**************************
CO. CORK, IRELAND
CLONAKILTY
BYRONY ESTATE
1847: Byrony's House Garden
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Meaghan closed her eyes against the bright morning sun as if by
doing so the light that illuminated her thoughts would be blocked as
well. It wasn't. She took a wearied breath. The breeze played
about her hair lifting stray strands across her face and tickling her
skin. She wished that were the only thing she was feeling but it
wasn't .
Jesus, Mary and Joseph but it wasn't.
It all seemed so simple, so easy to do. Just say the words and let
the pieces of her life fall into place as they would. But the puzzle
didn't fall into the picture she'd envisioned, not at all.
**************************
CO. CORK, IRELAND
CLONAKILTY
BYRONY ESTATE
1847: Yesterday at Dusk
***************************
She'd tell Evan of her feelings soon. That was what she'd
promised herself. But soon was easily said, not easily done.
Time had collected into days, weeks and then months, two months to
be exact and still she had not dared to utter the weight that pressed
against her soul. Many times she tried, floundered, then
snapped her mouth closed in embarrassment, which then quickly
turned to anger - her most vigilant and constant companion.
Meaghan gave a wearied sigh. She was tired, tired of repressing
her emotions yet afraid to utter them.
Meaghan stood in the upper gallery, looking down onto the marbled
floor of Byrony's foyer. It was dusk and the room had a vacant,
shadowed quality. It was the time of day right before the oil wicks
were lit. The ambience of the room seemed to fit her mood. She felt
isolated and... isolated and lonely.
To say that things were not going well between Evan and herself
would be the grandest understatement of all time. Everyday that
past by created more and more tension between them.
Meaghan struggled to get a hold of herself but every time she felt
that she had succeeded, one comment, one remark from him would
send her over the cliff. It wasn't just her either. It couldn't be.
Evan was deliberately provoking her, there was no doubt in her
mind. He'd told her that she had to get control of her emotions, of
her anger. Well, he wasn't helping any, that was for certain.
The one that seemed to suffer the most was Catherine, at least that's
how it seemed to her. Meaghan felt that she couldn't discuss Evan with
Catherine and she knew that her friend must be feeling closed off. But she
couldn't help it, she could barely think on Evan, let alone talk with
another person about him.
"Meaghan," Catherine called to her, coming from the west wing into
the gallery. She had heard Catherine coming toward her -one of many
little tricks that Evan had taught her. Listening, identifying steps of the
people you knew so that you could differentiate between the ones
that you didn't. That ability could very well save my life according
to Evan.
Meaghan turned around and faced Catherine. The older woman was
ringing her hands in front of herself.
'Please Lord, tell me that I not be doin' that ta her,' Meaghan
thought to herself as she watched Catherine approach her with
slowed, cautious steps - but she was. The Lord wasn't kind enough
to lie to her and she didn't expect it.
Meaghan rushed her steps over to Catherine clasping her hands as
she took in her friend's worried countenance. "How are yea,
Catherine."
Meaghan squeezed her hands and felt a returning pressure.
"I be fine, lass. Just worried about yea tis all,' Catherine said, smiling
up at Meaghan," Yea've been standin' in this gallery for so very long.
It's time for dinner and I thought I'd be comin' ta fetch yea."
"Dinner? I'm not hungry," Meaghan answered. She felt like she
couldn't eat anything, that her stomach was barred with a million
knots closing it up nice and tightly.
" Yea've got to eat somethin'. Yea need to be keepin' up yea're
strength, what with how Mr. Evan keeps working you out in the
meadow."
Meaghan turned a quick look to Catherine. "Yea know about that?"
Catherine chuckled. "Well it would be hard not knowin' about that.
Liam told me about yea work with Mr. Evan, though why he would want
you to learn goes beyond me faculities. I do hear that yea have
become quite good, or so Liam tells it."
"Does he now," Meaghan replied, thinking on the warning that Evan
had bestowed upon the boy. Well, the lad was a lad after all. It
was amazing that Evan never spotted him again. He seems to know
everything that happens around him. Meaghan smiled,
apparently he *didn't* know everything.
"I still have no stomach for food Catherine, " Meaghan replied, and
no stomach for facing Evan across the table, no matter that others
would be there.
"Yea can't avoid him forever," Catherine said, her voice soft as she
laid a hand upon Meaghan's forearm.
"What was that?" Meaghan asked, staring in shock.
"Don't yea think I be knowin' what is goin' on under this roof? Not
even a blind person could miss it." Catherine said, rubbing
Meaghan's arm as if to soften the revelation.
"I have no id..." Meaghan halted her words as tears streamed down
her cheek.
"Catherine," she cried, falling against the woman. Catherine was a
soft cushion of warmth as Meaghan spoke against her shoulder.
"What am I ever to be doin' about this mess?"
"I imagine the same thing that he should be doin'… Telling yea how
yea feel about one another." Catherine whispered in Meaghan's ear.
"What," Meaghan asked, pulling away from Catherine, " What are yea
sayin' ta me?"
"Yea two have been at odds with each other far too long a time and
yea both have the same reason for it," Catherine said, brushing
Meaghan's black strands from her face. She whispered," I haven't
lived this long to not know what I see goin' on right before
me eyes."
Meaghan smiled and wondered again just how old Evan was. Age
was becoming something of an arbitrary issue.
"Yea don't believe me?" Catherine asked, studyin' her.
"It's not that I don't believe yea, more that I can't believe yea. Evan…
he… well, he is a man of the world and what am I, someone he
helped in a time of need. I am nothing ta him, nothing but a poor
Irish lass who had the good fortune to happen upon a kind man
durin' me most troubled time."
"Nonsense," Catherine scoffed, gripping the sides of Meaghan's
arms. " I don't want to be hearin' such talk from yea again. Yea are
more than that, much more. Can't yea see? Don't yea know? Hmm... I
suppose not. Lord knows that yea've reason ta miss it. Listen ta me.
Yea're a beautiful, educated and kind lass. Yes, Mr. Evan helped you,
all right. But he's a gentleman as I've said before."
Catherine paused to make sure Meaghan was listening. " But Meaghan,
he doesn't look upon yea with the remote eyes of one who is better than
yea. No, 'tis something more to it than that, and yea can call me a fool or
light in me stitches, but I know what I be knowin'. Mr. Evan and yea
are in the same pond. It's high time yea both realize that before yea
say or do too many things that yea might regret."
Catherine cupped her soft, wrinkled hands against Meaghan's cheeks,
staring into her eyes, her tone serious. "I've heard the arguments,
the silences that seem to get longer and longer between yea two. What
man would stay in such a situation when he has the freedom to do as
he pleases. What seems to please him is staying at Byrony, staying
with yea.
As quickly as Meaghan's hopes rose, they dashed against Catherine's
following words. 'Please him to be stayin' here?', not quite the truth.
Evan seems to feel this unrelenting sense of duty to make her the
best she can be with this immortal game. Duty, not love, that was
what kept him there. Meaghan knew that.
Yet there was this little part of her that clung to Catherine's words,
that needled her and wouldn't let go. Was it wishful thinking?
Lord, she desperately hoped not. Maybe Catherine was right.
Maybe the time had come to end this feuding once and for all. She
didn't think she could stand it much longer. Something had to give
and soon. Meaghan decided to take her fate into her own hands,
hoping for the best yet dreading the worst. It was time to face
things head on… she couldn't, wouldn't, allow things to go unsaid
any longer.
"Thank yea Catherine, yea've given me quite a bit to think on,"
Meaghan said, smiling a bittersweet smile, "I'll be in me room."
"All right Lass, that's it then, think upon what I tell yea," Catherine said,
stepping back and letting go of Meaghan. She watched as Catherine
descended down the steps and walked out of view, making her way into
the kitchen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Meaghan lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, though not really seeing
anything but her thoughts. So, perhaps Catherine was right, at least
in one respect. She couldn't take much more confrontation with
Evan. It was nigh pushing her off the edge.
The fighting wasn't just because of her. She knew that. Catherine had
pretty much confirmed that Meaghan wasn't out of her mind. Evan had
been deliberately going to the trouble of provoking her.
She couldn't count the many times her temper escaped over something
he'd said or did. What infuriated her most was that as easy as it was
for him to set off her ire, she couldn't seem to garner any response
from him. She wanted to demand the reason for his sudden change
of attitude. It couldn't be what Catherine'd suggested, no.
Things between Evan and her were getting more and more agitated.
Her temper was becoming volatile, though she held it in check while
sparring with Evan. She'd learned that lesson early on.
It was funny. She was more in control of herself then she'd ever
been and yet more out of control at the same time. She had tried to
make sense of that paradox, but the answer seemed unattainable.
Barely a civil word passed between them these days. The only time
they talked to each other was when they had to.
Evan. She could feel him distancing himself.
Then it hit her.
Was it almost time for her training to end? Had she become a
nuisance to him now? Or did he know how she felt about
him ? Was he pushing her away, saving her the embarrassment of
revelation? No. He wouldn't, would he?
Yet, those reasons seemed more feasible to her than what Catherine
said.
So, would he do those things? She didn't know. But that was the thing, she
didn't know him, not really. She knew the person he presented to
her but for some reason she also knew that it wasn't him, not totally.
It was that little part of him that still reached out to her while the
rest remained shuttered against anything else - the one part that
kept him from being Shelly's monster.
Yet that one part of him wasn't enough anymore. The atmosphere
in Byrony was laden with tension and whether it stemmed from just
her or from both of them, it mixed between them. She couldn't take
it anymore. She'd been at Byrony for well over a year and a half,
trained for almost that long. She was a good swordsman. How
many times had she come close to beating the man who was "older
than most"… more than a few. She seemed to have a natural
instinct with the sword, which made her wonder if all immortals had
the same success as she. She hoped not, self-preservation guided
her sentiment.
She was determined. She was leaving Byrony. The prospect thrilled
and petrified her at the same time but she wouldn't run from what
she had to do. It was time to leave, hadn't Evan made it abundantly
clear? Meaghan felt like she'd been struck and she fell upon a chair,
dazed.
That was it, wasn't it? It was time for her to go but he wouldn't be
the first to initiate it. Evan had said over and over again, with more
frequency than at other times, that he wouldn't be her teacher forever.
It wasn't how the game was played. The student had to strike out on his
or her own eventually. She had to leave.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph!
It was all clear now, all clear. Meaghan felt sick to her stomach as
the full realization wrapped itself around her conscience. She
jumped off her bed and ran over to the chamber pot, dry- heaving.
Of course she wouldn't be throwing up anything. She'd barely been
eating lately. Her stomach felt like someone had gone to the
trouble of tightening the intricate knots composed of her innards. She
wiped a bit of spittle from the corner of her mouth and stumbled away
from the chamber pot. She stood in the middle of her room staring at
nothing. The truth of Evan's actions continued to batter against her
thoughts. She couldn't say how long she'd stayed frozen in thought,
but when she broke free a fired determination lit, underscoring her
actions.
Anger, her dearest weapon, was now sharpened and ready to
attack. How dare he! Meaghan stormed out of her room and
searched out the house looking for Evan. She went to the library,
the kitchen and even his room.. . he wasn't there. She stormed
back into the kitchen, still he wasn't in there, but Catherine was.
"What is it Lass?" Catherine asked, as Meaghan stood stock still,
smoldering in angered energy.
"Have yea seen Evan?" Meaghan asked without looking at Catherine.
Meaghan never wanted to lash out at Catherine but she knew she
inevitably would if she didn't find Evan and soon.
"He's in the garden," Catherine answered. Meaghan released a
heavy breath and turned her attention upon Catherine. "Thank yea
and ….. and I be so sorry, it won't be the way...," Meaghan paused,
giving an exasperated growl," I'm just sorry."
"Sorry?" Catherine asked as Meaghan near flew out of the kitchen.
Catherine called to Meaghan's retreating figure." Sorry for what?"
Meaghan burst into the fading sunlight, a small fireball herself as she
stormed through the garden searching out Evan. She felt his "buzz"
as she got closer to the English Maze.
'He would go in there, wouldn't he?" Meaghan growled entering the
shrubbery.
"Evan!" Meaghan called. There was no disguising her anger. It
punctuated every syllable of his name.
No response. This only lent more fury to the flames. She tore
through the maze searching, but she continuously hit dead ends.
Meaghan growled in frustration. Finally the maze released her into
the center garden where Evan sat upon one of the marble benches,
eating an apple.
"I wondered when you would find me," Evan remarked, keeping his
casual sprawl across his resting spot, tossing the apple core over
the wall of shrubbery.
"Did ya now?" Meaghan scathed. She came to stand before him,
glaring.
Evan began to speak but Meaghan cut him off.
"Don't! Don't yea dare talk ta me!" Meaghan growled. Then laughed a
hard, deep chuckle that near tore her heart apart. "I am on ta yea
now. I know yea're game. I can take a hint. Us Kineallys aren't
stupid, yea know."
Meaghan paced back and forth before him. "Well, I be here to save
yea the trouble, I am leavin' Byrony. Yea've made yea point
abundantly clear. I don't be knowin' why I was so daft about it fer so
long."
"Is that so?" Evan replied.
Meaghan turned to him and yelled. "Yes , that be SO!!"
She just stared at him. He had sat up, giving her his full attention,
but not much else. There was no clue to how her words affected
him. He showed no joy, no relief and no sorrow. Damn him!
Yes, in her heart of hearts she'd hoped to be wrong but it apparently
wasn't the way of it. There was no disappointment reflected on his
clear features. He gave no measured response to her words.
Meaghan let out a growl of frustration then fell to her knees before
him, leaning her head against her knees and rocking to and fro.
She began to sob uncontrollably, her anger, confusion and love
twisting the knot in her stomach tighter and wrenching the tears
from her eyes.
The touch upon her shoulder didn't register at first. She was
sheathed in her pain so completely that she felt and heard nothing
outside of her own anguish. The pressure increased upon her
shoulder, sliding down her back. Meaghan leaped up, twisting
away from Evan.
"Don't yea touch me!" Meaghan cried, reaching into the folds of her
dress and unsheathing her sword. She wiped at her face with her
free hand, sniffig back the tears as she stared at Evan.
She'd glimpsed pity then nothing else as he schooled his features
once again. "I won't be havin' none of yea're pity. Yea've made your
point, I'm ready. I will leave here and yea… and never will yea have to
see me face again."
Meaghan's tears had stopped and she felt cold inside, perhaps even
a bit dead.
"Is this what you want?" Evan asked, standing up before her and
slowly crossing the distance she'd put between them. She suddenly
got the irrational fear of being stalked down like prey but he had
come to stand at the tip of her sword. The metal pressing against
his green vest.
"It not be matterin' what I want, does it," Meaghan asked. She did
not lower her sword and she did not back away from him.
Here was the man that she loved and it hurt. God almighty it hurt
but good. What was the use caring?
'Everything and everyone I hold dear gets ripped away from me in
some shape or form.' She thought. How many times did she have
to be taught that lesson? Suddenly she knew with absolute
certainty what she was.
It wasn't Evan who had become Shelly's monster, but herself. No,
Evan wasn't her Dr. Frankenstein, immortality was and she felt
removed. Her prayers had not been answered. She was incased
in the frozen tundra of beaten emotions. She had no will to fight
against it, not anymore.
She would, she could, deal with this condition. Hadn't she been
doing that since the work houses? So she was granted a slight
reprieve, a hoax that tricked her into thinking that life and love
was possible. She knew now. She'd learned.
"Before you go…" Evan began then whipped his sword out and
crashed it against her own. Meaghan didn't expect that, but then
she'd become accustomed to expecting the unexpected. She
quickly fell back and spun around with the force of Evan's blow,
cutting and aiming for him as she recovered from the parry.
Meaghan swung and hit air. She felt a slice across her back and spun
around again facing him. She did not attack him with anger, but
cool, deliberate concentration. She knew this was the game. If he
chose to battle her, then she couldn't stop that. What she knew was
that she didn't go through all the trouble of training, recovering - only
to die in the end. No, she would not give up her head. She would
fight 'til the very last moment when God decided it was time to end
her suffering.
She swung again, but each time she did, the only thing that she cut
was the air. It began to frustrate her, but still she retained her
focus. Suddenly Evan was upon her, swinging and thrusting, cutting
beyond her guard and nicking her arms, legs and stomach. She
tried desperately to protect her neck. She was afraid, this wasn't
how it was supposed to end, not *her* life.
Whereas before she could land a hit, many a hit, now she had no
chance. He was a storm of blurred movement as she tried to keep
up with him.
Meaghan's control was slipping. Her arms ached; her whole body
ached. She wasn't healing as fast as she was being cut. The smell
of blood and grass filled her nostrils as she parried and parried and
parried. It was never enough. Finally she froze.
Cold steel rested against her neck. Meaghan dropped her weapon to
the matted grass. She gulped against the chilled metal.
This was it. She would not beg to live. She would die with dignity,
what little she had left. She was a Kineally after all, and dignity
was all she had left.
"Do it," Meaghan whispered, choking back her tears. Her eyes
streamed with water and she couldn't see anything now but blurred
colors and lights. The back of her head rested upon her neck as her
chin reached for the amber colored sky, the clouds streaking across its
surface.
The blade was still present against her skin. The metal was beginning
to warm. Meaghan's breathing was heavy, labored.
"Just DO IT!" Meaghan screamed, her spirit broken, along with her
heart.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!" Evan screamed, pushing her
away. Meaghan fell to the ground on her hands and knees. She heard his
sword land against the marble bench, where he had thrown it. She sat up.
"You!" Evan snarled and stalked back over to Meaghan. Now she was his
prey as he came toward her. Meaghan crab walked backwards to get
away from him but there was no getting away. "Why? Why after all this
time do the Fates send me you? I was content as I was!"
Evan pulled her from the ground and then shook Meaghan within his
grasp, clutching her arms.
"Stop it," Meaghan cried, trying to pull away, her head dizzying. Evan
pulled her closer against him instead.
"Do you know how long it has been since I have let anyone into my
life? No, of course not, how could you?" Evan said, releasing her
and stepping to the edge of the clearing, staring at the bush before
him.
"I'll leave," Meaghan whispered, defeated, beaten in body and soul.
"Will you? " Evan said, his voice icy. " And how do you suppose you
will survive? Hmm? I'll ask you again. Do you want to leave?"
Meaghan didn't face him and she didn't answer him.
"Do you?" Evan asked, stepping toward her again. Meaghan could
hear his boots cutting through the grass as he approached her. She
was trapped, unable to not answer. "What do you want Meaghan? What
do you want of me?"
"I…" Meaghan stammered. She was swung around, embraced within
Evan's arms but his eyes did not look down upon her with kindness.
They were cold, hard, and shuttered.
"What do you want?" Evan asked, whispering in a hard tone. There
were not even two inches between them. "Tell me!"
"I want yea!" Meaghan declared then reached up and kissed his lips
She kissed his cheeks his nose, his eyes. She kissed his lips again.
"I want yea, I love yea. God, Evan, yea know that. Yea know it! I
love yea."
"I love yea," Meaghan repeated over and over again as she kissed
him, clasping the sides of his face within her hands. Still he
remained immobile, his body hard against her.
"You don't love me," He whispered. Meaghan pulled back from him
and looked into his eyes. He was afraid. She knew it with complete
certainty. She knew it because it was her own fear that she found
reflected within his hazel orbs. Like calling to like. It seemed that
despite himself, his emotions had taken control.
The inscrutable mask had slipped away and there was anguished
longing reflected in his eyes, his tone, his everything. It was that
same piece of him that had reached out for her those many times
before, only now it took control of him. She hadn't been imagining
it. It was there, stronger then ever before.
"Oh, but I do, I love yea very, very much," Meaghan whispered and
reached up to kiss his lips again. This time they weren't hard and
unresponsive.
He kissed her and she him, with such tenderness and suppressed
longing that Meaghan collapsed her body against him. He crushed
her to him, lifting her off the ground as their kiss deepened. She
opened her mouth under his onslaught, for he began to take over
and kiss her with such passion, such demand that she was unable to
do anything but respond.
She clasped the sides of his face, his hair, clutching at him. The
need to validate what was happening gripped her. She couldn't
believe it. She ran her hands over his muscled chest and felt his
heart beating irrationally fast. Finally, his mouth was upon hers, his
lips pressed against her own. It wasn't a dream, a fantasy. His
tongue probed and tangled with her own.
"Evan," she gasped.
Suddenly Evan pushed her away. She fell back with such force that
she hit the ground.
"No!" Evan declared, his voice cracked, holding a hand out to keep
her away.
"What?" Meaghan asked confused as she got to her feet again. She
walked back over to him, reaching. "What is it?"
"No," he said again, freezing her motion. She looked at him and saw
that the protective shield was in place, if only barely.
"Evan, I love yea." Meaghan said, getting to her feet. The moon
had risen and the chirping of the birds and insects had faded with the
last dregs of dusk. Her heart plummeted within her chest. The
beating was erratic and she fought for control of her rampaging
emotions.
"You don't love me," Evan said, staring at her, the moonlight clearly
bathing his face. "You don't even know who I am."
"'Tis a lie!" Meaghan said, hardening her tone as she took a step closer. " I
do be knowing who yea are."
"You have no idea," Evan said, not moving. "No idea," he repeated
in a whisper.
"Don't I, Evan Adams?" Meaghan said, hardening her tone to match
him. This was a fight, a fight that she knew she may not win.
"Aren't yea the man who took me in? Aren't yea the man who
cared for me? And aren't yea the same man who taught me what
I was and how ta get about in the world? Wasn't that yea?"
"Anyone of us would have done that," Evan answered, tossing her
argument away.
"I don't think so. As yea 've said many a times, we live to fight a
game. How many times have yea told me that it mattered not what
sex I was, how good I was or how old I was - other immortals would
come for me. Try to take me head. How many times? Yea could
have killed me when yea found me, but yea didn't. Then yea went one
better, yea not only trained me sword arm, but yea trained me mind.
No where did I hear in yea set of rules that yea been telling me about -
no where did I hear, 'and thou shall educate thy student.'
"That's not love, that's gratitude you feel." Evan answered.
"Oh , Aye, 'tis gratitude to be sure. I be mighty grateful for yea
attentions… but that is not the only feeling I be capable of. I love
yea. There is no one explanation. I love yea fer who yea are."
"Again, you don't know me, not at all." Evan said, crossing his arms
and watching her.
"I think yea don't know yea self." Meaghan responded, closing the
distance between them. " Yea don't , do yea?"
Meaghan walked over to him, clasping his folded arms within her
hands. Evan didn't turn his gaze down, but stared over her head as
if she wasn't there at all.
"You don't know me. The things I have done…" Evan caught himself
and looked down upon her. Meaghan met his eyes.
"The things that yea've done? It makes no matter now. I know the
man yea are today, not what yea were on your many yesterdays.
Today is what counts, don't yea see that. Me Ma, she used to tell me
that yea can't change the past and that who you were then is only a
shadow of who yea are today. A part, not the whole."
"Your mother is a wise woman?" Evan asked.
"Me Ma 'was' a wise woman, " Meaghan corrected. "And her
wisdom and her love carry me through the hard times that I have
gone through. I have many shadows that follow me. But they
aren't who I am now, only a part of who I am."
"So eloquently put," Evan said, pulling from her. Meaghan watched
him as he backed away. "But she did not have eternity to collect
shadows. I do and they seem to have over powered me with their
unrelenting weight."
Meaghan listened. This was the man who stayed hidden most times.
This was the man who wanted so desperately to be loved. This was
the man who was filled with fear. She knew him, no matter what he
said, she knew him. She didn't have to have lived forever to know,
to understand. She just did.
And the same way that she knew him, she knew what he would say
and it crushed her heart. But she wouldn't give up, not yet.
"I love yea." Meaghan said again, softly, letting it float through the air
to reach him, to embrace him in the truth of her feelings.
"You can't, " Evan said, picking up his sword from beneath the
bench. "it's merely gratitude, nothing more.. you'll come to realize
that"
"It's not me that needs to realize anything," Meaghan said, her voice
choked with emotion as she watched him straighten his clothes. She
looked down at her own ripped and bloodied outfit, smiling faintly.
"Sorry," Evan said. Meaghan looked up.
"I'm not, " Meaghan said. "It has been intolerable between us. Yea
know that, I know that. I can only tell yea how I feel. I can't make yea
say the same things or stop yea from denying me. I do know that. But I
hope yea realize the truth of me words. I hope - that's all I can do."
Meaghan stood before him again, reaching a hand to his face. She
felt him turn his cheek into her palm. She reached up to kiss his lips
and he moved to meet her awaiting mouth but stopped, pulling
away. "No, I… I have to go to town. I… goodbye."
Evan walked out of the garden and back into the maze, moving so
rapidly that in no time at all, she felt him slip further away, out of
her sensing range.
Meaghan walked over to the bench and collapsed upon it. She was
exhausted. She fought one of the hardest fights of her life and the
outcome was something that wouldn't be known, not yet. Perhaps
what he needed was time. If he had to get away then that was
what he had to do. He didn't deny his feelings for her, and she
knew he felt them. That kiss earlier said it clearer then any words
could. She would wait. They had all the time in the world, didn't
they?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
CO. CORK, IRELAND
CLONAKILTY
BYRONY ESTATE
1847: Byrony's House Garden
***************************
Meaghan closed her eyes against the bright morning sun as if by
doing so the light that illuminated her thoughts would be blocked as
well. It wasn't. She took a wearied breath. The breeze played
about her hair lifting stray strands across her face and tickling her
skin. She wished that were the only thing she was feeling but it
wasn't .
Jesus, Mary and Joseph but it wasn't.
It all seemed so simple, so easy to do. Just say the words and let
the pieces of her life fall into place as they would. But the puzzle
didn't fall into the picture she'd envisioned, not at all.
**************************
CO. CORK, IRELAND
CLONAKILTY
BYRONY ESTATE
1847: Yesterday at Dusk
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She'd tell Evan of her feelings soon. That was what she'd
promised herself. But soon was easily said, not easily done.
Time had collected into days, weeks and then months, two months to
be exact and still she had not dared to utter the weight that pressed
against her soul. Many times she tried, floundered, then
snapped her mouth closed in embarrassment, which then quickly
turned to anger - her most vigilant and constant companion.
Meaghan gave a wearied sigh. She was tired, tired of repressing
her emotions yet afraid to utter them.
Meaghan stood in the upper gallery, looking down onto the marbled
floor of Byrony's foyer. It was dusk and the room had a vacant,
shadowed quality. It was the time of day right before the oil wicks
were lit. The ambience of the room seemed to fit her mood. She felt
isolated and... isolated and lonely.
To say that things were not going well between Evan and herself
would be the grandest understatement of all time. Everyday that
past by created more and more tension between them.
Meaghan struggled to get a hold of herself but every time she felt
that she had succeeded, one comment, one remark from him would
send her over the cliff. It wasn't just her either. It couldn't be.
Evan was deliberately provoking her, there was no doubt in her
mind. He'd told her that she had to get control of her emotions, of
her anger. Well, he wasn't helping any, that was for certain.
The one that seemed to suffer the most was Catherine, at least that's
how it seemed to her. Meaghan felt that she couldn't discuss Evan with
Catherine and she knew that her friend must be feeling closed off. But she
couldn't help it, she could barely think on Evan, let alone talk with
another person about him.
"Meaghan," Catherine called to her, coming from the west wing into
the gallery. She had heard Catherine coming toward her -one of many
little tricks that Evan had taught her. Listening, identifying steps of the
people you knew so that you could differentiate between the ones
that you didn't. That ability could very well save my life according
to Evan.
Meaghan turned around and faced Catherine. The older woman was
ringing her hands in front of herself.
'Please Lord, tell me that I not be doin' that ta her,' Meaghan
thought to herself as she watched Catherine approach her with
slowed, cautious steps - but she was. The Lord wasn't kind enough
to lie to her and she didn't expect it.
Meaghan rushed her steps over to Catherine clasping her hands as
she took in her friend's worried countenance. "How are yea,
Catherine."
Meaghan squeezed her hands and felt a returning pressure.
"I be fine, lass. Just worried about yea tis all,' Catherine said, smiling
up at Meaghan," Yea've been standin' in this gallery for so very long.
It's time for dinner and I thought I'd be comin' ta fetch yea."
"Dinner? I'm not hungry," Meaghan answered. She felt like she
couldn't eat anything, that her stomach was barred with a million
knots closing it up nice and tightly.
" Yea've got to eat somethin'. Yea need to be keepin' up yea're
strength, what with how Mr. Evan keeps working you out in the
meadow."
Meaghan turned a quick look to Catherine. "Yea know about that?"
Catherine chuckled. "Well it would be hard not knowin' about that.
Liam told me about yea work with Mr. Evan, though why he would want
you to learn goes beyond me faculities. I do hear that yea have
become quite good, or so Liam tells it."
"Does he now," Meaghan replied, thinking on the warning that Evan
had bestowed upon the boy. Well, the lad was a lad after all. It
was amazing that Evan never spotted him again. He seems to know
everything that happens around him. Meaghan smiled,
apparently he *didn't* know everything.
"I still have no stomach for food Catherine, " Meaghan replied, and
no stomach for facing Evan across the table, no matter that others
would be there.
"Yea can't avoid him forever," Catherine said, her voice soft as she
laid a hand upon Meaghan's forearm.
"What was that?" Meaghan asked, staring in shock.
"Don't yea think I be knowin' what is goin' on under this roof? Not
even a blind person could miss it." Catherine said, rubbing
Meaghan's arm as if to soften the revelation.
"I have no id..." Meaghan halted her words as tears streamed down
her cheek.
"Catherine," she cried, falling against the woman. Catherine was a
soft cushion of warmth as Meaghan spoke against her shoulder.
"What am I ever to be doin' about this mess?"
"I imagine the same thing that he should be doin'… Telling yea how
yea feel about one another." Catherine whispered in Meaghan's ear.
"What," Meaghan asked, pulling away from Catherine, " What are yea
sayin' ta me?"
"Yea two have been at odds with each other far too long a time and
yea both have the same reason for it," Catherine said, brushing
Meaghan's black strands from her face. She whispered," I haven't
lived this long to not know what I see goin' on right before
me eyes."
Meaghan smiled and wondered again just how old Evan was. Age
was becoming something of an arbitrary issue.
"Yea don't believe me?" Catherine asked, studyin' her.
"It's not that I don't believe yea, more that I can't believe yea. Evan…
he… well, he is a man of the world and what am I, someone he
helped in a time of need. I am nothing ta him, nothing but a poor
Irish lass who had the good fortune to happen upon a kind man
durin' me most troubled time."
"Nonsense," Catherine scoffed, gripping the sides of Meaghan's
arms. " I don't want to be hearin' such talk from yea again. Yea are
more than that, much more. Can't yea see? Don't yea know? Hmm... I
suppose not. Lord knows that yea've reason ta miss it. Listen ta me.
Yea're a beautiful, educated and kind lass. Yes, Mr. Evan helped you,
all right. But he's a gentleman as I've said before."
Catherine paused to make sure Meaghan was listening. " But Meaghan,
he doesn't look upon yea with the remote eyes of one who is better than
yea. No, 'tis something more to it than that, and yea can call me a fool or
light in me stitches, but I know what I be knowin'. Mr. Evan and yea
are in the same pond. It's high time yea both realize that before yea
say or do too many things that yea might regret."
Catherine cupped her soft, wrinkled hands against Meaghan's cheeks,
staring into her eyes, her tone serious. "I've heard the arguments,
the silences that seem to get longer and longer between yea two. What
man would stay in such a situation when he has the freedom to do as
he pleases. What seems to please him is staying at Byrony, staying
with yea.
As quickly as Meaghan's hopes rose, they dashed against Catherine's
following words. 'Please him to be stayin' here?', not quite the truth.
Evan seems to feel this unrelenting sense of duty to make her the
best she can be with this immortal game. Duty, not love, that was
what kept him there. Meaghan knew that.
Yet there was this little part of her that clung to Catherine's words,
that needled her and wouldn't let go. Was it wishful thinking?
Lord, she desperately hoped not. Maybe Catherine was right.
Maybe the time had come to end this feuding once and for all. She
didn't think she could stand it much longer. Something had to give
and soon. Meaghan decided to take her fate into her own hands,
hoping for the best yet dreading the worst. It was time to face
things head on… she couldn't, wouldn't, allow things to go unsaid
any longer.
"Thank yea Catherine, yea've given me quite a bit to think on,"
Meaghan said, smiling a bittersweet smile, "I'll be in me room."
"All right Lass, that's it then, think upon what I tell yea," Catherine said,
stepping back and letting go of Meaghan. She watched as Catherine
descended down the steps and walked out of view, making her way into
the kitchen.
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Meaghan lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, though not really seeing
anything but her thoughts. So, perhaps Catherine was right, at least
in one respect. She couldn't take much more confrontation with
Evan. It was nigh pushing her off the edge.
The fighting wasn't just because of her. She knew that. Catherine had
pretty much confirmed that Meaghan wasn't out of her mind. Evan had
been deliberately going to the trouble of provoking her.
She couldn't count the many times her temper escaped over something
he'd said or did. What infuriated her most was that as easy as it was
for him to set off her ire, she couldn't seem to garner any response
from him. She wanted to demand the reason for his sudden change
of attitude. It couldn't be what Catherine'd suggested, no.
Things between Evan and her were getting more and more agitated.
Her temper was becoming volatile, though she held it in check while
sparring with Evan. She'd learned that lesson early on.
It was funny. She was more in control of herself then she'd ever
been and yet more out of control at the same time. She had tried to
make sense of that paradox, but the answer seemed unattainable.
Barely a civil word passed between them these days. The only time
they talked to each other was when they had to.
Evan. She could feel him distancing himself.
Then it hit her.
Was it almost time for her training to end? Had she become a
nuisance to him now? Or did he know how she felt about
him ? Was he pushing her away, saving her the embarrassment of
revelation? No. He wouldn't, would he?
Yet, those reasons seemed more feasible to her than what Catherine
said.
So, would he do those things? She didn't know. But that was the thing, she
didn't know him, not really. She knew the person he presented to
her but for some reason she also knew that it wasn't him, not totally.
It was that little part of him that still reached out to her while the
rest remained shuttered against anything else - the one part that
kept him from being Shelly's monster.
Yet that one part of him wasn't enough anymore. The atmosphere
in Byrony was laden with tension and whether it stemmed from just
her or from both of them, it mixed between them. She couldn't take
it anymore. She'd been at Byrony for well over a year and a half,
trained for almost that long. She was a good swordsman. How
many times had she come close to beating the man who was "older
than most"… more than a few. She seemed to have a natural
instinct with the sword, which made her wonder if all immortals had
the same success as she. She hoped not, self-preservation guided
her sentiment.
She was determined. She was leaving Byrony. The prospect thrilled
and petrified her at the same time but she wouldn't run from what
she had to do. It was time to leave, hadn't Evan made it abundantly
clear? Meaghan felt like she'd been struck and she fell upon a chair,
dazed.
That was it, wasn't it? It was time for her to go but he wouldn't be
the first to initiate it. Evan had said over and over again, with more
frequency than at other times, that he wouldn't be her teacher forever.
It wasn't how the game was played. The student had to strike out on his
or her own eventually. She had to leave.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph!
It was all clear now, all clear. Meaghan felt sick to her stomach as
the full realization wrapped itself around her conscience. She
jumped off her bed and ran over to the chamber pot, dry- heaving.
Of course she wouldn't be throwing up anything. She'd barely been
eating lately. Her stomach felt like someone had gone to the
trouble of tightening the intricate knots composed of her innards. She
wiped a bit of spittle from the corner of her mouth and stumbled away
from the chamber pot. She stood in the middle of her room staring at
nothing. The truth of Evan's actions continued to batter against her
thoughts. She couldn't say how long she'd stayed frozen in thought,
but when she broke free a fired determination lit, underscoring her
actions.
Anger, her dearest weapon, was now sharpened and ready to
attack. How dare he! Meaghan stormed out of her room and
searched out the house looking for Evan. She went to the library,
the kitchen and even his room.. . he wasn't there. She stormed
back into the kitchen, still he wasn't in there, but Catherine was.
"What is it Lass?" Catherine asked, as Meaghan stood stock still,
smoldering in angered energy.
"Have yea seen Evan?" Meaghan asked without looking at Catherine.
Meaghan never wanted to lash out at Catherine but she knew she
inevitably would if she didn't find Evan and soon.
"He's in the garden," Catherine answered. Meaghan released a
heavy breath and turned her attention upon Catherine. "Thank yea
and ….. and I be so sorry, it won't be the way...," Meaghan paused,
giving an exasperated growl," I'm just sorry."
"Sorry?" Catherine asked as Meaghan near flew out of the kitchen.
Catherine called to Meaghan's retreating figure." Sorry for what?"
Meaghan burst into the fading sunlight, a small fireball herself as she
stormed through the garden searching out Evan. She felt his "buzz"
as she got closer to the English Maze.
'He would go in there, wouldn't he?" Meaghan growled entering the
shrubbery.
"Evan!" Meaghan called. There was no disguising her anger. It
punctuated every syllable of his name.
No response. This only lent more fury to the flames. She tore
through the maze searching, but she continuously hit dead ends.
Meaghan growled in frustration. Finally the maze released her into
the center garden where Evan sat upon one of the marble benches,
eating an apple.
"I wondered when you would find me," Evan remarked, keeping his
casual sprawl across his resting spot, tossing the apple core over
the wall of shrubbery.
"Did ya now?" Meaghan scathed. She came to stand before him,
glaring.
Evan began to speak but Meaghan cut him off.
"Don't! Don't yea dare talk ta me!" Meaghan growled. Then laughed a
hard, deep chuckle that near tore her heart apart. "I am on ta yea
now. I know yea're game. I can take a hint. Us Kineallys aren't
stupid, yea know."
Meaghan paced back and forth before him. "Well, I be here to save
yea the trouble, I am leavin' Byrony. Yea've made yea point
abundantly clear. I don't be knowin' why I was so daft about it fer so
long."
"Is that so?" Evan replied.
Meaghan turned to him and yelled. "Yes , that be SO!!"
She just stared at him. He had sat up, giving her his full attention,
but not much else. There was no clue to how her words affected
him. He showed no joy, no relief and no sorrow. Damn him!
Yes, in her heart of hearts she'd hoped to be wrong but it apparently
wasn't the way of it. There was no disappointment reflected on his
clear features. He gave no measured response to her words.
Meaghan let out a growl of frustration then fell to her knees before
him, leaning her head against her knees and rocking to and fro.
She began to sob uncontrollably, her anger, confusion and love
twisting the knot in her stomach tighter and wrenching the tears
from her eyes.
The touch upon her shoulder didn't register at first. She was
sheathed in her pain so completely that she felt and heard nothing
outside of her own anguish. The pressure increased upon her
shoulder, sliding down her back. Meaghan leaped up, twisting
away from Evan.
"Don't yea touch me!" Meaghan cried, reaching into the folds of her
dress and unsheathing her sword. She wiped at her face with her
free hand, sniffig back the tears as she stared at Evan.
She'd glimpsed pity then nothing else as he schooled his features
once again. "I won't be havin' none of yea're pity. Yea've made your
point, I'm ready. I will leave here and yea… and never will yea have to
see me face again."
Meaghan's tears had stopped and she felt cold inside, perhaps even
a bit dead.
"Is this what you want?" Evan asked, standing up before her and
slowly crossing the distance she'd put between them. She suddenly
got the irrational fear of being stalked down like prey but he had
come to stand at the tip of her sword. The metal pressing against
his green vest.
"It not be matterin' what I want, does it," Meaghan asked. She did
not lower her sword and she did not back away from him.
Here was the man that she loved and it hurt. God almighty it hurt
but good. What was the use caring?
'Everything and everyone I hold dear gets ripped away from me in
some shape or form.' She thought. How many times did she have
to be taught that lesson? Suddenly she knew with absolute
certainty what she was.
It wasn't Evan who had become Shelly's monster, but herself. No,
Evan wasn't her Dr. Frankenstein, immortality was and she felt
removed. Her prayers had not been answered. She was incased
in the frozen tundra of beaten emotions. She had no will to fight
against it, not anymore.
She would, she could, deal with this condition. Hadn't she been
doing that since the work houses? So she was granted a slight
reprieve, a hoax that tricked her into thinking that life and love
was possible. She knew now. She'd learned.
"Before you go…" Evan began then whipped his sword out and
crashed it against her own. Meaghan didn't expect that, but then
she'd become accustomed to expecting the unexpected. She
quickly fell back and spun around with the force of Evan's blow,
cutting and aiming for him as she recovered from the parry.
Meaghan swung and hit air. She felt a slice across her back and spun
around again facing him. She did not attack him with anger, but
cool, deliberate concentration. She knew this was the game. If he
chose to battle her, then she couldn't stop that. What she knew was
that she didn't go through all the trouble of training, recovering - only
to die in the end. No, she would not give up her head. She would
fight 'til the very last moment when God decided it was time to end
her suffering.
She swung again, but each time she did, the only thing that she cut
was the air. It began to frustrate her, but still she retained her
focus. Suddenly Evan was upon her, swinging and thrusting, cutting
beyond her guard and nicking her arms, legs and stomach. She
tried desperately to protect her neck. She was afraid, this wasn't
how it was supposed to end, not *her* life.
Whereas before she could land a hit, many a hit, now she had no
chance. He was a storm of blurred movement as she tried to keep
up with him.
Meaghan's control was slipping. Her arms ached; her whole body
ached. She wasn't healing as fast as she was being cut. The smell
of blood and grass filled her nostrils as she parried and parried and
parried. It was never enough. Finally she froze.
Cold steel rested against her neck. Meaghan dropped her weapon to
the matted grass. She gulped against the chilled metal.
This was it. She would not beg to live. She would die with dignity,
what little she had left. She was a Kineally after all, and dignity
was all she had left.
"Do it," Meaghan whispered, choking back her tears. Her eyes
streamed with water and she couldn't see anything now but blurred
colors and lights. The back of her head rested upon her neck as her
chin reached for the amber colored sky, the clouds streaking across its
surface.
The blade was still present against her skin. The metal was beginning
to warm. Meaghan's breathing was heavy, labored.
"Just DO IT!" Meaghan screamed, her spirit broken, along with her
heart.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!" Evan screamed, pushing her
away. Meaghan fell to the ground on her hands and knees. She heard his
sword land against the marble bench, where he had thrown it. She sat up.
"You!" Evan snarled and stalked back over to Meaghan. Now she was his
prey as he came toward her. Meaghan crab walked backwards to get
away from him but there was no getting away. "Why? Why after all this
time do the Fates send me you? I was content as I was!"
Evan pulled her from the ground and then shook Meaghan within his
grasp, clutching her arms.
"Stop it," Meaghan cried, trying to pull away, her head dizzying. Evan
pulled her closer against him instead.
"Do you know how long it has been since I have let anyone into my
life? No, of course not, how could you?" Evan said, releasing her
and stepping to the edge of the clearing, staring at the bush before
him.
"I'll leave," Meaghan whispered, defeated, beaten in body and soul.
"Will you? " Evan said, his voice icy. " And how do you suppose you
will survive? Hmm? I'll ask you again. Do you want to leave?"
Meaghan didn't face him and she didn't answer him.
"Do you?" Evan asked, stepping toward her again. Meaghan could
hear his boots cutting through the grass as he approached her. She
was trapped, unable to not answer. "What do you want Meaghan? What
do you want of me?"
"I…" Meaghan stammered. She was swung around, embraced within
Evan's arms but his eyes did not look down upon her with kindness.
They were cold, hard, and shuttered.
"What do you want?" Evan asked, whispering in a hard tone. There
were not even two inches between them. "Tell me!"
"I want yea!" Meaghan declared then reached up and kissed his lips
She kissed his cheeks his nose, his eyes. She kissed his lips again.
"I want yea, I love yea. God, Evan, yea know that. Yea know it! I
love yea."
"I love yea," Meaghan repeated over and over again as she kissed
him, clasping the sides of his face within her hands. Still he
remained immobile, his body hard against her.
"You don't love me," He whispered. Meaghan pulled back from him
and looked into his eyes. He was afraid. She knew it with complete
certainty. She knew it because it was her own fear that she found
reflected within his hazel orbs. Like calling to like. It seemed that
despite himself, his emotions had taken control.
The inscrutable mask had slipped away and there was anguished
longing reflected in his eyes, his tone, his everything. It was that
same piece of him that had reached out for her those many times
before, only now it took control of him. She hadn't been imagining
it. It was there, stronger then ever before.
"Oh, but I do, I love yea very, very much," Meaghan whispered and
reached up to kiss his lips again. This time they weren't hard and
unresponsive.
He kissed her and she him, with such tenderness and suppressed
longing that Meaghan collapsed her body against him. He crushed
her to him, lifting her off the ground as their kiss deepened. She
opened her mouth under his onslaught, for he began to take over
and kiss her with such passion, such demand that she was unable to
do anything but respond.
She clasped the sides of his face, his hair, clutching at him. The
need to validate what was happening gripped her. She couldn't
believe it. She ran her hands over his muscled chest and felt his
heart beating irrationally fast. Finally, his mouth was upon hers, his
lips pressed against her own. It wasn't a dream, a fantasy. His
tongue probed and tangled with her own.
"Evan," she gasped.
Suddenly Evan pushed her away. She fell back with such force that
she hit the ground.
"No!" Evan declared, his voice cracked, holding a hand out to keep
her away.
"What?" Meaghan asked confused as she got to her feet again. She
walked back over to him, reaching. "What is it?"
"No," he said again, freezing her motion. She looked at him and saw
that the protective shield was in place, if only barely.
"Evan, I love yea." Meaghan said, getting to her feet. The moon
had risen and the chirping of the birds and insects had faded with the
last dregs of dusk. Her heart plummeted within her chest. The
beating was erratic and she fought for control of her rampaging
emotions.
"You don't love me," Evan said, staring at her, the moonlight clearly
bathing his face. "You don't even know who I am."
"'Tis a lie!" Meaghan said, hardening her tone as she took a step closer. " I
do be knowing who yea are."
"You have no idea," Evan said, not moving. "No idea," he repeated
in a whisper.
"Don't I, Evan Adams?" Meaghan said, hardening her tone to match
him. This was a fight, a fight that she knew she may not win.
"Aren't yea the man who took me in? Aren't yea the man who
cared for me? And aren't yea the same man who taught me what
I was and how ta get about in the world? Wasn't that yea?"
"Anyone of us would have done that," Evan answered, tossing her
argument away.
"I don't think so. As yea 've said many a times, we live to fight a
game. How many times have yea told me that it mattered not what
sex I was, how good I was or how old I was - other immortals would
come for me. Try to take me head. How many times? Yea could
have killed me when yea found me, but yea didn't. Then yea went one
better, yea not only trained me sword arm, but yea trained me mind.
No where did I hear in yea set of rules that yea been telling me about -
no where did I hear, 'and thou shall educate thy student.'
"That's not love, that's gratitude you feel." Evan answered.
"Oh , Aye, 'tis gratitude to be sure. I be mighty grateful for yea
attentions… but that is not the only feeling I be capable of. I love
yea. There is no one explanation. I love yea fer who yea are."
"Again, you don't know me, not at all." Evan said, crossing his arms
and watching her.
"I think yea don't know yea self." Meaghan responded, closing the
distance between them. " Yea don't , do yea?"
Meaghan walked over to him, clasping his folded arms within her
hands. Evan didn't turn his gaze down, but stared over her head as
if she wasn't there at all.
"You don't know me. The things I have done…" Evan caught himself
and looked down upon her. Meaghan met his eyes.
"The things that yea've done? It makes no matter now. I know the
man yea are today, not what yea were on your many yesterdays.
Today is what counts, don't yea see that. Me Ma, she used to tell me
that yea can't change the past and that who you were then is only a
shadow of who yea are today. A part, not the whole."
"Your mother is a wise woman?" Evan asked.
"Me Ma 'was' a wise woman, " Meaghan corrected. "And her
wisdom and her love carry me through the hard times that I have
gone through. I have many shadows that follow me. But they
aren't who I am now, only a part of who I am."
"So eloquently put," Evan said, pulling from her. Meaghan watched
him as he backed away. "But she did not have eternity to collect
shadows. I do and they seem to have over powered me with their
unrelenting weight."
Meaghan listened. This was the man who stayed hidden most times.
This was the man who wanted so desperately to be loved. This was
the man who was filled with fear. She knew him, no matter what he
said, she knew him. She didn't have to have lived forever to know,
to understand. She just did.
And the same way that she knew him, she knew what he would say
and it crushed her heart. But she wouldn't give up, not yet.
"I love yea." Meaghan said again, softly, letting it float through the air
to reach him, to embrace him in the truth of her feelings.
"You can't, " Evan said, picking up his sword from beneath the
bench. "it's merely gratitude, nothing more.. you'll come to realize
that"
"It's not me that needs to realize anything," Meaghan said, her voice
choked with emotion as she watched him straighten his clothes. She
looked down at her own ripped and bloodied outfit, smiling faintly.
"Sorry," Evan said. Meaghan looked up.
"I'm not, " Meaghan said. "It has been intolerable between us. Yea
know that, I know that. I can only tell yea how I feel. I can't make yea
say the same things or stop yea from denying me. I do know that. But I
hope yea realize the truth of me words. I hope - that's all I can do."
Meaghan stood before him again, reaching a hand to his face. She
felt him turn his cheek into her palm. She reached up to kiss his lips
and he moved to meet her awaiting mouth but stopped, pulling
away. "No, I… I have to go to town. I… goodbye."
Evan walked out of the garden and back into the maze, moving so
rapidly that in no time at all, she felt him slip further away, out of
her sensing range.
Meaghan walked over to the bench and collapsed upon it. She was
exhausted. She fought one of the hardest fights of her life and the
outcome was something that wouldn't be known, not yet. Perhaps
what he needed was time. If he had to get away then that was
what he had to do. He didn't deny his feelings for her, and she
knew he felt them. That kiss earlier said it clearer then any words
could. She would wait. They had all the time in the world, didn't
they?
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