The curse of Kalaan (19 page)

BOOK: The curse of Kalaan
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Kalaan understood her well. He had mourned his father for so long, his grief made worse by the fact that he held himself responsible for his death. But why hadn’t Virginie started healing?

“You...”

“Could we speak about something else?” she interrupted. Then looking at his gloved hands, Virginie asked:

“Did you injure yourself, in addition to your problems with your eyes?”

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, dumbfounded before breaking into laughter.

This was one of the aspects he found so attractive with the young marchioness. Behind her charming mask was a wildcat showing her claws to hide her own wounds. He wouldn’t have been more amused had she asked if had bladder problems.

“It’s nothing, really.” Kalaan spoke reassuringly and crossed his legs swinging a booted foot in a movement of complete relaxation. “The desert sun is extremely harsh on sensitive skins such as ours.”

Yes, he was indeed comfortable in the young woman’s company. He had never felt as well as at that moment and he did not want the magic to end. Only an hour earlier, after what happened with the druid, he had felt lost and broken. But now, thanks to Virginie, that feeling was gone. He was much happier in her presence as a man, than as the
thing
.
Speaking of which…

“I believe you’ve met my cousin Catherine?”

“Yes, I have. She’s a charming young woman.”

Kalaan almost choked and uncrossing his legs he leaned forward towards Virginie, his elbows on his knees.

“Charming? Catherine?”

“Yes, that is what I just said.” Virginie blushed slightly, a detail Kalaan did not miss. “She is very cultured and told me a very nice legend. It is sad that she grew up surrounded by big oafs… uh… sorry, I meant to say…”

Kalaan broke into a warm, enthralling laugh and Virginie felt herself melting.

“No need to apologize. You are most likely correct.”

He was quiet for moment, hypnotized by the color of the young woman’s eyes. The flames gave an almost supernatural brilliance to their gray-blue color. There was something happening between them. Kalaan had already felt this when they were in the broken circle, hand in hand at the edge of the cliff. At that moment he felt they were united as one and were invulnerable. Whenever they were together, Kalaan felt that nothing bad could happen.

Worried about where his ruminations could lead him, his face darkened and he tried to shake off his strange thoughts. Virginie was of absolutely no help, biting her raspberry pink heart shaped lips that way.

Kalaan sat up, unconsciously, most likely with the intention of tasting the voluptuous fruit presented to him. But Virginie was faster and quickly took shelter by sitting as far back as possible in her chair as if the table between them wasn’t enough of an obstacle. She needed more distance between them.
Heavens! Did he want to kiss me?
She wondered, her heart pounding in her chest again.

“I... I.. ‘tis very late and... I...” stammering, again, Virginie put her hand in front of her mouth as if to hide a yawn. “I wish you a good night.”

She quickly retreated, but when she arrived at the door, she turned around before opening it, only to find herself with her nose in the count’s ruffle shirt, his entrancing musky fragrance penetrating her nostrils. He was standing far too close!

“Sweet dreams,” he murmured leaning towards her, his sweet breath caressing her cheek as he spoke, his eyes never leaving her lips.

“Yes, of course!” she replied as she moved quickly towards the hall and ran up the stairs to her room, locking the door behind her.

Did I really say ‘Yes, of course?’
she asked herself hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand
. What a halfwit I am!
He was going to kiss her, Virginie was sure of it! She had dreamed of this for so many years, and when the moment finally came she left him high and dry, running away like a frightened little mouse.

Without Gwendoline to help her, it took Virginie an eternity to undo her gown and, even longer, the corset, tied at the back. She then washed her face, brushed and braided her hair, and went to bed hoping that sleep would quickly take her in its arms. But it was not to be…

She tossed and turned under the bedcovers, sometimes even lying across the bed. She could not seem to find a comfortable position. Too much fatigue and too many emotions kept sleep at bay.

As dawn began to arrive, it timidly lit Virginie’s room slowly, and gently. She grumpily pulled herself out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and walked over to stand at the window.

A tall shape, moving quickly in the park, caught her attention. Curious, yet not wishing to be seen, she hid behind the curtains to spy on the person, now approaching the castle walls.

It was Catherine, wearing the same men’s clothes as the day before, and her jet-black hair flowing down her back. But where could she be coming from so early in the morning? She raised her eyes towards the window of the room next door as if judging its height. The next minute the wildcat was climbing the wall with impressive agility, making good use of the cracks between the stones.

Virginie, whose nose was right against the window, lost sight of her so she quietly opened her window leaning out just in time to see Catherine pull herself into the next room, her booted legs disappearing in a wink of an eye.

She hadn’t spent the night in the castle! The young cousin was truly a mystery. Who had she been with? Virginie realized that the whole scene greatly annoyed her. In fact, she was feeling something very similar to jealousy. But why? After all, Catherine had the right to do as she pleased, with whom she pleased!

This was one more event to add to the long list of all the others now preoccupying the young woman and poisoning her existence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

A pleasant outing

 

 

            
 
H
ow can you possibly feel alone in a castle with the hustle and bustle of the personnel moving back into their quarters? Well, one way would be to have a late breakfast after a restless night.

This is what happened with Virginie by her own fault, she had to admit. She didn’t think she would be able to get to sleep after seeing Catherine climb back into her room; but she did, and it was a very deep sleep.

Just as she was getting ready to leave the table, Clovis, the ever-devoted butler, pulled out her chair for her.

“Thank you, Clovis.”

“At your service, Mademoiselle,” he replied, bowing his head respectfully. Virginie smiled at him.

Before leaving the dining room she went over to the tall windows and gazed out at the clear blue sky above the beautiful countryside. It was a perfect day for an invigorating winter walk.

Holding her breath, she asked, as she did every morning, if there were any letters for her; Clovis replied, as he had every morning for the past few weeks, if not since Virginie’s arrival on the isle, that no, there was nothing for her in the post. His reply left her quite distraught and she felt she really had to get some fresh air. On her way out a footman helped her with her coat and gloves, but kept her beribboned bonnet, which she decided not to wear. Once outside, she briskly walked towards the park.

When Virginie reached the edge of the park, where the walled paths began, she heard the pounding of hooves and the crunch of gravel behind her. Turning around, what she saw gave her a fright. She was standing face to face with a... monster and a dashing high-spirited Catherine, on its back.

Virginie’s first thought was that Catherine was laughing at her fear, an attitude to be expected of a lawless wildcat. And what in heaven’s name was she riding? The young woman had seen horses before, but this thing with flaring nostrils snorting and blowing hot air into her face, was nothing like them. This beast was positively deviant!

“What… is that thing you are riding?” she asked, taking out a handkerchief to wipe her cheeks.

“A Breton horse and his name is Tulip!” Catherine exclaimed, sitting proudly on the beast’s broad back.

“I know it’s a horse, and I know it’s Breton, because we’re in Brittany. What I meant to ask was how did he come to be so… so… deformed, the poor creature?”

“’Tis the breed — Breton horse!” Catherine said laughing. She gave Tulip a little nudge with her heels so he would turn his flanks to be side by side with Virginie. “He’s not a mutant, nor ill. He’s just young and loves to gallop, although most of his breed is used for working the fields.”

Virginie’s eyes widened when she saw the size of the animal’s rump, which was just as big as his chest and… the rest of him. Her astonishment grew when she realized that Catherine was bareback and that her thighs were spread wide on each side of the horse’s back. Despite her unusual position, Kalaan’s cousin remained as charismatic as ever.

“Are you coming?” she asked, leaning down holding out her left hand to Virginie, who gasped and took a step back. Her? Virginie? Riding that beast? Just the type of hair brained idea Catherine would have!

“Oh… no, thank you! That is…um... I’m not wearing my riding clothes,” Virginie stammered, trying to hide her fear from Catherine who was watching her with amusement.

She couldn’t admit it to the proud lady buccaneer, but she was terrified of horses and always had been. If normal horses frightened her, then imagine the effect Tulip had on her, Tulip was anything but a normal horse!

With a little legwork from his rider, Tulip moved closer to Virginie, who, a second later found herself lifted into the air. Catherine had leaned over and grabbed her by the waist, placing the young woman, with surprising ease, in front of her on Tulip’s back.

The young marchioness let out a cry of fear and surprise at finding herself so suddenly on the horse’s back. But she soon forgot her fear as she wondered where Catherine’s strength came from. She was as strong as a man, with solid muscles, as Virginie soon discovered gripping her arms as Tulip galloped happily along the paths, his heavy caramel colored mane flying in the wind.

Much to Virginie’s surprise, despite Tulip’s size, he was as graceful and light in his movements as an Arabian and soon, her fear completely evaporated, leaving a sweet feeling of euphoria in its place.

She felt freer than she ever had before. Her hair, now undone and flowing freely down her shoulders, danced in rhythm to the horse’s gallop. Her velvet skirt, lifted by the wind, revealed her boots and white petticoats and sometimes even her legs in their silk stockings, but Virginie did not care in the least. She laughed with Catherine who had a protective arm wrapped around her waist while holding the reins in the other hand. As they rode towards the forest, the two women were one with the elements, entranced by the magnificent green landscape, untouched by the winter.

Catherine soon slowed the horse down, bringing him to a walk and he whinnied in protest.

“This is the first time I’ve been in this part of the isle!” Virginie exclaimed.

Catherine could hear the joy in her voice. They left the walled path and took a track rarely taken if they judged by all the bracken that clung to their legs.

“So, you see? It’s good that you came with me,” Catherine’s silvery voice murmured in her ear.

A shiver ran through Virginie’s body taking her breath away, and she stiffened. The bliss of the moment faded when she began fighting the emotions and contradicting feelings that were resurfacing. What she was feeling was wrong. It felt like she had a physical attraction for… Catherine.

A woman cannot love another in that way!
Virginie repeated to herself. Her back stiffened and she sat up straight so as to not touch her friend anymore.

“Is something wrong?” Catherine, noticing Virginie’s change in attitude was worried.

“No, nothing!” Virginie replied, a little too quickly. “Where are we? Where are we going?”

Catherine sighed heavily, but the young marchioness made a point of not turning to look at her. She didn’t want Catherine to see her distress.

“We’ve just left the farm land, and now, at my cousin Kalaan’s request, we are going to inspect the forest. He would like to know if the woods were damaged by the storm.”

“And he sent you?” Virginie was so surprised that she turned her head and looked Catherine in the eyes.

She is so beautiful!
Virginie quickly turned back, embarrassed by her inappropriate and unwholesome observation.

“Of course! He knows he can count on me, just as well as with a man.” Catherine laughed out loud.

If only that were the case. If only you were a man
, Virginie thought with a sigh. For then at least, she would understand her attraction.

As they neared the edge of the forest, something unexpected caught her eye. It was a row of six miniature sheds with flat roofs.

“Oh! I had no idea there were beehives here!” Virginie exclaimed, delighted. But behind her, she felt Catherine stiffen.

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