The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [32]
‘Gwarro, it’s just too awful,’ Sagraeffa said. ‘I’ve been weeping for hours.’
Around her swollen eyes ran little streaks of Bardekian kohl, witnesses to the truth of her tears. She’d taken off her headscarf as well and dishevelled her hair, which hung like thick dark ropes around her full face.
‘I just hate this,’ she went on. ‘You can’t go!’
‘I don’t have any choice, do I? By the black hairy arse of the Lord of Hell, do you think this gladdens my heart?’
Sagraeffa snivelled and twisted her handkerchief tightly between pale fingers. Lady Sagraeffa, wife to Lord Obyn of the White Wolf, was a lovely woman, with raven-dark Eldidd hair and cornflower-blue eyes to match. For months, Gwairyc had been stalking her, flattering her, courting her, and now, just when he had a chance at the prize, disaster had ended his hunt. He felt like strangling her for putting him off for all these months. As if she read his temper, she shrank back into the corner of the window-seat.
‘I shall miss you so,’ she said. ‘Don’t you even know where that awful old man is going?’
‘I don’t. The hells, for all I care.’
Sagraeffa gave a small delicate sob and twisted the handkerchief tighter. With a muttered oath, Gwairyc got up and began pacing around the chamber, which was stuffed with cushioned furniture and little knick-knacks. He picked up a silver basket of glass flowers from Bardek and considered heaving it into the gilded mirror above the hearth.
‘Gwarro, what are you doing?’ Sagraeffa snuffled. ‘Come sit down. We don’t have very long, and I want one of your kisses.’
Gwairyc paced back, but he stood over her rather than sitting down. She leaned against red velvet cushions and smiled wistfully at him.
‘How long will your cursed husband be gone?’
‘How should I know?’ Sagraeffa pouched her full lips into a moue. ‘He’s so tedious when he gets to talking with Lord Banryc.’
‘Good.’
When Gwairyc sat down next to her, she smiled, offering him her hand, then pulling it back again. She wanted some more fine words, he supposed, all that courtly drivel that she ate up, like a chicken pecking seed as he trailed it out in front of her.
‘My heart aches at leaving you, my love,’ Gwairyc said. ‘It’s the worst thing of all.’
Sagraeffa smiled, moving a little closer and letting him catch her hand.
‘Ah by the hells, how can the gods be so cruel?’ Gwairyc went on. ‘They show me the love of my life, then tear me away from her.’
‘Well, they’ve done the same to me. That beastly old man! Oh, Gwarro, it’s going to be all tedious again without you.’
Gwairyc pulled her close and kissed her. With a sigh, she slipped her arms around his neck and let him take a few more kisses, but when he laid his hand on her breast, she giggled, pulling away and glancing at the door. Admittedly, her stupid husband could come in at any minute, but Obyn was a man who liked his habits, and one of those habits was having three games of carnoic with Lord Banryc every other night. He estimated that they were just finishing the first one.
‘Now come along, my love. It’s our last night together. Are you going to be as cruel as the gods and send me away without even a splendid memory of your love?’
Sagraeffa caught her lower lip under her front teeth and stared up at him, honestly frightened. All at once, Gwairyc realized that she’d never had any intention of sleeping with him.
‘Obyn might come back.’ Her voice shook.
‘So what? I’ve already been banished, haven’t I? And do you think that dry stick of a husband of yours has the strength to beat you? I’ll wager he doesn’t. He won’t be back anyway.’
‘But I—’
Gwairyc caught her face in both hands and kissed her hard. When she squirmed away, he caught her by the shoulders and kissed her again. For a moment she struggled with him, then went satisfyingly limp in his arms.
‘You told me you loved me. Do you or not?’
Sagraeffa looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, a pleasant sign of weakness. This time, he kissed her gently, letting his mouth linger on hers. She laid a