"Lillian . . ."
Still, there was a limit to how much concern I needed to be honeyed with!
"Look, Aiden. Don't tell me that you're hurt. You're the one who asked me out here."
He stopped his horse, and I bit at my tongue before I tugged on the reins of my mare and turned to face him. Aiden sat very still on his horse, and I thought his eyes glistened as if touched lightly by dew. I sighed.
"I'm sorry, Aiden. Please, I'm sorry. I just . . . look, perhaps we should talk. Come over to these rocks with me, and we’ll let our horses graze as we sit and speak. Please?"
He tightened his jaw and gave a nod. I turned to ride to the stones, knowing he would want a moment to recover from my attack.
We took the bits from our horses' mouths and found perches on the stone. I deliberately took a seat where there was only room for one, so that he had to sit apart from me. I wanted to make everything very clear to him, and I knew what I had to say, what I had to do.
He sat, pensive, his shoulders slumped. He knew what was coming.
"Aiden,” I began, “I’ve told you before, and I say it now again, but this time I hope that you really listen. You have been wooing me for seven moons, nearly from the time you returned from Masalla. I know that I was responsive when first we met, but with the risk of being brutal I must admit that I was enchanted by your appearance, and since that time, having come to know you in all of your moods and seasons, I’ve realized that we are not meant to be in love."
"What is it?" Aiden spoke, his voice choked. "What is wrong with me?"
"No, Aiden! It’s not that I find any fault in you! It’s only that we do not blend and flow with each other's whims and loves. We simply aren't compatible."
"I don't believe that, Lillian. You know that I am approached by many women, and indeed I have accepted more than one dinner and even a ride or two. But I did such things only to appease you, to show you that I am not blinding myself to all but you."
"That’s the problem, Aiden. Don't you see? You're not going out with those girls for yourself or for them, but for me. How will you ever give anyone else a chance if your mind is elsewhere?"
"But I do give them my attention, Lillian. And all fail to engage it. They seem so petty, so slight, so coquettish. And then I see you, and I see a woman, full of intelligence and rich in spirit. You have a sense of honor, and you know what is important in life. You deserve to wear the name of Dinerre, no, let me say more; you are meant to wear it."
I put my head in my hands and took a deep breath. He was impossible to argue with!
"What can I say to you, Aiden? What will make you hear? Must I simply tell you that I don’t love you?"
He fell silent, staring back at me, and I could see him swallow hard, fighting back emotion. Then he looked down and to the side, and managed a little laugh.
"I suppose that has the desired effect, Lillian."
I looked to him, and could feel my heart melting at the sight of his pain. How many times had I been here, had I known the words I must only utter once to drive him away forever? But how could I ever do such a thing? He was in love with me, I knew, and he loved with all of his heart, in the best way that he knew. He had nothing to gain from marrying me, for I knew as well as anyone else that there were more beautiful women he could choose from just as easily. How could I hurt him so?
I stood and stepped over to him, then wrapped my arms about him as he sat, his eyes still cast down. He stiffened, looked up into my eyes, and then let himself sag into my embrace.
"Lillian . . ."
"Whisht, Aiden. I know, I know. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I have been so very cruel."
I felt him tremble against me, felt the moistness from his eyes touch my skin. "I’m sorry."
"No, Lillian." He spoke quietly, his breath warm over my breasts, and despite myself I felt a tingle move over my skin, raising my flesh in tiny prickles. I tried to focus on his words.
"It is I,” he said, “who should be sorry. You have told me many times that we will never wed, and just as many that you would be honored to hold me dear as your friend. My constant pursuit must make you feel as if your friendship were nothing to me, but only a trifle which I meant to replace with something greater. But I know that you care deeply, and that your caring is no mean thing that you strew about for the benefit it will reap you."
He looked up into my eyes, and I could hardly believe the words which came to my ears.
"Give me another chance, Lillian? I beg it of you. Let me be only . . . let me be your friend." He gave a sob and buried his head upon my bosom, and I held him close, stroking his hair and speaking soft words. For a long while I held him there, and felt my heart like a caged bird, fragile wings fluttering against the cold bars of its prison