Again (25 page)

“Bastard.”
 
Eryn spat out.

Brandi sat up straighter and opened her eyes.
 
Usually so careful with her appearance, her eyes were puffy and without makeup, her cheeks stained from crying.
 
“Don’t be too hard on him.
 
I knew he never really wanted me.”
 
She sounded resigned, but there was an edge of hardness in her voice.
 
“I thought by getting you out of the way it would help us, but I think it just pissed him off.”

Eryn remembered her last conversation with Troy.
 
Yeah, pissed off was a fairly accurate description.

The glassiness in Brandi’s eyes disappeared as she stared at Eryn.
 
“It was you he really wanted.”

There it was.
 
Brandi was blaming her for this and she wasn’t going to let Eryn off the hook.

“I have nowhere to go,” Brandi said matter-of-factly.

Eryn returned her hard stare.
 
She should just get up, go inside, and close the door between them.
 
It was always going to be like this.
 
She was never going to make Brandi happy.

A group of neighborhood kids filtered out from the house next door, kicking around a soccer ball, their shouts filling the air.
 
The sun bore down directly overhead, heating up the roses lining the front of the house, sending out their potent fragrance.
 
But Eryn wasn’t aware of any of it.
 
The coldness and the blame in Brandi’s eyes made her shiver.
 
Now Eryn had no choice.
 
She had to fix it.

“You can have the guest room for as long as you need it.”

Brandi nodded her satisfaction.
 
She pushed herself up and held onto the wall for support.
 
The two looked at each other and in that moment Eryn could feel their friendship die.
 
But Eryn didn’t care anymore.
 
She was tired of being blamed, tired of being the one to pick up the pieces.
 
As soon as Brandi got herself together, as soon as she was able to move out, Eryn would finally walk away.
 
Until then…

“How do you feel?”
 
Eryn asked.

“Like crap.”

Eryn nodded.
 
She unlocked the front door and held it open for her new housemate.
 
She sighed.
  
Bryce wasn’t going to like this.
 

Chapter 24

“Catherine, what say you?”

Together they walked through the gardens.
 
The roses were in full bloom, gracing the gardens with their intoxicating fragrance.
 
Galen picked a brilliant yellow rose and presented it to Catherine.
 

She absent-mindedly inhaled the sweet fragrance of the petals, but his question did not penetrate Catherine’s mind, so filled was it with her own musings.

Tonight a ball would be held in honor of her eighteen summers.
 
Months ago, invitations had been sent out.
 
In recent days, hunting parties brought back game, fresh flowers had been cut, tapestries cleaned, floors swept, and rooms aired.
 
The castle was bustling with last minute preparations.

This had been an evening she had played out in her mind a hundred times.
 
She would be dressed in her finery, jewels adorning her hair and slender neck.
 
Galen would be by her side, staving off advances of potential suitors.
 
So many months ago she told herself that if true love had not yet found her, then this night would mark the beginning of their courtship.
 
She would accept her future with Galen.

But true love did find her, and in its wake left her yearning for a man she could not have.
 
How she longed to ask Jonathan to attend the ball, but that, she knew, would never come to pass.
 
Her father would never allow it.
 
Nor would Galen.

“Will you have me?”
 
Galen’s voice held a note of pleading.

The meaning behind his words finally took shape in her mind.
 
He was again asking her to be his wife.

She could not respond.

Quickly he said, “I do not wish to rush an answer from you.”
 
He raked his fingers through his hair, his laugh shaky.
 
“I fear my desire to have you as my wife far exceeds my patience.”
 
He took her hands in his and his thumbs smoothed across them. “In truth,” he said, not looking up, “I would wait a thousand lifetimes for you.”
 

His hair draped down like a curtain, hiding his face, but it could not hide the quiver in his voice.
 

Though his words spoke of forever, Catherine wondered if he truly would wait.
 
Would he not grow weary and marry another?
  

When he finally raised his eyes to hers, she saw the truth.
 
There was not the slightest shadow of doubt that he wait…forever if need be.
 

She looked away to hide the tears that burned.
 
Her soul was being torn apart between two men.
 
Two men who were so different.
 
Galen could offer her a life to which she was accustomed to, yes, but Jonathan would show how to live it with passion.

She sighed.
 
This marriage was inevitable.
 
So why did she fight the fates?
 
She squeezed her eyes tight.
 
She fought for whatever moments she could have with Jonathan.
 
She fought for the smallest hope that she had a choice.

She still spoke no words, but she knew Galen was intensely aware of her inner turmoil, though she was certain he knew not the cause.

They walked in silence through the gardens.
 
Catherine pressed the velvety rose petals to her nose and inhaled their heady fragrance.
 
She dared not look at him for fear she could crumble under his gaze.

“Do you wish to visit the port before the ball?” he asked.

Catherine shot him a sidelong glance, shocked.
 
Is it possible he knows?

He smiled.
 
“That was a foolish thing to ask.
 
Of course you already have everything you need.”
 
Galen looked straight ahead, taking a deep breath.
 
“Those merchants have quite the life, have they not?”

Catherine stiffened.
 
“Whatever do you mean?”
 
She feigned boredom, while her heart pounded mercilessly against her chest.

“I wonder how they become accustomed to having no place to call home, what with their travels from port to port.”
 
He paused, looking lost in thought.
 
“I could only imagine none of them have families, save perhaps the bastards they undoubtedly leave behind.”

Was this idle chat merely a coincidence?
 
Jonathan’s words flooded her mind.
 
They are free to go, but they have chosen to stay. That makes them family.
 
She bit her tongue.
 
As for bastards…No.
 
She dismissed the possibility from her mind.
 
Not Jonathan.

“She shrugged.
 
“Who is to say ‘tis not the perfect life for them?”

Galen stopped mid stride and grasped her shoulders, gently turning her to face him.
 
“What of you, Catherine?
 
Would you find a life with me as your husband not so perfect?”

She could feel his desperation, but how could he speak of the rest of her life when she was not even certain of this moment?
 

“You need not answer that now, Catherine.”
 
He took her hand in his and led her back to the castle.
 

At the doors to the great hall, he turned to face her.
 
For a moment, neither said a word.
 

Galen was the first to break the silence, his voice thick with defeat.
 
“I shall take my leave, Catherine.
 
I must see to my men.”
 
He kissed her gently on her forehead.
 
“Until tonight.”
 
He backed away a step or two, his gaze lingering before he turned and walked a
way.

Chapter 25

Good
.
 
Eryn stood quietly inside the hallway listening.
 
Nobody is home
.
 
Bryce usually
was
gone, but unfortunately her new housemate rarely left and was fast becoming an obtrusive part of the décor.
 
It had only been a week and already it was too crowded with the three of them living in the big house.

Eryn bounded up the stairs two at a time thinking of what she would like to be doing.
 
Maybe I’ll soak in the tub.
 
Or maybe I’ll pull out that yoga DVD I picked up…
“Oh!”
 
She pulled up short just inside her bedroom door.
 
“Geez, you scared the hell out of me!”

Brandi lay flat on her stomach across Eryn’s bed with a bag of pretzels and a book open in front of her.

“I had no idea anybody was home.
 
Where’s your car?”
 
Eryn asked.

“Does Bryce know about this guy?”
 
Brandi continued to turn the pages, not bothering to look up.

Eryn’s heartbeat sped up again as she realized what Brandi was referring to.
 
With a few quick steps, she reached the bedside and ripped her journal from Brandi’s hands and slammed it shut.
 

“That’s
private
, damn it!”
 
Her jaw ached, she was biting down so hard.
 
“And it has nothing to do with Bryce.
 
It’s just a story idea I had.
 
There is no ‘guy’.”

Good one, Eryn
.
 
Eryn chided herself.
  
Never mind the fact that you’ve never written a thing in your life.

“Hey, it makes no difference to me if you’re seeing him or not.”
 
Brandi rolled over onto her side and leaned on her elbow.
 
“I can keep a secret.”

Brandi’s gaze completely unnerved Eryn.
 
She could be calculating and Eryn couldn’t risk having her get any ideas.
 
Casually, Eryn opened the journal and pretended to be reading her entries.
 
“Listen, like I said, it was an idea I had and I didn’t want anyone to know about it until I had something more substantial to show.”
 

On second thought, I could be a budding author.
 
Maybe it’s a hidden desire of mine.
 
Eryn smiled at her creativity.
 
Then, like the journal wasn’t a big deal anymore, she tossed it on a chair out of Brandi’s reach.
 

“So, what were you doing in my closet, Brandi?”
 
She kicked off her shoes and made for the closet to put them away, wanting to see for herself what else Brandi had gone through.

“I was going to borrow a dress for tonight.
 
There’s a party at The Slam.”

Eryn rolled her eyes.
 
A newly-opened nightclub, The Slam catered to a younger crowd, where money, music, and drugs blended seamlessly.
 
Oh yeah.
 
Perfect for Brandi.

“That sounds like fun.”
 
Eryn’s voice was calm and sounded interested, but inside she fumed.
 
She had kept her journal wrapped in a towel in her running bag that was tucked in the corner behind some bags of clothes headed for the thrift store.
 
Not typically the place one would look for a cocktail dress.
 
Everything had been pushed aside.
 
Brandi didn’t even care if she was discreet about it or not.

Eryn grabbed the first dress in her sight.
 
“How about this one?”
 
She held up an emerald green halter dress with a neckline that plunged to the navel.
 
Eryn hated that dress.

Brandi’s expression hadn’t changed, but Eryn pushed on.
 
“This is a great cut for you and the color would be fabulous against your skin.”
 
After another moment of no response, Eryn added, “You’d definitely turn heads.”

That seemed to snap Brandi out of wherever her thoughts were going.
 
Her vanity was too deeply embedded to ignore a comment like that.
 
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
 
She finally got off the bed, not caring that the bag of pretzels had overturned, spilling crumbs onto the bed cover.