Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [76]
"Aye," I agreed. "Is that wrong?"
"Not in the least." He smiled, and I wanted to kiss him all over again. "But I'd hope we could make a better job of it."
"Oh?" I raised my brows. "Then show me."
Raphael looked at me for a long moment without replying, his grey eyes darkening like stormclouds. It was a look that made me shiver inside. "I mean to," he said at last in a low voice. "Later. And on my terms, witch-girl."
My cheeks flushed. "All right."
I thought he meant to take me to bed that night.
I was wrong.
Raphael was gone for a few hours that afternoon on an errand. He returned in the early evening and found me in the garden, trying to recall the names of unfamiliar plants.
"Fennel," he said in answer to my unasked question. "It's good for purging the kidneys of toxins. Also for treating catarrh." He touched the feathery fronds. "The blossoms are yellow and the Tiberians believed it could cure jaundice, but I'm afraid that was mere superstition."
"It smells nice," I said.
"One can eat the bulb. Speaking of which, I believe dinner is ready to be served." He gave me his arm. "Shall we?"
At dinner, Raphael presented me with a pair of emerald eardrops.
"For tomorrow," he said. "You shouldn't make your first appearance at Court without a single jewel adorning you."
"They're beautiful," I said sincerely. "Thank you. You didn't have to do this, truly."
He shrugged. "You're going out of your way to humor me."
Something in his manner gave me pause. "Not so very far out of my way. And you've been more than generous."
"Try them on," he said.
The eardrops had delicate little screws on their backs. I screwed them in place, feeling the weight dragging at my earlobes. It was a strange feeling, but not exactly unpleasant. I gave my head an experimental shake. "Do you like them?" . Raphael nodded. "Very nice."
"Very nice." I echoed his bland compliment. "Raphael, have I offended you? Are you angry with me? Is it because of what happened…" I lowered my voice. "Is it because of what happened in the carriage?"
"No." He picked up his knife and fork, then set them down. Picked up his goblet and drank a deep draught of wine. A hovering servant moved to refill it. "Moirin… Denis de Toluard told me a tale he heard today. Months' old gossip from Alba. It takes a while to filter through to us here, but what he heard made him prick up his ears. He thought I should know about it."
"Oh?" I felt cold.
"It seems the only son of Lord Tiernan of the Dalriada was ensorceled by a young woman of the Maghuin Dhonn," Raphael said in an even tone. "A very singular young woman to hear the tale. He died because of it."
"Oh, gods bedamned!" I shoved my chair away from the table. "The one had naught to do with the other. Cillian mac Tiernan died in a cattle-raid because he was too proud and stubborn to admit he was more scholar than warrior."
"So you did ensorcel him?" he pressed.
"No!" I pushed the heels of my hands against my eyes. That lad was doomed the minute you laid eyes on him. "No."
"Moirin."
I dropped my hands. "What?"
"I'll not be toyed with," Raphael said steadily. "You're accustomed to having your way with men, that much is clear. But this is Terre d'Ange, not Alba. If you think to make me your unwitting conquest, think again."
I sighed. "I don't."
"Then stay out of my head." He rose and tossed his napkin on the table. "I don't take kindly to you rummaging through my memories and turning them to your own purposes. And I don't take kindly to your using Naamah's gift to sway me."
"That's not fair!" I protested.
"Isn't it?"
I stood and faced him. "I'm drawn to you, aye. Is it my fault if you feel the same way? And I didn't ask to see your memories any more than I asked to be run down by your carriage, Raphael de Mereliot. You're the one keeps prattling on about destiny. What am I supposed to think? How am I supposed