Vision of Light [The Renegades 1] (29 page)

Lucien placed a hand on her back and directed her into his own seat while he remained standing behind her.

"I apologize for intruding.” Aislan tried to get back on her feet as she addressed Lucien. “I already had my breakfast. You are still having yours, milord."

The duchess looked at Aislan coldly, not at all warming up.

The countess clicked her tongue. “Dear Helena, must you intimidate the poor child to death? I know you are possessive of your son. I myself feel no woman is good enough for my two boys, but we have to let them go and let them choose their women."

The duchess’ face flushed, but not in embarrassment. Aislan could see the tight control she held on her temper. “Your Grace, I must beg your forgiveness.” Aislan made her amends. “My manners to you were unforgivable."

"Lady Aislan, ‘twas my fault,” Jaden interjected, and then turned to the duchess. “Auntie, you should scold me. I plied Lady Aislan with wine, and I should have known better. Please forgive
me
."

"Ah, Lady Aislan, how fortunate you are.” The duchess smiled thinly, her voice smooth and polite. “You seem to have acquired an admirer who defended you both quickly and nobly."

Aislan did not know how to answer. She reacted as she normally did to hostile authority—she felt her own temper rising. The duchess maintained her civility with some apparent effort also. Her face pulled into some semblance of politeness, but her eyes, the same silver color as Lucien's, were icy with dislike.

Lucien helped Aislan to her feet. “I must apologize for having to take my leave now. Please forgive me, Mother. Auntie. We will not see each other again, so I bid you all farewell. Come, milady.” He dragged Aislan away without further ado.

"Lucien!” The duchess got to her feet, but he kept going.

Once out on the path, Aislan had to ask, “What is wrong with your mother?"

"Do not talk about my mother.” Lucien put her in her place.

"I apologized to the best of my ability. What must I do to have her forgive me?"

"Nothing. Just leave it be. We shan't see her again."

"I said I was sorry."

"'Tis not you, Aislan."

Aislan calmed down. “You are no longer angry at me?"

"I was not angry at you about my mother. ‘Tis not your fault she is who she is."

His answer implied a bad standing with his mother. Considering her own avaricious family, Aislan wondered how unfortunate both she and Lucien could not rely on their immediate family. Then again, Lucien seemed to be on good terms with the countess and Lord Traver, so at least he had someone he could turn to.

"I am sorry I interrupted your breakfast,” she lamented.

"I was finished.” They reached Lilypad and went inside.

"You are dressed to travel,” she noted.

"In a manner of speaking. We cannot stay at Lilypad any longer."

Aislan perked up at the thought of leaving. “Where shall we go?"

"Unfortunately,” Lord Traver walked in through the door left open, startling Aislan, “not where ‘twill be a pleasant environment, milady,” he smiled at her regretfully, “but ‘tis necessary."

Lucien picked up Aislan's bag and stuffed her books and scribers in it. “Come along."

Lord Traver led the way back out the garden and through a different path. Aislan watched his steps. Hedges moved about. He parted one of the hedges and they squeezed through, then several more until they reached a tunnel. Aislan looked at Lucien questioningly, but he only shrugged. Lord Traver lit a torch. Eventually, they came to a door.

"'Tis Calvan,” Lord Traver said.

"We live here for a sennight?” Aislan asked, trying not to be dejected. Calvan turned out to be a cold and damp underground chamber. “Will you leave me here by myself while you spend your time in the sunlight?"

"Aislan, ‘tis the only place we are safe until the time comes for the metamorphosis,” Lucien said patiently.

"What will happen after that?"

"Have patience and wait it out. Once you have taken the potion, you will be able to move more freely."

She looked about the dismal environment. A table and two stools, a bed looking like a slab of rock that would barely fit the two of them, a tiny bedside nightstand, and a hearth with a cauldron for cooking.

"We leave here in a sennight,” she mumbled, assuring herself. She looked at Lucien and realized her selfishness. He did the best he could for her, considering their fugitive status. “Forgive me,” she said softly, resolving to stop thinking only about herself. The world involved many players, and she would learn to fit in. “Thank you for seeing to my safety."

His face relaxed. Seeing that she could alleviate his stress considerably by being more accommodating and gracious, Aislan resolved to adapt to everything and never complain again.

"I still owe you arithmetic lessons,” he offered.

"You are too kind,” she murmured, but she did not protest further because she wanted to learn more than anything else. They sat at the small table. Lucien overtook the entire room with his build and height, dwarfing the chair that barely fit him. His presence vibrated the air, and she wanted to inch a little closer so she could touch him. However, he was trying to teach her, so she had to behave for now. She still wanted to talk to him about their predicament with each other, but now did not seem to be the appropriate time.

Aislan adjusted the scarves at her shoulder and fingered the brooch. All of this dressing up was too much to present a façade so that others would think they had left. Feeling overdressed, she took off the brooch and put it on the table.

"I cannot accept such an expensive item. Please pass my thanks to Lord Traver for his kindness.” Taking off the scarves, she folded them neatly.

In the process of taking out her books from the bag, Lucien paused for one moment, and then continued unpacking, saying nothing. As the day progressed, she had learned to multiply and divide a succession of fractions. Eventually, he taught her how to calculate off the top of her head. After what seemed to be many hours later, Lucien sprang to his feet and went to the door. Lord Traver was walking down the tunnel. Aislan had heard nothing. Lord Traver came in, carrying two bags and a handful of books.

"Lucien requested some books for you. I picked a few, but I fear they may not be interesting. Jaden picked out a couple of the books. Just tell us what you like to read, and we will find something more to your liking."

"Lord Traver, you are too kind.” Aislan smiled gratefully.

"If I could, I would send a maid down to see to your comfort, milady,” Traver said regretfully. “However, no one except Jaden and I know about Calvan."

Aislan took the books he gave her, touching them reverently as she gave him a warm, grateful smile.

"You have been generous, Traver,” Lucien said. “'Tis no hardship here."

Aislan looked at the brooch on the table. Lucien glanced at it also, but he only walked Traver to the door. Once Traver had left, Aislan stared at him thoughtfully.

"Thank you,” she said softly. She touched the lapel of her vest and the neckline of her dress. “These are beautiful clothes."

He shrugged. “A maid selected them."

She looked at his mouth and was ready to go for a kiss when he turned abruptly from her. It would be difficult for him to keep resisting her while they lived in a little box they could barely move about. Joining him at the table, Aislan picked up the brooch, fussing deliberately as she re-fastened it on her vest. Meanwhile, she looked at Lucien coquettishly from under her lashes, smiling her appreciation. He sat so close to her, she reached over and touched his hand, her fingers caressing the warm, tanned skin. He had a very light sprinkle of hair at his wrist, and she played with it. Lucien pulled his hand away and frowned his disapproval. Aislan sighed and picked up the new books, leafing through them.

"Oh, how thoughtful of him!” she exclaimed, and then realized how she must sound. “I am a dolt. Lucien, darling, thank you for asking for these. You are wonderful, as always."

He frowned again at her endearment, as if she were misbehaving. Aislan rolled her eyes and grinned at him, but he did not look amused.

He unpacked the content of the bags Lord Traver brought, and Aislan leaned over to look. One bag held food such as cheese, bread, vegetables, fruit, dry herbs and spices. The other held changes of clothes and toilet items. She went back to her own goodies, a book on ailments and remedies, a book on chemistry, a book on philosophy, and two novels. Aislan picked up the one titled
Lady Mallory's Secret,
opened it to the first page, and began to read it aloud to show Lucien how good she had become under his tutelage.

After the two opening pages, Lucien could no longer listen to Aislan's reading of Lady Mallory's sexual escapades.

"I'll fetch water, so stay put,” he told her only so she did not take it in her head to go looking for him. Aislan stopped reading, then gave him a provocative little sigh and nodded.

Outside the door, Lucien lit the lantern that hung from a chain hooked overhead. He opened another door to the privy and checked for any rodents. Deeming it safe, he briefly informed Aislan, and she nodded before returning to her reading, her mouth moving silently as she pronounced each word under her breath.

A large barrel stood empty outside. Instead of picking up the two buckets, he lifted the entire water barrel and walked down the dark tunnel to the spring, located a short distance away in another part of the garden.

Traver had given him a brief explanation of the layout. Calvan was strategically located directly below Traver's laboratory. Entrances to various tunnels originated from the laboratory, hidden by elaborate mazes of plants and flowers. Only one circuitous path led to this underground chamber through the garden. The only other way out was to crawl up the fireplace to the chimney that rode to the main laboratory. This allowed a fire in the underground chamber while the smoke escaped up the laboratory's main chimney.

The small spring would provide an adequate source for water and bathing. Lucien filled up the barrel and carried it back to Calvan and into the chamber. Aislan lay on her stomach on the bed, reading. She looked startled when she saw the huge barrel he lugged in. Eventually, he would train her to apply enough power to lift the barrel herself, with water in it. He did not like the thought of Aislan being helpless ever again if she faced mere brute force.

Lucien set a pot in the hearth and made soup while Aislan continued reading, completely absorbed.

"'Tis interesting,” she said finally. “Lady Mallory's secret turned out to be that she is a sorceress who can enter dreams and manipulate men to do her wishes."

"Such power,” he agreed as he stirred the boiling soup.

"She is a wicked wench,” Aislan went on. “She uses her power to seduce men and learn all their secrets. She relays the information to her king, who is her secret lover because the queen is a jealous woman. What an active imagination this writer has!"

"Jaden will be flattered you think so."

Aislan gasped. “Surely you jest!” She looked at the name on the cover. “Lady Jennifer.” She laughed. “What a talented rascal. He wrote the entire book in metered verse."

Lucien had no interest in Jaden's talents. “Come eat your supper.” He placed the bread on her plate and sliced the cheese. She came to the table still reading.

Leave it to her to indulge her time reading about sexual escapades instead of more worthy pursuits like chemistry and philosophy. Had she even finished
Laws and Politics
or started on the sorcery dissent book? Lady Mallory would not help her if Aislan made it to the Court. Ladling the soup into her bowl, Lucien sat down to eat while she continued reading.

"Eat your meal."

Picking up the cheese, she nibbled it absently as she continued reading, glancing at him occasionally to comment on the story. “Lady Mallory is very naughty."

He grunted and ate his meal. “Eat your soup.” He tried not to be offended at her lack of interest in the meal he had taken his time to prepare for her. She could read any time, but her soup would turn cold soon, and he would not reheat it for her.

She glanced at him and realization dawned on her face. Her dark blue eyes sparkled in amusement. Closing the book, she put it aside and started eating earnestly, finishing his hard-earned effort down to the last spoonful.

"'Tis wonderful, my kind sir."

He grunted again, pleased she made an effort to down the concoction. He should not be too pathetically obvious about pleasing her, Lucien thought as he peeled an apple, quartered it, and cored it.

"Eat that, too."

"I ate all your delicious soup. I am full, Lucien!"

"You are thin like a stick. Eat."

Aislan touched her slim waist in a self-conscious manner. “I am too thin to be fashionable, am I not?"

What a merciless tease. “You are adequate.” He shrugged.

She bit her lower lip and cast her gaze to the table.

"Oh, by the saints, do I need to wax poetic about your beauty?” he snapped. All the lash batting, endearment, preening, and wiles got through. Lucien needed to have sex with the vixen so badly, his head began to throb from straining his control. He could not focus beyond his cock and the excruciating need for relief, but he could not touch her,
would
not touch her. He grasped at any thought that could get his rampant erection under control. What he felt probably showed on his face.

"Lucien.” She licked her lips.

Because he had to be the one to take the logical step, Lucien stormed out of Calvan.

Aislan woke the next morning and started reading the philosophy book. She ate a light meal of bread and cheese while she went through the book page by page, completely immersed in essays about knowledge and existence. By early afternoon, she was nearly finished when a passing definition caught her attention, but someone knocked at the door.

It certainly could not be Lucien. Putting the book aside, she went to answer the door and found Jaden standing there with a stack of books under one arm.