Chapter Eight
Aithne
Lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, I was restless. The events of the day kept churning around in my mind, and I couldn't get comfortable no matter how hard I tossed and turned. There was a pressure dwelling within my chest—an incessant need to see Hadrian that I couldn't quiet.
Throwing caution to the wind, I quickly dressed and crept through the house. I had never snuck out after dark before, but it was as if I was possessed by a rebellious spirit and my actions were not my own. I didn't know where I was going—only that somewhere out there was Hadrian and I wouldn't rest until I heard his voice.
Softly I closed the door behind me and ran toward the village. It felt as though the heavens were aiding me as the glow from the moon and stars helped guide my path. Everything about me was still with most of the homes darkened as people retired to bed. I was careful to make as little noise as possible, not wanting to awaken anyone and be escorted home.
I cut through the village center and took the trail that led toward the river. Shadows that would once scare me were ignored—I didn't have time to be afraid. I didn't jump at the sudden hooting of owls or the various night creatures moving about in search of food. The closer I got to my destination, the clearer things became. Something was drawing me there. He would be waiting.
Disappointment crashed over me when I found the spot empty. I was completely alone, and the beauty of the moonlight reflecting in the still water was lost on me. Tears formed in my eyes, as a voice in my mind told me I would never see my Hadrian again. Maybe that's why he had come earlier, to say goodbye. The thought was devastating.
A crashing sound came from behind me, filling me with hope. I whirled around, ready to throw myself at him and tell him how much I'd missed him. But it wasn't Hadrian. It was William. I stepped back—my knees weakened by my distress—and struggled to compose myself.
What is wrong with me? I wondered. I did not like how consumed I'd become and how quickly the frantic feeling had taken over. My hands trembled and as William approached, I hid them within the folds of my gown.
"Evening, William," I said, not meeting his curious scrutiny.
"Evening, Aithne." He glanced about, a look of confusion on his face. "Why are you here? I thought something might be the matter when you rushed by without stopping. Are you alone?"
His last word reverberated inside my mind. Alone. I was alone. It was folly to think that anything could ever happen with Hadrian—nothing more than the foolish imaginings of a childish heart. But even my thoughts betrayed me, calling me a liar. I was in love.
"I am. I . . . I couldn't sleep so I decided a walk by the river might soothe me," I stammered, hoping he would accept my excuse.
"But it's late. This is not the time to be by yourself. The woods are teeming with all kinds of danger." His voice sounded concerned, and he took a step closer. "You could be hurt, Aithne. Does your father, at least, know where you are?"
I glanced over at the woods, the action causing pain to lance through me. Yes, the woods were filled with all kinds of things—danger and magic. At this very moment I was in more danger of receiving a broken heart than having my throat slit by a bandit.
"He doesn't. I didn't wish to wake him, and I thought I wouldn't be gone long." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling the chill in the air. Instantly, William was shrugging out of his coat and placing it around my shoulders.
"You're shivering. You didn't even wear a coat. Where is your head? This is unlike you?" His last words were soft and full of concern. I couldn't stop myself from trembling now that I had started. William pulled me into his warm embrace and the shivering receded.
I nestled into his arms, placed my head against his chest, and for the first time this evening was content. I'd forgotten the kind of security William induced when he held me—the reassurance and protection he offered. I grabbed hold of his shirt front, tightened my fists, and took deep breaths.
"There, there. What's wrong?" His hand brushed the back of my head, his fingers trailed in my hair, and I relaxed against him. William had always been a patient listener, but the turmoil I was feeling wasn't something I could share.
Gathering myself, I slowly broke free from his arms and felt foolish for my display of emotions. "I'm fine. I guess the events of the day have finally caught up with me. I realize how reckless I was coming here, and that's no relief either. I don't think sometimes. I get an idea in my head and away I go." I shook my head and studied the ground.
"I happen to find that an endearing quality of yours, Aithne. Its proof of the remarkable spirit you have. I've always admired it." Using his hand to tilt my chin back, William's eyes looked deep into mine. "Are things so bad you couldn't confide in a friend?"
I should've known he wouldn't be so easily distracted. "Truly, I am fine. Thank you though. I'm glad you are here."
He looked uncertain still like more questions were on the tip of his tongue, begging to be asked. I refused to look away this time, and he finally nodded. "Would you mind if I joined you? Unless you want to go home and then I insist I escort you there."
I peered into the shadows of the wood, finding nothing. Something told me I should return to my bed, but I found myself walking along the water's edge. "Please stay. I'm not ready to go just yet."
I bent down, moving my fingers through the slow moving water, delighted to find it wasn't as cold as I expected. Cupping my hand, I scooped up the liquid, and watched as it trickled refreshingly down. I raised another palmful and took a drink. The coolness helped clear my mind.
"So what were you doing up so late, William?" Feeling more myself, I turned to my friend and caught him staring. "Going for a late night rendezvous?" I knew I was teasing him, but once the words escaped my mouth, it didn't sit well. I realized I didn't want him out with another girl doing things best hidden in darkness.
Shame filled me. I was a hypocrite of the worst kind. I'd come out for the same reason, yet didn't like knowing he might be doing it also. A friend never begrudges another from finding moments of happiness, and it confused me when I discovered I was also feeling something else—jealousy.
He didn't answer me at first, searching the ground for flat stones to skim across the river surface. I found myself studying the way his body moved. I imagined the muscles now covered by clothes. He held strength and agility, which he further proved by throwing the rocks one after another.
I didn't know if it was just the mood I was in or the moonlight, but as I studied his features I was struck by how truly handsome he was—short, dark hair the color of charcoal, his face similar to my brothers (square jaw line and defined cheekbones), full mouth and prominent nose. He had a dimple on the right side of his cheek, and when he smiled, it would appear to tease me.
It was his eyes that I favored most, however—like the deepest blue of the ocean, framed with long lashes. I had spent endless hours daydreaming about a time they would look to me and light up with love. I'd been so infatuated. I actually stumbled upon him sleeping once, and attempted to count each eyelash. Those days seemed like a lifetime ago.
At last he answered and his voice was clear over the night air. "I was returning home after a late night at the forge. I was trying to finish the last of my orders before the festival. Father agreed to close the shop for two days, so I wanted to be prepared."
We returned to a comfortable silence—the only noise the plopping of a thrown rock as it bounced across the water and down to the bottom of the riverbed. As I gazed up at the stars—looking for my favorite constellations—I let out a sigh.
"Aithne?"
Minutes had passed, and I turned my attention to William, who had stopped his activity and was staring out into the darkness. "Yes?"
"Have you ever thought of your future?" His question came out softly, as if he hadn't meant to speak.
I paused for a moment, not knowing how to answer him. "Sometimes. I mean . . . I imagine one day I will marry and have children. Is that what you mean?" A sensation fluttered in my stomach. It was light enough for me to see him nod his head. "Have you?"
"Yes." That was all he said and silence resumed.
When I couldn't stand it any longer, I walked over to join him. "And?"
Facing me, his eyes swept over my face. "I want it all. A wife and a home filled with happy, healthy children. I want to spend each day at the forge, using my hands to help others, and spend each night in the arms of the one I love the most. I want to grow old together and collect a lifetime full of memories." His words pierced me—they were everything I wanted also.
"It seems like you've thought a lot about it," I murmured.
"I've thought of nothing else. I even know who my someone is." The earnestness of his face burned as he took hold of my arms, his thumbs brushing up and down against the material of his coat. "Ask me who, Aithne." His voice was low, and I found myself desperate to hear him speak my name, even though I knew I shouldn't.
"Who?" I asked, somewhat breathless and I caught myself leaning in.
"You." With that one word, William pulled me in close and crushed his mouth against mine.
I wasn't prepared for the way my arms automatically moved and wrapped around his neck, or how my lips parted for him. Everything about this was new—my first kiss—and it stirred up a storm I didn't think I would survive.
There was an instant connection, and I could feel myself relaxing against his body. I'd always thought my first time would be an awkward bumping of noses before a more uncomfortable peck. There was none of that with William. He was gentle, tenderly holding my face to his, and our kiss was more than I could have ever imagined.
His lips were so soft, and I shivered when he pulled back and brushed them slowly over mine before applying more pressure. A tingle started in the pit of my stomach, causing my toes to curl in my slippers, and when it was done I stood there with my eyes closed—savoring it.
My chest thudded, and I was slightly light headed. I didn't quite know why it had happened, but I was grateful it had. If these were the emotions and feelings that came from kissing, I would happily spend the rest of my life doing it.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," William finally spoke. He caressed the side of my face as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Still caught up in the kiss, I didn't reply. I couldn't.
He must've taken my silence as my being upset, because the look of wonder on his face was immediately replaced with one of regret.
"I am sorry, Aithne. I don't know what I was thinking. This wasn't how I had it planned. You just looked so beautiful with the moonlight shining on your hair and I couldn't resist."
I opened my mouth to tell him he didn't need to apologize, that for a first kiss it had been perfect, but he placed his finger over my mouth, silencing me.
"No, you don't need to answer. Just let me say something and then I'll take you home. There is nothing more I want in this world than to be with you. I plan on asking your father for your hand, marrying you, and then spending the rest of my life making sure you are nothing but safe and blissfully happy. I can do that, Aithne. With everything I am, I promise you will never want for anything. Just give me a chance to prove that. Not with stolen kisses in the dark. Let me court you." I stared into his eyes and found sincerity blazing there. "Just think about it, and when you're ready, come find me."
I nodded my head, stunned by his impassioned speech. Deirdre had been right about William and I wondered how I'd never seen it. It caused the division in my mind and heart to crack further—Hadrian, a fantasy come to life, or William, the childhood friend I'd also daydreamed about.
He led me home. The journey was over in a heartbeat, and we were quiet as I handed him back his coat. So much had happened between us tonight; things had changed, and I prayed I would be able to untangle how I was feeling. The last thing I wanted was for him to be hurt.
I stood at the door and watched him turn to leave; only, he stopped and faced me.
"Aithne?"
"Yes?"
I was wrong. I'm not sorry—maybe for rushing things—but never for that kiss. I just wanted you to know that. Goodnight."
And with that admission, he was gone.