when she’d first heard it. She did indeed remember the boy who had fostered at the same time as Siaspar and had become as close to him as a real brother. He had been the first person she had really spoken to at Castell y Ddraig, apart from their host.

But the youth she remembered had become a striking man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with warm brown eyes and golden hair, he was a warrior in his prime, and the woman in her had stirred at the sight of him. Everything was changed.

He’d been rather shy at the time, he was now commanding. He’d appeared awed by her then, he had now been almost rude.

“Excuse my brother,” Siaspar told her, oblivious to the feelings the other Welshman had provoked in her, “he’s been preoccupied of late and I know he was anxious to see Madoc, which is precisely why I invited the man tonight.”

“Of course.”

Why should he spend time with her anyway? An older, widowed woman would be the last person a man like him wanted to spend time with, no doubt preferring the company of one of the young ladies assembled by the hearth, who were ogling him shamefully.

She forced herself to push the encounter out of her mind and make the most of her evening. After all, she and Cadell had not seen one another for ten years and would likely not have the opportunity to exchange more than a few pleasantries tonight or meet again in the next decade. There was no reason to dwell on his new-found gruffness or her unexpected reaction to him.

But barely a moment later, when the master and mistress of the castle invited people to sit down, she found herself on the stool next to Cadell. As she couldn’t think of a single reason to move—and she was actually pleased with the coincidence—she stayed where she was.

A servant deposited a platter of roasted goose meat between them. Instantly, Cadell selected the best, most tender morsel and placed it on her side of the trencher the two of them were sharing.

“I do remember you,” she said, before she could think the better of the declaration. Why did she feel the need to insist? Wouldn’t it be better to forget the whole embarrassing incident? Probably. But here she was, justifying herself. “And your name. I don’t know why I called you Cade before. Forgive me.”

He sighed, and for a moment reminded her of the youth he had once been, who had promised to keep her visit to the storeroom a secret. It had felt oddly wicked to be seen doing something forbidden by a stranger who would forever be aware of a side of her she should never have shown anyone.

“It’s not a problem,” he said, looking straight at her. “I’m sorry I barked at you. Only, I’ve been rather…” He waved a hand, as if unsure what to tell her to explain his rudeness.

“Preoccupied. Yes. Your brother said you wanted to see a man called Madoc. I hope he was able to set your mind at rest.”