Wow. This story is almost finished. I'm thinking it's only going to be thirty chapters in total, and I want to try and get the last two up before I leave on the 24th.
Tiger Lily21: I've been waiting for it forever as well. They're so... yay! Now just to tie up some loose ends, and they'll be on their way to a happily ever after. Thanks for the explanation. I had forgotten about that particular tale. Oh, I can't just write one story at a time either. I just only post one story at a time. I have about twenty unfinished stories that I go back to once and a while, just to get over some writers block or whatever.
cathrin face: I'm not going to butcher the German language by trying to say you're welcome, but, you're welcome.
trillian225: I'm glad to have made your week. Good stuff aplenty.
livingdead2010: It's okay. I'm glad that you like it.
panemonium: No, your ears did not deceive you. ((le sigh)) Hopefully, it's explained a bit in the first part of this chapter. Warren's still out in Tolaro. He'll be back soon, I promise.
HolmesIsMyHomie: I'm glad to have put a smile on your face.
Glitterpoison: Thank you! Sweetness all around!
Aiden-Rae: I'm so glad that you like my story. It's perfectly okay that you don't write (although, I think anyone can write), editors are just as important as the writers themselves. Yay for fluff!
rebeka13: thanks.
little miss tiny shoes: I'm glad you enjoyed that. Writing it was actually harder than I thought it would be. Having little or no experience myself, I was trying to make it as natural as possible without making it graphic. Deep dark secret alert!
Akwyn: No problem. Thanks for the compliments. Jarrod is going to have to be honest with his proper wife. Poor Jarrod. He might need some liquid courage of his own.
letylyf: Thanks. I'm glad it fit in with the rest of the story. I hate it when I'm reading a good novel, but then they get to the love scenes and become little love-making atomitons, who don't act a thing like their original characters. Fie on them. I have a friend who was playing 'Fear Factor' at a church thingy, and he had to eat raw snails. I nearly puked just watching him. Ew.
MissaLissa: Woot! I got mad props! I'm glad the love scene sat well with you, I was actually very nervous about posting it. They are perfect for each other. That's why they're so in love. And Jarrod will admit it to her one of these days.
monkeys-and-bananas76: 'Kay. Will do.
cokefizz-and-chocolate: It's okay. I know you were waiting for it. (haha, just kidding. XcD) No, not the can of whoop! Here! Take this chapter! (And, if those are white chip macadamia nut cookies, fricken HAND EM OVER!)
Lady Keshanna of the Night: Well, at first he was afraid of getting his heart broken again, like when Belinda cheated on him. But now, it's more like he's afraid taht when Fiona finds out about his 'big secret', she'll reject him, and he doesn't want that pain.
wishingIcouldthinkofsomething: Here you go! Jarrod's big secret, although, personally, I don't think it's a big deal. But, it didn't happen to me, so. Haha, I actually read a little something like that in another book, (just the 'You're big' and 'man wants to hear' part) and I thought, I would want to take the guy down a couple of pegs and that just popped into my head. I tweaked it a little bit to make it more Fiona and less me, but I still think it fits.
Sirenic Griffin: Well, I can assure you that the next chapter (after this one) will be to your taste. Action romance galore. Or, if not galore, then at least apparent.
Drew: Thanks man. Was it awkward in writing, or awkward as in you'd never think anyone would say that ever? Oh, and how did the party go?
Glaze: Thanks. I'm glad that the love scene was good. Not too much foreshadowing, but lots of confessions and loving. Yay! My sister tried so hard not to cry while reading it, and afterwards, she had to phone one of her friends to talk it over, just to see if they could figure out what was coming next, and if S. really planned that, or if D. just told him to do it, and stuff.
iridescent mists: Inner demons make love interesting. My characters just seem to get more and more conflicted as I write more stories. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.
awaiting impatient person: I'm glad you love it! The world may never know. Jarrod's a bit of a secretive person. But Fiona'll beat it out of him one day.
Calliope Mused: Yeah, they were starting to get rather difficult, weren't they? I guess we should all be glad that Rachel tried once again to proposition Jarrod.
fatal fantasies: Thank you. I always have a bit of trouble with names, making them up and such.
Phillipa of the Phoenix: I'm glad you liked that. I like the fashion line, personally. More plot ahead, don't you worry! And, just for you to know, my next story is going to be based (extremely vaguely) off of 'The Little Mermaid.' I can't wait for it.
I have to go, but I really wanted to get this up! Only two more chapters to go!
See you next Saturday!
-Lulai
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Thorns
Jarrod watched his wife sleep. He almost didn't believe that she was his. It was obvious she wanted it, and even more obvious that she enjoyed it, even if only by the bruises he would certainly have on his shoulder blades. And there was no question at all that he enjoyed it.
But there was her declaration of love. Although it stirred his heart, he couldn't believe in it. She didn't know the deepest secret of his soul. And if she found that out, she couldn't love him. He knew. She wouldn't understand. She was goodness and light.
He would have to be honest with her.
The thought scared him to death. He couldn't stand to be seen as any less of a man in her eyes, but his conscience was telling him that he couldn't accept her love under any false pretences either.
He would tell her. And, if she wanted, he would let her go. He owed her that much. Hell, he loved her that much.
Fiona sighed in her sleep, shifting in his arms and tossing a leg over his. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of her hair. He would be selfish for this one night, and at least pretend that she could care for him, that he was worthy of her.
With that thought in mind, he rested his cheek against the top of her head and fell asleep.
…
Fiona was trying to finish a baby blanket for Bernadette's new daughter Evelyn, but her mind was a million places, and she kept mixing up her knits and pearls, and after picking out an entire row, realised she would have to go talk to Jarrod before she died of curiosity.
It was very strange. They hadn't argued at all; in fact, their morning together had been one of the best she had had. After getting dressed, the couple made their way out into the neat little patch of forest west of the castle. The forest was wet from the rain the night before, but it seemed to have let up for the morning, even if there was still a grey covering of clouds. Strolling the well-marked paths, they talked and teased each other, but Jarrod hadn't done anything… out of the proprieties.
Did he regret last night? She refused to believe that he had lost interest in her now that she had given herself to him, but did he think her too forward? Did he lump her in the same category as Rachel Fer Grenalda?
Whatever the reason, when she went to her court, he locked himself in his study and refused to see anyone, even his brother.
Tyrell ate dinner with her, but without Jarrod, she was acutely lonely. To make matters worse, Tyrell kept shooting her pitying glances, making her want to do nothing so much as bury her face in her mashed potatoes.
Fiona sighed and put her knitting down. She was probably going to have to go and beat some sense into that thick skull of her husband's. When was he going to realise that being married meant sharing one's problems?
She stood out of the white wicker chair. The sun was dying anyway, so there was no more real use for the solarium that night, as it was not equipped with torch brackets.
She straightened her emerald skirts, making sure that all the wrinkles were out, and adjusted the bodice before exiting the room.
Pausing right before her husband's door, she put a hand to her hair, and gave a small sly smile to herself before pulling out all the pins. She pulled the hair at her temples back from her face and tied them behind her with a ribbon she had attached to her wrist for just such a purpose. She wasn't about to seduce her husband, but after learning last night that he liked her hair down, she resolved to wear it like that more often. Giving the pins to a maid, she instructed her to put them in her room.
It was a new sensation for her to feel her hair around her shoulders, but the past little while had been one big new sensation, so it was no big deal. Except now she didn't even know if she was going to feel any of those sensations again. A frown marred her brow.
Taking a deep breath, Fiona burst into her husband's study without bothering to knock first.
Jarrod looked up from where he was hunched over his desk, scribbling notes on a particular treaty. His coat was off and his cravat untied, the first few buttons of his shirt undone. His hair looked quite tousled as if he had repeatedly run his fingers through it.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. He seemed generally confused.
For some reason, his question infuriated her. "What am I doing here?" she nearly shrieked, throwing her hands into the air. "Maybe it's because my husband has been holed up in here all afternoon, and most of the evening, and I had to eat dinner alone, well, maybe not alone, Tyrell was with me, but he kept giving me these looks, and I couldn't figure out why after such a… a… pleasant evening we had last night, you haven't even tried to do… anything, and I'm drowning in worry and self-consciousness, and I don't even know why!" She finally ran out of breath and had to stop. Propping one hand on her hip, she pressed a fist into her forehead, trying to control the pressure that was threatening to burst out her closed eyes.
Jarrod stood halfway through her tirade and had made his way over to her side.
"Was it something I did?" she whispered brokenly. "Was I too… forward?"
"God, no, Fiona," Jarrod said, taking her fingers in his, tugging her hands away from where they were resting. "Last night was perfect; you were perfect."
"Then what happened? Jarrod, I have to know." She looked up at him, her big blue-green eyes shiny with unshed tears.
He sighed and let go of her hands to rest a hip against the desk. In absence of his warm fingers, Fiona's hands grasped each other until her knuckles were white.
"Do remember anything at all from last night?" he said softly.
A bright blush flew into her cheeks, signalling that she remembered very well indeed. "Yes," she mumbled.
"After that," he said, with a wry smile.
"You asked me why I came to you," she said, still red. "I said I wanted to."
"After that."
Fiona frowned. She hadn't said anything after that. She had only thought…
Oh, god, what if she had spoken out loud? "That I loved you," she said softly.
He stiffened slightly, and Fiona could tell that she was correct.
"Yes," he said, his voice sounding weary.
"What's wrong with that? I do love you," Fiona repeated, determined to brazen it out, although inside her heart was breaking. He didn't love her, or else he wouldn't be so upset about her loving him.
"What's wrong with it is that I'm not the man you think you married." He put his hands beside him, gripping the edge of the desk.
"What?" Fiona asked, utterly puzzled. "I know exactly whom I married. You're kind, and thoughtful, and handsome, and caring, and a million other things that I love about you."
He shook his head, moving to stare out the window, crossing his arms over his chest. "I wish you wouldn't say that," he whispered.
"What?" Fiona's hands went back to her hips. "That I love you? Why? I do." She blinked back tears, determined not to cry.
He looked at her, his expression optimistically tender. "Because after I tell you what I've been dreading to tell you, you'll want to take it back… and I won't want to let you."
Hope blossomed in Fiona's chest until it almost restricted her breathing. He wanted her love, he just said as much. "Tell me what?" she asked softly, taking a step towards him, her arms dropping to her sides.
"You deserve to know the truth, the whole truth," he admitted, almost to himself.
This was it. The thorn in his heart.
"Then tell me," she whispered, taking another step towards him. She wanted to do nothing but take him in her arms and erase the pain in his eyes, but she knew that Jarrod wouldn't want to be coddled at a time like this.
He shook his head. "I'm afraid."
"Of what?" she whispered.
He looked her in the eyes and the sheer agony in there nearly broke Fiona's heart. "Of losing you."
She wanted to rush forward and say something comforting like You'll never lose me or I'll always love you, but she couldn't lie to him. "You might if you don't tell me," she stated quietly. It wasn't an ultimatum, just the truth.
He nodded softly, understanding, then turned back to the window as if the answers to all his problems lay somewhere on the other side of the glass. He was silent for so long, but Fiona didn't press him, knowing that he was gathering his courage.
"I told you about Belinda," he said abruptly, startling her. She nodded, even though his back was to her, and he probably couldn't see. "Well, I didn't tell you the entire truth. It's true, I was engaged to her, and I did catch her with another man in the stables, but it wasn't just any stableman. It was… my brother, Marcus."
"Oh my god," Fiona said, unable to stop the words from flying from her lips. Her hand came up to her mouth as she sunk down into one of the chairs in front of his desk. Marcus? Jarrod's idol? No wonder Jarrod was hurt so deeply. How much betrayal had he gone through?
He smiled, but there was no humour in it at all. "In a final twist of irony, we were at her townhouse celebrating our impending marriage. Apparently, the party wasn't entertaining enough for either of them. As I suddenly found it disparaging myself, and left to find better company… mostly from the bottom of a bottle."
Fiona nodded, clasping her hands in front of her. She didn't say anything for fear of interrupting the words that were flowing from her husband's mouth.
"If only I hadn't gone out, or had come back earlier, things might have been different, but in any case, by the time I came back, the entire house was in flames. Belinda was outside screaming, but none of my family had made it out. Let me tell you, nothing sobers you as much as the thought of your family in danger. I rushed in and managed to find Tyrell, knocked unconscious by a falling bookshelf. I carried him outside. Warren had managed to stumble out as well."
Here, he paused in his narration, and Fiona leaned forward slightly. So far, she hadn't found anything damning in his testimony. In fact, she was mostly in awe of his heroism. He had risked his own life to save his brother's.
"I turned back towards the house, but I… hesitated." His arms dropped and his hands fisted at his sides. "All I could think about," he continued harshly, "was how much Marcus had hurt me, and for a fleeting second, I considered leaving him in there. That second was all it took, for a moment later, the entire entrance way collapsed, and I couldn't find another way in."
Fiona bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears again. She couldn't imagine what kind of suffering her he had gone through. She lost her parents, yes, but to lose both her parents and her siblings? Horrible.
"And?" Fiona prodded gently when he didn't continue.
Jarrod's attention snapped from his memorisation of the landscape to her. "Didn't you hear what I said? I hesitated. If I hadn't, I might have been able to rescue Marcus. But, like the selfish bastard I am, I thought only of myself, how much pain and hurt and anger I felt, and I hesitated. I practically killed my family."
Fiona rose. "It was a natural reaction. Jarrod, you can't blame yourself. You were just betrayed by the two people who were supposed to be closest to you." She walked over to him. "And while I'm sorry that you lost your family, and believe me when I say I'm sorry, I can't help but feel a little glad that you hesitated."
Jarrod jerked back, surprise highlighting his features. "What?"
She stood before him, her eyes capturing his. "You said yourself that the entrance collapsed just a moment after you hesitated. Had you not, you would have been crushed, or at the very least, trapped, and then I wouldn't have met you."
He shook his head. "I would have found a way out," he protested stubbornly.
Fiona took his face in her hands, trying to make him understand. "If neither brother nor your father couldn't find a way out, what makes you so sure you could? You, Jarrod, are human. You make mistakes. You hurt. And, although you'd like to deny it, sometimes you are driven by emotion. No one could blame you for that. No one but yourself does."
He pulled her hands away from his face, but continued to hold on to them tightly.
"It doesn't matter. I still should have tried. The truth of the matter is that I killed my family as surely as if I shot them all myself."
"They were not killed," Fiona protested. "They died in a terrible accident. You are no more to blame than I am. Murder and accidental death are not equal."
"The results are the same, aren't they?" Jarrod said bitterly, dropping her hands and turning to the window. Even though the morning had looked promising, apparently, the clouds weren't finished. Rain pelted the windows in sheets.
"Then you have some more crimes on your hands," Fiona said matter-of-factly.
Jarrod turned to her, a question in his eyes.
"You raped me."
Fiona had never seen the blood drain from a person's face, but that was really the only way to describe the sudden blanching of Jarrod's. "What?"
She shrugged. "I'm no longer a virgin, and by your reasoning, that means you raped me, because rape and lovemaking have the same results, right?"
Relief swept his features before his face became an angry mask again. His eyes narrowed, and his arms came up to cross his chest.
"You're trying to banish my guilt with rhetoric. It won't work."
Fiona laid a hand on his arm and was surprised to feel how tense his muscles were. "I'm not trying to banish it. I'm merely trying to soften it. I'm trying to help you lighten your burden, to share it with me."
He took her hands again. "I'm not sure if I can."
"Just try," she said, squeezing his fingers. "I'll do whatever I can to help you."
"Why?" he whispered, searching her eyes for something. Censure, absolution, or maybe just a simple promise.
"Because you helped me," she said, putting every ounce of feeling she had in her eyes and her voice. "Because you believed in me when no one else did, even myself. Because you defended me to both my own family and to strangers. Because you're you. My husband, my Jarrod, my love."
He pulled her to him, and brought his mouth down on hers savagely.
"Let me help you," she said between kisses, tracing her fingers over his beloved features.
"Love me," he rasped in her ear, running his fingers through her hair, dislodging the ribbon. "Just love me."
She pulled his head down to hers. She did love him, there was no question about that.
But did he love her back?