Free Wild Wind by Patricia Ryan Page B

and re-forming on a frozen lake.
    He was changing. They were both changing, profoundly and for all time. He felt it in the depths of his soul, and he knew she felt it, too.
    They’d been united, always and forever, in a spiritual bond that could never be broken.
    They were one.
    * * *
    “I’M IN LOVE with her,” Alex whispered to his brother.
    “Which one?” Following Alex’s gaze, Luke peered at the three young women chatting before a window in the great hall of their cousin Peter’s manor house.
    “Lady Nicolette, of course!” The other two were married, Phelis to Peter and Alyce to their brother, Christien. And both were large with child, for pity’s sake!
    “Hush!” Luke scolded, darting a wary glance toward their father and stepmother, being greeted by Peter not two yards away. “Do you want the whole world to know?”
    “Yes!” Alex watched as Nicki, unaware of his scrutiny, nodded in response to something her cousin Phelis was saying. She wore her favorite tunic today, a silken gown of snowy white. Backlit as she was by the midday sun streaming in through the window, she looked like an angel who’d floated to earth just for him. Her radiant hair, crowned with a circlet of gold, hung in two long braids interwoven with white ribbons, exposing the pearl earrings dangling from her delicate ears. “I want to shout it to the heavens. I can’t, but, God, how I want to. I love her, Luke. I’m unbearably in love with her. I used to laugh at the jongleurs and their silly romantic cansos. Now, finally, I truly know what it means to be in—”
    “Oh, hell.” Luke expelled a great and weary sigh.
    “What’s the matter?”
    “Have you told her how you feel?”
    Three weeks had passed since his revelation the day they’d stumbled across the cave, but he hadn’t yet been able to work up the courage to declare himself. “I will, soon. I just—”
    “Don’t. Have you told anyone else?”
    “Nay. Well...just Father Gregoire. Her mother would be—”
    “Good. See that you keep your mouth shut.”
    Alex frowned at Luke’s sharp tone. He’d waited weeks to confide in his beloved brother, conscious of the danger—mostly to Nicki—should they be found out. Now he wished he’d kept his counsel.
    From across the hall, Nicki glanced in his direction, then abruptly looked away. Her mother must be close at hand. He scanned the hall, swarming with servants setting up tables and the guests mysteriously summoned by Peter that morning for dinner and a “special announcement.” Presently he spied Lady Sybila de St. Clair, who dominated her otherwise strong-willed daughter’s actions—even her thoughts, it seemed—with steely authority. Ever the grim widow, Nicki’s mother was enshrouded in one of her several black tunics, her hair concealed beneath a white couvre-chef. The severe hooded headdress, and that dour expression, ruined any beauty she might once have possessed and added years to her age. How could a girl as incandescently lovely as Nicki have been born of such a creature?
    “That’s why you’ve lost interest in your training this summer,” Luke muttered disapprovingly. “You’ve been mooning over a girl.”
    “I’m not just ‘mooning over’ her, I love her. And I haven’t lost interest in my training.” Alex was already celebrated for his mastery of the sword, despite his youth—perhaps because of it. He would not let his skills rust away. “I’ve simply taken some time to myself this summer, before we have to report to Duke William.”
    “Does Lady Nicolette know that you’ll be leaving Périgeaux in two weeks to wield your sword for the duke? That you have no home and no immediate prospects of one?”
    “Of course. I tell Nicki everything. I can talk to her—”
    Luke grimaced. “‘Nicki?’ Don’t let anyone else hear you call her that. For God’s sake, Alex. What are you thinking of, courting a lady of her rank when you can offer her nothing? Have you lost your senses