Free Beloved by Stella Cameron

darker against the suggestion of draperies at the casement. “Come to me,
     Ella.”
    She could not force enough air into her body. The night and the room were one, one with the man she could not see—all pressing
     in, surrounding and drawing her. Deeper to a place she desired and feared at once.
    “If you would rather leave—”
    “No!” She advanced slowly, arms outstretched, feeling for obstacles.
    “In God’s name.”
    Ella stopped. He had spoken softly, but with such pain. “Saber, what has happened? What is it that has kept you from me? I
     love—”
    “Do not say that.”
    She covered her mouth.
    “Will you let me touch you, Ella?”
    Touch her? “Of course you may touch me. You are my friend. You said you would always be my friend.” Two more steps took her
     close enough for his shadow to become a presence. She felt his substance. A warmth emanated from the man, a warmth and an
     essence of him, of his body and spirit. “You sent me a message.”
    “You sent me many.”
    “And you ignored them all.”
    “Until now.”
    She took one more step. “You sent a gift. A beautiful gift.”
    “A cold gift. And another message.”
    “A false message. The gem is cold, but your heart is warm, my dear friend. Since the night in Cornwall when you returned from
     the fair to comfort a troubled girl, I have known your heart. What I felt for you at first has only grown, Saber. And I believe
     you spoke your true feelings then.”
    His tracing over her hair was so light, she reached to brush it away as she might a cobweb.
    He trapped her fingers. “You said I could touch you.”
    “You surprised me.”
    “This will be the only time we can be together.”
    She reached for him, found his solid chest, and filled her fingers with his jacket. “Why do you say such things? There is
     no impediment to our being together now. I am no longer a child.”
    His hand moved from her hair to her face. With the delicacy of a butterfly’s wings, he traced her brow, her eyelids, her cheeks—and
     settled a forefinger on her mouth. “I remember your mouth, little Ella. God help me, I remember everything about you.” He
     breathed out, long and slow. “I remember the scent of you. Wildflowers. You still smell of wildflowers, and sun on warm grass—and
     sweetness.”
    She held very still, but inside she trembled. “And I remember you. Everything about you. Why did you go away after you had
     recovered from your injury? I wanted to be with you. You told me we would be together one day.”
    “I had to go. Please do not speak of that. I had to return to India.”
    “But you have come back again now, and—”
    His finger on her lips sealed her words away. “This will be the only time, Ella. Should you prefer to leave me now?”
    “I do not ever want to leave you!”
    “What I want, I should turn from. What I want is wrong.” She pushed close and rested her cheek on his hard chest. “Whatever
     you want should be yours. Tell me. I’ll get it for you.”
    He laughed at that, a short, bitter laugh. “You have brought me what I want—and what will ensure that the remains of my miserable
     life will be a penance.”
    She did not understand. “I struggled against coming here tonight. Struggled and lost. But perhaps that is as well. We are
     both in need of finding some peace for ourselves.”
    “You mean together?” She could not hide the hope she felt. “No,” Saber said. “Apart. You must give up this pursuit of me,
     Ella. I cannot bring you happiness.”
    “I will not give you up.”
    “Then I must make you do so.”
    He spoke in riddles. “There is nothing you can do to drive me away,” Ella told him.
    His sigh hurt her. “If only that were true.” Saber settled his hand on the back of her head and held her to him. “You do not
     sound exactly as you did when you were that child in Cornwall.”
    She smiled. “Mama—Lady Justine, as you knew her then—she made certain Max and I learned not to embarrass