Touch of Passion (29 page)

There were other differences in their missives as well.

Dyfed's letters were far less conversational than Loris's and always straight to the point. He reported his findings, or lack of them, regarding the
athanc
and kept Kian apprised of all those little details that Loris failed to mention, such as the rather large number of would-be suitors attempting to
attach themselves to Lord Perham's granddaughter, who, despite her advanced age of three and twenty, had been declared a diamond of the first water by all those who saw her. Loris seemed not to understand that these gentlemen were casting lures in her direction, but the Seymour men were more than able to handle such nuisances in a thorough, quiet manner. That these dealings had given rise to rumors that Loris had already been spoken for by one of those same Seymours—either Malachi, Kian, or even Dyfed himself—was unavoidable, and certainly preferable to rumors that might link her name to another man.

Dyfed asked for news of Desdemona, and when he had the opportunity and time to do so, Kian sent back as many details as he felt he might safely relate. She appeared to be very much the same to him, but, then, he did not know the young woman well and his general impression was that she was a somewhat morose individual even at the best of times. If she was experiencing some greater sadness because of Dyfed's absence, Kian wasn't able to discern it. But this he did not tell Dyfed, and took great care to neither alarm nor depress his love-sickened twin.

Loris's letters were far more detailed. Kian didn't ascribe this to having been forgiven but to the fact that, whether she realized it or not, he was the person she'd grown accustomed to being in company with during the past ten years. No one else, not his father or brother or even Liw, had spent as much time with Loris as Kian had. They generally engaged in arguing during those hours, admittedly, but they had been together nonetheless. Loris had simply grown so used to their dealings that she had taken them for granted. Her letters were borne out of the habit she'd formed of telling Kian of her days, save now she told him of London, rather than Tylluan.

She was careful not to write of what had happened between them, only of what was taking place, day to day, and of her new and happy relationship with Lord Perham. She clearly didn't realize how intimate her tone truly was when
she wrote to Kian or perhaps it was simply that she'd never learned how to write
ton
nish letters, but her missives were always so frank and open that he could imagine her standing right in front of him, speaking the words aloud.

She told him of how wonderful it was to have a grandfather, especially one like Lord Perham, who, according to Loris, was everything that a grandfather should be. She had accepted the earl's invitation to move into his grand London town house so that they could spend more time together and was trying to get used to being surrounded by such wealth and elegance. She worried about what Lord Perham would think of Tylluan by comparison but longed to bring him there, regardless, just as soon as she possibly could.

But she was discovering, as Kian had known she would, that it wasn't quite so easy to get out of a Season as into one. Now that she was Perham's granddaughter and heir, she had to have a proper come-out—a grand ball that was going to be given by both Lord Perham and Lord Graymar. And she had to be introduced to a great many people, many of them very high-ranking members of the nobility. Loris was finding it to be a rather exhausting and somewhat terrifying process, but she didn't wish to dismay or disappoint Lord Perham so soon. And so she did as she was told and made herself be patient. She had been assured, and hoped it was true, that the Season wouldn't last forever.

Her letters didn't dwell entirely on her new relationship with her grandfather. Kian had also learned about the fine new wardrobe that Julia had helped Loris to amass and of Dyfed patiently teaching her how to dance. She told Kian of her first few forays into society, such as her first dinner party and the obligatory visit to Almack's, where both Malachi and Lord Perham had caused something of a fuss by insisting that they be the first to partner her in a dance. Dyfed had evidently grown impatient with the two men and simply taken Loris by the hand and drawn her out onto the floor.

Some kind of contest had seemingly sprung up between Lord Perham and the Earl of Graymar, and this troubled Loris a good deal. Lord Perham wished to take precedence over decisions regarding her Season, but Malachi firmly refused to give way, probably, Kian thought, because of the unbreakable bond Loris had with the Seymours through the
unoliaeth
.

The result was that both men had begun to present Loris with a great deal of jewelry to mark the occasion of every event she attended. And each gift was more expensive and grand than the last, so that she was now in possession of so many bracelets, necklaces, ear bobs, and bejeweled hair combs that she didn't believe she would ever be able to wear them all. What would she do with such pretty things at Tylluan? she asked Kian in one of her most recent letters.

She reported that the balls and parties that followed these initial events were very nice, but wearisome, and that she didn't understand why members of the
ton
insisted upon keeping such horrid hours. In all truth, there was very little she understood about the ways of society, and her observations, always amusing, never failed to make him smile and wish that he might be there to see London through her eyes.

She enjoyed dancing, she said, though she favored being partnered by his brother or cousins or Lord Perham. She found the other gentleman she'd met thus far to be wonderfully elegant and fine but somewhat daunting for a girl who'd lived all her life among much simpler folk. She didn't mind it when Lord Graymar was being clever, for he reminded her so much of Kian that his dry remarks never bewildered her. But, she confessed in a particularly candid remark, whenever one of the Corinthians who'd taken a fancy to her began to tell her how lovely she was or that her eyes were like fine amber and her hair like the purest gold, Loris found it difficult not to giggle. Which was truly lowering, for as Kian knew very well, she didn't and never had giggled and had always thought women who did so quite
foolish. It was proof, she said, that being in Town was starting to affect her nerves.

At some point, she always got around to asking Kian whether he'd made any progress with the troubles at Tylluan. She did a poor job of trying to discover, in a roundabout way, anything of what he'd learned from Dyfed about what was truly happening. Dyfed, evidently, hadn't revealed more than Kian had, so that Loris was near to tearing her hair out with curiosity. Why, she demanded, should everyone but her know what they had discovered from Desdemona Caslin? The insult Loris felt came through quite clearly, but Kian didn't yet want her to know of the
athanc
. She already worried too much over his lack of sleep and sustenance; if she knew that his struggle was with an enormous beast that was part dragon, part water demon, she'd be frantic.

As to his twin, Loris related that Dyfed was very busy both day and night, either in company with Professor Seabolt, searching through ancient manuscripts for special enchantments to solve Tylluan's troubles, or escorting her to various functions. She hadn't been surprised to discover how popular he was in London among the
ton
or how many young women had set their caps for him, for he was very handsome and personable. But she had been rather amazed at Dyfed's reaction to such adoration. He appeared not to care for it in the least and often found it wearying and distasteful. He was desperately eager to return to Tylluan, and as each day passed she thought he looked more withdrawn and unhappy. But he faithfully fulfilled his duties as chaperone and was ever vigilant to ensure Loris's comfort and pleasure, especially when they were in company. Loris assured Kian that she'd said nothing yet to anyone of the betrothal and heard no whispers regarding either Morcar Cadmaran or Desdemona Caslin when she was out in society.

She usually concluded her missives with additional instructions for the servants that she feared she had forgotten and asked repeatedly that Kian make certain her garden was
being tended to daily, as she didn't wish to come home and find it all a shambles. The words comforted Kian deeply. Being Loris and exceedingly practical, she didn't waste her time as some females did in making coy or affected statements. If she spoke of coming home to Tylluan, then that was precisely what Loris intended to do.

Picking up the first of her letters from his lap, Kian sent up a silent prayer that those intentions would come true just as soon as they possibly could.

Loris surveyed the letter she'd just finished with a careful eye. She hadn't been in the habit of writing much before coming to London, for at Tylluan she'd never had anyone to write to, save Julia these past three years, but Loris believed her skill was improving. The single page wasn't as terribly blotched with ink as her first few letters to Kian had been, and her handwriting was almost becoming legible.

She had surprised herself by writing to him so frequently, for she certainly would have found it difficult to speak to him as much if she had remained at Tylluan. At least until her feelings regarding his deception had lessened. But she found herself looking forward each afternoon to the time that she spent laboring at the little writing desk that her grandfather had had placed in her bedchamber and to telling Kian of all that had happened the night before at whatever ball or party they had attended. Though Kian understood the ways of the
ton
Loris knew that no one else among her acquaintances would find society's odd behavior as amusing as she did.

Even their conversations were, she found, terribly funny. The
ton
had a dozen different ways of saying what they wished without ever actually saying it. Just last night she had stood among a group of Julia's friends and heard a certain
unfortunate young man called a cake, a beetle-head, a rattlepate, and a noddy. It had taken Loris a good five minutes of this sort of talk before she'd at last asked, “Do you mean to say he's a fool?”

They had all stared at Loris as if she had been terribly rude, but Julia, bless her, had laughed with delight and smoothed the matter over—just as she and Malachi and Dyfed and Niclas had been obliged to smooth so many matters over. Still, Loris couldn't recall the moment without a smile, and she knew that Kian would laugh over it as well.

He didn't write to her in turn very often, but Loris hadn't expected that he would write at all. Being the master of Tylluan wasn't like being a wealthy landowner of leisure possessed of many valuable estates, as Lord Graymar and her grandfather were. Kian was obliged to personally oversee the management of Tylluan's crops and livestock, to support his tenants with both his presence and decisions. She knew firsthand how little time he had to himself each day, and with the troubles to manage as well she was amazed that he found a few spare moments to pick up a pen and set it to paper.

It was strange to have his letters, to see how elegantly he wrote and to read over his carefully chosen words, to hear his voice in her mind as she read them. She had never read anything that he had composed before—apart from lists or instructions regarding Tylluan—and found the experience to be . . . well, she couldn't really think of the right word, though
romantic
had crossed her mind. There wasn't any arguing in his letters, or sarcasm or mockery. He didn't mention the
unoliaeth
or Liw or the experience they had shared, but he didn't pretend that all was perfectly well, either.

He told her of Tylluan and the things that he knew she wanted to hear of, assuring her that all was well with the servants and castle and gardens. He promised that he was both resting and taking proper nourishment and that the hunt for a solution to the troubles was going forward. He even managed to make his nightly outings with the men sound humorous, describing the jokes they played on one
another and how they had a wager over who would be the first to successfully play one on Kian. No one, as yet, had come close, but that, Loris thought, was to be expected when one attempted to outwit an extraordinary wizard.

He brought Tylluan to life for her, describing the weather, the flowers that bloomed, and the way the valley was changing as spring progressed, the grass growing even greener and the streams widening as snow melted from the mountains. The days were growing longer, as well, and warmer, but still there was the rain, and the thick fog that crept in at night.

Loris realized how valuable the gift was that Kian gave her, telling her of such mundane matters. Anyone else would have found it dull, reading the same things in every letter. It was something entirely different to Loris. She was grateful. More even than that, she had realized, perhaps for the first time, just how well Kian knew and understood her. As no one else save Liw had ever done.

There's no need for you to grieve for Liw. He's here, alive in me, and always will be. . . . I'm here, too
.

“Yes,” Loris murmured, running a finger over the page before her. “I know you are, Kian.”

She missed him. He'd tried to tell her that she would, and she'd not wanted to believe him, because it only made the
unoliaeth
seem more real. But he'd been right. Whatever she had enjoyed in London, whatever pleasure she'd felt, had only made the sense that something was missing worse. It had been food without seasoning, a painting without color. Wherever she went she was achingly aware that he wasn't with her, that she'd not be seeing him later in the day or hearing his voice. Even his mocking smile and sarcasm would have been welcome to her now. And as each day passed, the longing she felt for Kian was slowly but certainly overwhelming the sense of loss she felt for Liw.

A soft knock fell on the door, and Loris turned in time to see Elen's fair head peering in. The serving girl had come to stay at Lord Perham's town house with Loris, though Julia and Niclas had invited her to remain with them. But Elen, as
it happened, hadn't been as impressed by city life as she had thought she'd be. The crowds and noise and busy roads frightened her. She had even begun to hint that it would be nice to go home to Tylluan soon, where everything was so peaceful and quiet.