Grace of Vernow by Shari L. Tapscott

Author:Shari L. Tapscott [Tapscott, Shari L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romantic, FairyTale
Published: 2015-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

Summer's End

I peer into the branches above me, wondering if I can spot the bird camouflaged by the leaves.

Javid finds it and points between the branches. “Purple-winged Nuthatch.”

I sigh, having hoped it would have been something more interesting.

We rest in the shade of a cluster of trees by the pond’s edge. The scraps from our picnic lunch are luring in ants, but Javid doesn’t seem to care. He’s sprawled out in the grass, his hands pillowed under his head as he stares up at the tree. I sit next to him, my blank journal in my lap.

A soft, cool breeze blows over the pond, and I close my eyes, enjoying the sounds of late summer. It’s as perfect an afternoon as I could hope for.

“I have to leave soon, Grace.”

I open my eyes. “Is there a dinner tonight?”

He shifts, sitting up on his elbow. I pluck a stray leaf from his shoulder and twirl it between my fingers. He stills my hand. I drop the leaf, and he threads his fingers through mine. His green eyes are serious, and there’s no smile on his face. Dread builds in my stomach.

“The summer is nearing its end. I have to go back to Ptarma.”

I try to pull my hand back, but he holds firm. He rubs my palm with his thumb, and for a moment I pretend he hasn’t spoken at all.

“When?” I finally ask.

He sits up, moving close to me. “A week.”

So soon. Pippa and Archer will return to Lauramore only a few days after that.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whisper.

He finds a strand of my hair and winds it between his fingers. “I didn’t know how to. I didn’t want to think about it.”

I nod, but I can’t meet his eyes.

“You would like Ptarma.” His voice is quiet. “I wish—”

I place my fingers over his lips, surprising him. I’m not sure what he was planning to say, but I know it will hurt worse than the silence. Slowly, I lower my hand and move forward. He’s still—still enough I wonder if he thinks he’ll spook me if he moves. I press a soft kiss to his lips and then pull back.

“Oh, Grace,” he breathes.

His hand strays from my hair to my neck, and he pulls me closer, his lips claiming mine. His kiss is gentle and slow, as if we have all the time in the world. I could die happy at the sweetness of it, at the beautiful rightness of the moment.

He ends the kiss and rests his forehead against mine. “How am I supposed to let you go?”

I have no answer for that. What I had hoped would bring us closure has lit a fire in my heart, making me want to keep him closer, not say goodbye.

***

I wake, bleary-eyed. The candle has snuffed itself out, and the room is still pitch black. The pounding sounds on the door again.

The library is locked at night. No patrons may linger past mid-night, and I can’t imagine Master Rynsten would wake me at this hour.

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