“No more,” she said in a trembling voice. “No more, please. If you really do love me, don’t let me dishonor myself. I’ve made a promise. Anything might come later, after that promise was fulfilled, I suppose... if you still wanted me...”

“I would wait forever,” he said calmly, “and do anything for you but stand away and watch you go with another man.”

“Then if you love me, go away from me. Please, Will!”

“Another kiss.”

She stepped forward at once, raising her face trustingly up to his, and he understood he could do whatever he wanted with her. She was, at least for the moment, no longer her own mistress; she might consequently be his. He could do to her what Marten had done to his own mother, if that was his fancy.

The thought broke his passion apart, turned it to coals that fell in a bright shower, winking out one by one in a dark bewilderment. His father’s acceptance (I have known for two years)

was in many ways the worst part of what had happened to him this year; how could he fall in love with this girl—any girl—in a world where such evils of the heart seemed necessary, and might even be repeated?

Yet he did love her.

Instead of the passionate kiss he wanted, he placed his lips lightly on the corner of her mouth where the little rill of blood flowed. He kissed, tasting salt like the taste of his own tears. He closed his eyes and shivered when her hand stroked the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’d not hurt Olive Thorin for the world,” she whispered in his ear. “No more than I’d hurt thee, Will. I didn’t understand, and now ’tis too late to be put right. But thank you for not... not taking what you could. And I’ll remember you always. How it was to be kissed by you. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me, I think. Like heaven and earth all wrapped up together, aye.”

“I’ll remember, too.” He watched her swing up into the saddle, and remembered how her bare legs had flashed in the dark on the night he had met her. And suddenly he couldn’t let her go. He reached forward, touched her boot.

“Susan—”

“No,” she said. “Please.”

He stood back. Somehow.

“This is our secret,” she said. “Yes?”

“Aye.”

She smiled at that... but it was a sad smile. “Stay away from me from now on, Will. Please. And I’ll stay away from you.”

He thought about it. “If we can.”

“We must, Will. We must.”

She rode away fast. Roland stood beside Rusher’s stirrup, watching her go. And when she was out of sight over the horizon, still he watched.

10