Heart Dance (45 page)

She fell on the bed and moaned in rising desire.

Fairyfoot hopped aside and stalked away.

With fumbling fingers, she drew out the box, and her hand clamped over it, impressing the pattern of the metal on her palm.

But it wasn’t enough. She had to see what he’d made her. She had to claim what was hers. Her vision dimmed, and she thought she saw him in the shadows of the room.
Come to me
, she sent to him but knew he wouldn’t. It was her turn to come to him, heart, mind, body open for him, offering all. One by one she forced her fingers from the box, stuck her thumbnail in the crack, opened it. The box tilted in her hands, the fabric and swathed object rolled out and lit on the bed, gleamed pretty white and green and gold. A thimble, glazed white and painted with tiny thyme sprigs.

Perfect. She touched it, and it slipped onto her middle finger.

Perfect. Her release rolled through her, as if he’d stroked her to climax.

Taking off his robe, Saille laid it over the round arm of the couch and smoothed it. Myx came out from under the couch, stretched, trotted over to Saille’s robe, and sniffed at it. Sneezed.
Strong smell.

“Incense.”

The cat wrinkled his nose, sat and cleaned his whiskers with a paw.
Cats have nine lives.

“I’ve heard that.”

“Good of you to tell me.” Saille had always thought of death as a door.

Myx cocked his head.
You still not happy.

Saille lifted a shoulder. Waiting on the conflict wore on him.

“Uh—” He’d accepted Myx’s gifts with profuse praise. But before he could say anything else Myx was through the cat door and into the cold.
Good hunting
, Saille sent.

I’ve never seen a faster cat
, Saille said.

Saille was still smiling, his mind and emotions and links wide open, when Dufleur’s mental fingers stroked his body, settled on his cock, and lust took him to his knees. She had his HeartGift. Not again.

Yes. Again.

Come to m
e, she called.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t let her wound his heart and throw it out into the cold as she’d done the HeartGift itself.

She’d opened the pouch and took out the box and fit the thimble on her finger. She’d accepted it.

His last coherent thoughts were that this was not a good time to be ambushed by lust for a HeartMate who’d hurt him deeply. Did Dufleur think that if she accepted the HeartGift everything was mended between them?

Desire and despair filled him as her orgasm triggered his.

Dufleur lay physically satisfied and emotionally wrenched.
Saille had participated in the mental loving, as usual, but it had been less loving and more sex. She’d completely opened her body, mind, soul, but he’d kept their link narrow.

She’d sensed his hurt, tried to send love, contrition, comfort, but he’d refused it. She’d fumbled with the HeartBond, too, but she thought they could only HeartBond when they were physicallymaking love. She still didn’t know as much as she should about HeartMates and HeartBonds and everything.

Stopping to research it, even to ask Winterberry ResidenceLibrary,would be cowardly. She rewrapped the thimble in the silkeen, in the box, in the pouch. Then she rose from the bed and went to cleanse herself under the waterfall, aching inside because she knew Saille was far ahead of her in recovering from the bout of lust and had already washed and had his clothes cleaned and dressed again. He was refusing to accept that their mental mating was anything more than a bout of lusty sex. As she had once refused.

Now she understood how much and how often she’d hurt him, and her tears mixed with the clean flow of the waterfall. She ached. He ached. And it was all her fault. She’d been cowardlyand clumsy, as clumsy as she’d always sensed she would be. Self-fulfilling prophecy.

She’d no doubt be clumsy in the future.

But she wouldn’t be cowardly. She set a spell to dry her as she chose her clothes. Her very best daywear. A gold damask tunic she’d embroidered herself with the bright blue stylized cloud-like symbols that meant “time” to the Thymes around the long sleeves and the hem and side slits. She dressed in very full blue trous embroidered in gold that gathered at the ankles and the waist. The latest, expensive fashion. Saille deserved the best. She slid the red pouch containing his HeartGift into the long pocket of her left sleeve.

She, too, had made a HeartGift during her third Passage— the fugues that freed Flair—three and a half months ago. She’d wrapped it, put it in a drawstring bag and spellshielded it.

She had accepted his HeartGift. Would he accept hers?

Going over to the closet, she found the corner where she’d placed her HeartGift and drew out the soft rectangular package. His thimble HeartGift had been the perfect fit. She didn’t know how that happened, but she figured that what she’d made would fit him, too.

“Fairyfoot?” she called.

The FamCat trotted in.
I am here, to accompany you to Our new home.

“Only if he accepts us.”

How could he not want Me?
Fairyfoot actually winked at Dufleur, and she laughed some of her nerves away. She put on her formal cloak and fastened the silver clasp, again a stylized cloud, whispered a small weathershield. She was teleporting, but she was also acceding to Saille’s wishes in being prepared for winter otherwise.

After checking to make sure the T’Willow Residence teleportationpad was empty, she visualized the corner of the sitting room—Saille’s mother’s—Arbusca’s—favorite public sitting room. Dufleur was surprised how easily the image came to her, as if she would always know how the light would slant on a winterafternoon.

She scooped up Fairyfoot. “Ready?”

A slight
whoosh
later, and they were in the soft and pretty rose chintz room. Arbusca put a hand to her bosom, looking startled.

Dufleur clutched Fairyfoot. Saille’s mother. Courage. “I am Saille’s HeartMate,” she said baldly.

Arbusca’s round motherly face relaxed into a smile. “I know, dear.”

“Of course you do.” Dufleur put Fairyfoot down gently onto her paws, taking the time to suck in a good breath, straightened, and met Arbusca’s gaze. “I’ve made a wretched mess of this whole HeartMate business.”

Saille’s mother looked sympathetic. "HeartMate courting is more often difficult than not.”

“Arbusca, I want you. These footmen are clumsy. We won’t keep them here in the Residence. Come transnow.” The former D’Willow sent the clipped order echoing through the Residence,using the house’s Flair.

“She’s here, that horrible woman is back!” Saille’s mother snarled.

Dufleur stared. She’d judged Arbusca to be calm, gentle, easygoing.

“I suppose you think I shouldn’t say that about my mother.” Arbusca straightened.

“She
is
horrible,” Dufleur agreed.

Cruel and nasty and horrible
,” Fairyfoot said.

Arbusca let out a breath, squeezed her eyes shut, opened them, and rubbed her temples. “Nothing but complaints and demands,but that’s not the worst. And she
radiates
malice. I swear she
whips
you with negativity as well as her sarcasm. She abused my son to me, and I listened.” Arbusca shook her head. “I don’t know how I lived with her for all these years. And I becameaccustomed to the energy and happiness in the Residence without her. I don’t know how I can possibly live with her again. It’s like trying to wear garments you’ve outgrown. She sorely tries my temper.” Her hands fisted.

Impulsively, Dufleur reached out and took Arbusca’s fists. “You must know I was the one to revive her. You must hate me for it.”

“Of course not.”

“I know Saille can handle her. You don’t doubt him, do you?”

“Of course not!” That was said with more fervor.

Dufleur searched her face. “Tell me what I can do. SomethingI can do to make this easier on all of you. My ally, SupremeJudgeElder, is considering legal options, but those can take time. Is there anything I can do here?”

Arbusca began to shake her head, then a considering look came to her eyes. “We know she kept memorysphere journals. But we haven’t been able to find them. She would have gloated over her misdeeds in them.”

We can do this
, Fairyfoot said.

Thinking that the old woman might also have put down others’ misdeeds, like T’Yew’s, Dufleur was determined to help. “I can find them, fix it so she won’t have power over any of you again.” Dufleur shifted, met Arbusca’s gaze steadily. “But later. Right now I want to see Saille and . . . tell him I love him,” she ended in a whisper.

“He’s in the front great room.” Arbusca shook her head. “He’s learned a great deal of patience, my son.”

“I know. It can be irritating.”

Arbusca smiled briefly, then sobered. “He gave my mother an ultimatum and is waiting for her to come and pledge her loyalty.” Her fingers twisted in her long tunic. “He might have to wait more than one day.”

“Then he will. He won’t be intimidated by her. Won’t let your Family suffer under her anymore. He can handle her.”

“Yes.” Arbusca huffed out a breath. “Yes, he can. Now if only the rest of us learn how to do so.”

“I won’t let him intimidate me, either,” Dufleur said.

“But love must come first,” Arbusca said. “Thank you for coming to him.”

“I have made a mistake, now I have to fix it,” Dufleur repeatedand crossed to the door, opening it.

Fairyfoot purred loudly.
He loves Us.
She twitched her whiskersat Arbusca.
All of Us.

“Yes, I know,” Arbusca said.

Dufleur waited until Fairyfoot joined her in the hallway, then closed the door behind them. Each step she walked down the corridor increased her anxiety. Saille knew she was here, yet did not communicate with her, didn’t widen their link.

Each Willow she met smiled at her, and she felt the weight of their expectations. She rolled her shoulders. Better get used to the responsibility. If she succeeded in her mission.

By the time she reached the great room, she was panting unsteadilyand had to mutter a spell to keep her perspiration from staining her clothes. She hesitated at the door, then decided knocking and waiting for an answer from him would be more cowardly than discourteous, so she opened the door and walked in, closing it after Fairyfoot. The FamCat immediately went to a chair and sat, watching with big eyes and purring—in support, Dufleur hoped.

Thirty-four

Saille was in full FirstFamily GreatLord regalia, and her knees weakened. He stood before a chair that looked like a throne, and at his side was a table holding a fancy antique sword and blazer and gold box. FirstFamily symbols. What was she doing, thinking to claim him?

He looked stern, forbidding, as if she was a mistake he’d put behind him. “Dufleur,” he said coolly.

“You were right. I was wrong.”

“About?”

“About courage. About cowardice. About valuing the opinionsof others instead of believing in myself. About the whole HeartMate thing.”

“A long list.”

“Yes.” Despite her earlier resolutions, she stuck her fingers in her hair, tugged at it. “I hurt you.”

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes. This was horrible. She was handling it all wrong. But she’d persevere. “I’ve been too much trouble for you. Like I’ve always been to everyone.” She sniffed, opened her eyes. “But I’m going to continue to be trouble for you. To make mistakes with you. To hurt you and myself and be inept. Because I love you, and I’m not letting you go.” She reached in her sleeve and pulled out the beautiful red silkeen bag containing his HeartGift. “I was going to give this back to you. So you could reject me, but I’ve decided against that.” She was rambling, fumblingfor words as always, but he would have to learn to live with that, too. “I hurt you, and that’s the worst sin of all.” Tears started leaking from her eyes, and she dashed them away. She walked straight up to him, toe-to-toe. “No one is ever going to love you as much as I love you, Saille.”

He blinked, and their bond widened just enough for her to sense his softening. She grabbed a softleaf from her sleeve, too, blew her nose, threw the tissue away. “I brought my HeartGift to you.” She withdrew the spellshielded package from her sleeve and put it on the desk that held the Willow Family possessions.

She opened her arms wide. “I am yours, Saille. I always have been, but have let my own fears and others’ opinions and actions keep me from you.”

Saille saw her swallow. Her eyes wider than he’d ever seen, her hands more nervous. It was good she was apprehensive, it meant she cared. More than just sex and affection and gratitude and whatever other bonds he’d created between them.

She stepped up to him, put her hands on each side of his face, as he’d so often done with her. “I love you, Saille. I want to HeartBond with you.”

The door swung open, and his MotherDam stumped in, followedby his mother and several of his other relatives.

Nasty old woman is here
, Fairyfoot projected loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“An animal. In my Residence. Unacceptable.”

“She’s a FamCat, sentient, as you heard,” Saille said. “I have one myself.”

“I will allow no flea-bitten animal in my house.”

Fairyfoot growled and leapt down, heading for D’Willow. Fleas were a sore topic with her. “Fairyfoot, please me and Dufleur. Don’t upset the former D’Willow.” He showed his teeth in a smile. “We prefer to handle her ourselves.”