Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) (26 page)

Chapter
45

Torn

Tastes like: Lemon merange
pie vs bar-one cake.

Smells like: Spicy cologne vs.
minty musk.

Sounds like: Piano vs harp.

Feels like: Two people, pulling
each of your arms in opposite directions.

Looks
like: The ragged edged of a torn silk sheet.

By the time daylight dawns, I’m a wreck. Despite the exhaustion,
I’ve barely slept and my head is still throbbing.

After what happened with Kael last night, he’d switched
places with Kent and I haven’t seen him since. Kent clearly knows something
happened between me and his brother last night, but he’s wisely kept his mouth
shut. He just sat in the window seat while I tossed and turned on the bed.

I’m more confused than ever now. Is it normal to feel
this way about my
seastnan
? Something
tells me it isn’t. I should think of him as a brother, but there’s nothing
sibling-like about the way I felt in his arms or the way his lips burned
against mine. I suppress a shiver of forbidden delight at the mere memory of
last night’s kiss.

When I hear a knock on the door, I groan and pull the
pillow over my head. After a moment, the door clicks open.

‘Are you alright, Bluebell?’ Nan asks.

‘No,’ I grumble.

She leans over me and gently pulls the pillow away from
my face.

‘You look awful!’ she says.

‘Gee, thanks, Nan.’

‘Should I reschedule with Tristan, dear?’

‘Were we supposed to be doing something today?’

‘Yes, he wanted to show you the Lydney estate.’

‘Oh,’ I say softly, remembering the conversation Tristan
and I had in the meadow at Abbey manor. The Lydney estate is supposed to be
our
home, after the wedding. A wave of
guilt washes over me at the thought of Tristan. What would he say if he knew
that I’d kissed Kael?

‘No, it’s fine, Nan,’ I say, wearily, ‘I’ll be fine
after I eat something.’

 
‘Are you sure?’
she asks, searching my face.

‘Yes, I…I want to see the house.’

Nan smiles tiredly and I feel like an ass. I’ve been so
busy thinking about myself that I haven’t even asked about last night’s
fire-fighting expedition.
 

‘What happened about the fire?’ I ask.

Nan frowns and looks toward the window-seat, where Kent is
curled up awkwardly against the window, fast asleep.

‘We lost a few acres but we managed to put it out, so
there’s nothing to worry about.’ She frowns and I know she’s downplaying it for
my benefit. Any loss of the forest is something to worry about. Lost forest
equals lost power for us. ‘Kael will pick you up in about an hour.’

Nan walks toward the door and I watch her leave,
wondering just how much forest was lost. How much will this fire affect us?
What’s causing them and is it just coincidence or are they linked somehow to my
attacks? The door clicks shut behind her and I pull the pillow back over my
face.

Kael does not arrive as Nan had predicted. It is Jake
who collects me from the driveway, claiming that my
seastnan
has ‘come down with the flu or something’.
Or something
. At least I’m not the only
one affected by our kiss. I still haven’t sorted everything out in my head, so
I’m kind of glad I don’t have to face Kael yet.

The drive to the Lydney estate is pleasant. Jake has such
a relaxed way about him, and his sense of humor reminds me so much of my dad,
that the drive passes by in a flash and before I look outside again, we’re at
the gates of Tristan’s estate.

Perched on the banks of the Severn River, the two
stories high mansion, overlooks immaculate green lawns, rolling toward high
front gates and surrounding meadows that bear a striking resemblance to those
of Abbey manor. An imposing water nymph fountain, in the middle of the circular
drive, trickles water into a large pond that teems with fat, golden Koi.

When the car rolls to a stop at the bottom of a sweeping
marble staircase, the heavy doors atop swing open and Tristan comes down the stairs.

He eyes my breezy, sheer blouse, the one I bought at the
festival, layered over a black cami and knee-length skirt with obvious
appreciation. I blush, feeling naked beneath his gaze. I’d chosen this
decidedly feminine outfit for the benefit of Tristan’s parents really. I
remember how under-dressed I’d felt at Abbey manor and I don’t want a repeat of
that.

‘Wow,’ Tristan says, ‘you look…wow’

‘Thanks,’ I reply, feeling heat rush to my cheeks.

Jake winds down his window, greets Tristan, and turns to
me.

‘I’ll be back around three to pick you up.’

Tristan notices the surprised look I shoot at Jake and
explains:

‘Don’t worry, we’ve cleared it with your grandmother;
mother’s
seastnan
will take care of
you today.’

I nod, although I don’t see this mysterious
seastnan
in sight. He must be around
here somewhere, watching from the shadows, otherwise Kael would never have
agreed to this…then again…My stomach gives a nervous flutter and I push away
the memories of last night as Tristan leads me up the marble steps.

‘Where do you want to start the tour?’ he asks, grinning
like a little boy.

‘Um, shouldn’t we say hello to your parents first?’ I
ask but he shakes his head.

‘They’re not here. It’s just you and me today,
princess.’

‘Oh…’ I say, in a small voice. The thought of being
alone with Tristan in this big house, especially after last night…

‘Who’s that?’ I say, gesturing toward a man who is
standing beside the front door, posture stiff and arm held in a demure position
across his middle.

‘That’s Hurley, our butler.’

The man bows formally to me and I stammer.

‘B-butler? What, like a servant?’

Tristan laughs but Hurley’s face remains expressionless.
I feel like I’ve just stepped into a Richie-Rich comic. At home, in South Africa,
having a domestic helper is commonplace amongst most middle to upper-class
families, including my own, - but a
butler
?

‘You didn’t expect to run an entire estate on your own,
did you?’ Tristan says. ‘I’ll introduce you to the rest of the staff later.’

‘Rest of…’

Tristan laughs again and pulls me by the hand through
the open doorway. I shoot Hurley an embarrassed look as we sweep past.

‘Nice to meet you, Hurley.’

He bows slightly from the waist in acknowledgement and I
look away. It just doesn’t feel right.

Once inside, I take an awed breath and survey the foyer.
A sweeping grey-white, marble staircase frames the edges of the marble-tiled entranceway.
A huge chandelier, dripping with strands of crystals, hangs suspended from the
double-volume ceiling.

‘Let’s start inside,’ Tristan says.

He leads me through the entrance hall that spans the
entire width of the house, down a passage, into a lavish, Victorian lounge.
Glass doors are folded back to reveal a balcony terrace, with breathtaking
views of the sweeping estate and a wide staircase that leads down to
beautifully landscaped gardens.

His voice is animated as he points out the art-work on
the walls, none of which I recognize, the state of the art technical equipment
and specially chosen furniture pieces. I ooh and aah at just the right times as
he leads me from one room to the next but secretly, all I can think is: who
could possibly need this much space? I can’t imagine living here, using the pieces
of furniture Tristan’s mother has so obviously picked out. There is nothing
homey
about this house; it’s too
perfect, too formal.

And then we reach the last room at the end of the west-wing
corridor.

Tristan gives me a mischievous smile, throws open the
double doors and ushers me inside. I brush past him into the room and gasp. Along
one entire wall are floor to ceiling length mirrors, the floor is hardwood and
there is a bar along the mirrored wall.

‘Your studio,’ Tristan says. I whirl to face him in
disbelief and he reaches for my hand. ‘Shaylee, I know you’re afraid of not
being able to live your own life and make your own decisions, but you need to
understand that I’ll support you all the way. I want to make you happy. I won’t
stand in the way of your dreams.’

I stand silently, gaping at him and at the room. He
squeezes my hand lightly.

‘Marrying me is not about taking away your freedom; it’s
about you and me, being partners in life and helping each other to achieve our
dreams.’

‘I – I… don’t know what to say,’ I whisper.

‘You don’t need to say anything,’ he replies and steps
forward, pulling me into his arms.

I freeze, the memory of Kael, last night, with the same
look in his eyes, flashing before me. Tristan leans toward me; I panic, pull
away and move toward the door.

‘Come on,’ I say, forcing myself to sound excited. ‘I’m
dying to see the stables!’

Tristan’s eyes flash disappointment but he follows me
back down the corridor and out onto the terrace.

‘Hang on, princess,’ he says. ‘Lunch is ready, let’s eat
first.’

I nod, surprised at how quickly the morning is
disappearing. My belly is churning too much for me to be hungry, but I let
Tristan seat me at the table on the terrace, which has been laid out with a
light feast of smoked chicken, strawberries, salad and French bread. We talk
about movies, dancing and music while I push my food around my plate.
 
 

After lunch, Tristan takes my hand and we walk in
silence down the steps to the rose-lined pathway that winds through the
gardens, toward the outbuildings.

‘You okay?’ Tristan asks.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’

‘You didn’t eat much at lunch and you’re awfully quiet
all of a sudden.’

I glance at him and then quickly away. ‘I just have a
headache.’

 
‘A headache?’ he
asks in a sharp voice, ‘Like the one you had at Abbey manor?’

‘No, nothing like that. I’m fine, really,’ I assure him
but he persists.

‘Did you have another episode, Shaylee?’

I shrug, trying to dispel his concern.

‘Yes, during last night’s festival but I’m fine now.’

Tristan falls silent as we continue toward the stable,
but when I glance at his face, his brows are furrowed together in a frown.

We stop at a white fence and I rub my hand gently along the
nose of a grey mare that has come to the side, sniffing at my pockets in the
hopes of finding a treat.

‘I think we should move the wedding up,’ Tristan says
suddenly.

My eyes fly to his and my hand freezes on the mare’s
nose.

‘What? Why?’ I stutter. The mare nuzzles my hand
impatiently.

‘Obviously these attacks have got something to do with
the marking, or with your aura. Maybe they will stop once we’re married.’

I shake my head, feeling panic well up inside me.

‘We don’t even know what causes them.’

‘But it might stop them.’

‘Or it might not.’

Tristan grabs my hand and twists me around to face him.

‘What is it you’re not telling me, Shaylee?’ he demands.
‘Why are you so afraid of committing? Haven’t I proven to you that I’ll support
you? What’s holding you back still?’

‘I just need time -’

‘Time for what?’ he demands, ‘You like me, right?’

‘Yes -’

‘You enjoy my company?’

‘Yes -’

‘You’re attracted to me?’

 
I hesitate and
Tristan puts one hand under my chin.

‘We both know you are, Shaylee.’

He leans forward, and before I can react, presses his
lips against mine. At first, I’m too unprepared to react, but then I feel the warmth
creep into my skin as his arms slide around me. The kiss is…pleasant, like a
drug, seeping through my lips and into my blood, making me warm and lazy. Tristan’s
kiss feels safe and gentle; nothing like Kael’s kiss, which was hot and electrical.

I groan, not from pleasure, but out of frustration at
the thoughts running through my head. Tristan hears me, and interpreting the
sound as passion, deepens the kiss, tilting my head back into his palm. I try
to remain still, to let him kiss me, but the rightness I’d felt last night
kissing Kael, is conspicuously absent and a voice in my head screams:
This is wrong. It feels wrong!

I push my palms against Tristan’s chest, breathing hard.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this,’ I say and flee up the
pathway toward the house.