The Fae Lord's Lady Read online

  That was it. As she stomped to the door of the manor, she turned around to glare. "I may have loved you, but I find I don’t like you very much right now."

  "You’re not too likable yourself at the moment. But the past will return, and you will remember our love for what it was."

  Her hand stilled on the knob. "You make it sound like our love was perfect."

  He let out an amused sound. "It wasn’t perfect, far from it."

  She closed her opened mouth with a snap. "Nice to know where I rank." Twisting the doorknob as tears blurred her vision, she fumbled with the heavy door.

  Once she was inside, his voice floated through the wood. "But it was perfect in its imperfection. It was messy, maddening, endearing, exciting. All that was there, and it was ours."

  * * *

  * * *

  Natalie wandered around one of the courtyards she’d found, kicking at whatever stray stone that crossed her path. Some of the flowers released scents that calmed her. She needed that right now.

  The exotic scenery no longer disturbed her as it had, but she was still ambivalent about some of the residents that made their home in Lorh’s gardens. But she hadn’t looked forward to returning to her chamber, lovely as it was. She needed motion. And space. Most of all, space. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be enough of it in the world for her and her problems.

  She curled her lips into a bitter smile. Her life was a mess, with past memories inserting themselves into her psyche. How that was being accomplished was mindboggling in its mystery. As Lorh’s wife, she’d died, so why were these recollections even in her — the present Natalie’s — head? Lorh knew the reason. He had to. Since they weren’t speaking, she couldn’t try to finagle the truth from him. Not that he’d let her.

  Tilting her head back, she let the sun cast its warm rays across her face. At that small comfort, she sighed. Heaven knew she was tired of drawing false assumptions with the sketchy information she did have. She’d made so many false suppositions, like believing Lorh’s wife had been fae. If she could help it, she didn’t want to make any more.

  The worst part of the whole situation was that she didn’t even know what and how she should feel. Until she had full knowledge of the past, she doubted she would. Even then, clarity of her previous life might not offer her clearness of mind.

  "Mo — Natalie, how do you fare?"

  She spun around with a hand over her heart. "Aeron!" After clearing her throat, she spoke through the lump that’d formed, her voice thick. "You’re so quiet I didn’t hear you."

  He flushed, looking away. "Well, you were preoccupied."

  "You could say that again."

  "You were preoc —"

  His response took Natalie so much by surprise that she let out a genuine laugh. "No, I didn’t mean that literally. It’s just a saying that means while your words are true, they’re also an understatement."

  He inclined his head and nodded thoughtfully. "The intricacies and nuances of Earth-bound English are hard to learn in TirAnn." A moment of silence stretched on before he again asked, "How do you fare?"

  The earnestness on his face was nearly her undoing. Concern radiated from him, but so did wariness. This whole situation was not easy for anyone involved. The children were entirely innocent in it all. The same couldn’t be said for her or Lorh.

  She sighed. "Not real well, Aeron. I’m…this is very awkward. I don’t know what to say to you. I’m apparently your mother but have no idea how to be one to you or your sisters."

  He grimaced in agreement. "This situation is hard. You’re my mother, but then again, you’re not. You have few memories of us and, before coming here, had none."

  "I didn’t have memories, no. But I always had a feeling that my life wasn’t what it should be. No man could measure up to a phantom idea that I didn’t even understand. And now the memories are coming back. Does fully remembering the past make me any more your mother?"

  "Biology is but one small part of being a parent. You wanted to be a mother then, but do you now?"

  The startling wisdom in his words froze any hopes of a response forming on her lips. How could one sentence be so hard to answer? Still, she’d have to make a choice and soon. Did she want to be a mother to an already made family that she’d only begun to remember? Her past self had chosen that path. Should she, the present Natalie, be bound by choices that had occurred so long ago — a lifetime ago?

  But to turn her back on them… She couldn’t imagine that outcome, either. Even before her memories returned, she’d grown attached to the point of wondering how she’d be able to leave them.

  "I’m not sure how to answer that truthfully at the moment. Everything’s all mixed up in my head and needs to be straightened out."

  As she spoke, Aeron’s carefully guarded face, so like his father’s, crumpled a bit in disappointment. Scrounging up the nerve, she walked the few steps needed to place her hand on his arm. "Please don’t take this as a rejection, Aeron."

  His nod spurred her on. "And what do you want, Aeron? Do you want a mother?"

  He hesitated. "At one time I would’ve said yes unequivocally but not now."

  His words struck like a blow, considering she didn’t even know if she could function as a parent to a teen who was older than her. Then another thought hit and made her stumble. Could she add the years of her previous life to this one? Then she’d no longer be so young. That really didn’t make sense, though. No matter what had happened, she’d only lived twenty-five years as present-day Natalie.

  Aeron steadied her. "You’ve gained another memory?"

  Shaking her head no, she pressed a hand to her aching head while he helped her to a nearby bench. "Not this time, though they do strike when they please."

  He sat down beside her, clasping his hands loosely between his legs, forearms resting on his knees. "After leaving you with quite the headache, I’ve noticed."

  "Why did you and your sisters act as if Lorh was your sibling?"

  His gaze flickered away from hers. "We couldn’t tell you the truth, at least not right away."

  She knew evasion when she saw it. "Why not?"

  "Well, one obvious reason — you would’ve believed us insane."

  She mimicked his slouching pose. "I can see how you would have thought that. But what is the other reason?"

  "Other reason?"

  "The one you’re not telling me."

  He blinked. "Ah, that one. You need to ask Vichi about it."

  She remembered enough of the Faerin language to know that "vichi" meant father. "I don’t feel much like talking to him."

  "This situation isn’t his fault. Well, I guess it is." He sent her a sly sidelong glance. "You didn’t hear that from me, okay?"

  She shook her head disbelievingly. His formal cultured tone was so at odds with his words. Her children’s way of talking always sur —

  Astonishment steamrolled through her. Her children? That just had to be a slip of the mind and not true acceptance of the situation, right? Liar, you’re starting to see them as yours.

  She was so busy arguing with herself she barely heard Aeron speak.

  "You’re going to have to talk to Father, you know."

  Oh, no, no, no. "Thanks for the offer, but I must refuse."

  "He’s not so bad. He raised us alone for forty years." His eyes glazed over, a faraway look entering them. "I remember those early years very well. He wasn’t the man he’d been or is now. Back then, there was a desperation he couldn’t hide from us." Aeron smiled sadly. "He hadn’t yet figured out how to secure your return. Needless to say, he didn’t seek rest the way he should have. Even a fae needs sleep, and during those first years, he received very little between the memories and the search, which both ate away at him."

  The pain reflected in Aeron’s eyes made her breath catch in her throat. "Was he a good father?"

  "He wasn’t perfect, but he lived for us. He was…sometimes is still a little overprotective. I thought it our hu
man blood that made him so, but now I see it was his fear. He couldn’t protect you, regardless of your blood. Your humanity, I daresay, was both a blessing and a curse in your case."

  "It was?" Seeing how he arched his brows, she knew what was coming next. "Ask your father, right?" His only reply was a flash of white teeth. She rolled her eyes. "That’s getting trite."

  "Maybe so, but it’s all I have to offer."

  She shook her head. "Just like your father."

  He drew himself up, offended. "I’m not ancient like he is."

  "No, of course not. But you seem mature for your age."

  He grinned. "Many wouldn’t agree with that assessment."

  "Your sisters, for one?"

  "Yes, mostly them." His smile showed a good amount of brotherly devilry before it died away. "If I seem mature, it’s because I had to grow up fast. While Father was there for us in every way possible, he was still a busy lord with issues of governance to oversee. He still is."

  "I’ve seen quite a few people in town, but where are all the people who work and live in the manor and on its grounds?"

  "He basically took these three weeks off and sent everyone, except for a small skeleton staff, home. Most are not due to come back until the allotted time has passed."

  "Oh my, he did that?"

  "What can I say? It’s good to be lord."

  A peal of laughter left Natalie. "Oh, you’re a joy. I don’t know where you get these expressions, but your choice of vernacular almost makes me feel like I’m home."

  "Maybe you are."

  "Maybe," she said, giving him a contemplative look.

  A grin lit up his features, and his shoulder bumped hers. "It’s good to have you back, even if you’re not quite ready to be my mother."

  13

  Natalie peeked around a corner, her gaze furtively sweeping over the wide hall that ran past Lorh’s study. She didn’t feel like having a run-in with him. The forced politeness they’d both retreated behind grated on her nerves. They hadn’t discussed her role in his life, and she was thankful for that. But she knew he only bided his time, and she dreaded the day he’d ask her for an answer to a decision she didn’t know how to make.

  Though she avoided him for the last seven days, she’d had the benefit of getting to know the children better. Often, she found herself left with an awed feeling that these children were actually hers, if only she dared claim them. The bittersweet sensation tugged on her heart even now.

  Nara and little Sirina had adjusted quite well, but as she expected, Aeron and Aiya had a harder time of it. Out of the four siblings, they were most alike in personality, so it stood to reason their coping mechanisms functioned in much the same manner. What complicated the matter were their respective ages. For all intents and purposes, Aeron was a teen with all the issues that accompanied this stage. He blew hot one minute and cold the next. Aiya was neither a teen nor a toddler and was at that minefield stage where autonomy and dependence mingled, paving a treacherous path for Natalie to navigate.

  She knew their erratic behavior hid a fear of abandonment. Of her leaving. It was a fear she couldn’t alleviate, not until she was sure. Natalie took a step closer to that decision every day, every hour that she was here. Something, though, stopped her from fully committing to it. But everything, her dreams, her memories, pointed toward it.

  Sparing the hall one last glance, she stepped around the corner only to have a hand latch on to her arm, pulling her to a stop.

  She swallowed, looking down at the hand that held her arm captive. It wasn’t the hand of a child or teen, but of a man — the same fae that featured in her dreams at night. Closing her eyes to block out those sensuous visions, she let her body go stiff as he invaded her personal bubble of space.

  "I believe you’ve had time enough to remember and reflect, my lady. Our discussion awaits us."

  She almost groaned at the steely note in his voice but was determined not to give him the satisfaction. Deciding no response was the best course, she inclined her head toward him. Maybe it was better to get this over with instead of fretting about and avoiding it.

  Tell that to her pounding heart. It didn’t heed the logical conclusion her mind had drawn. Neither did her rubbery legs or her trembling fingers.

  Once she and Lorh started walking, his hand tightened around her elbow as if he feared she’d escape. Not a bad conclusion on his part. He led her past his study, not seeking its familiarity as she thought he would’ve. She couldn’t be too surprised. His ability to turn any situation on its ear was something that had come back to her.

  Instead, he took her down a hall not far from the one that housed her chambers. She cast a nervous glance around. What old ghosts awaited her here? Nara had told her this was where the family’s rooms were located. No good could come of this.

  He stopped in front of an ornately carved door and flung it open with more force than she’d ever seen him use. Sweeping out an arm, he gestured for her to enter first. She glanced at his face and gulped. Lorh certainly didn’t seem in the best of moods.

  The ambiance of the room hit her all at once. As soon as she stepped past the threshold, she knew whose room it was. Though the chamber was predominately neutral in gender, the occasional female possession was scattered amongst its masculine counterparts.

  Memories abounded in this room and pressed in on her. She shivered, though not in revulsion. The heavy weight of the past could wound her like nothing else. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked, still lurking by the entrance.

  Lorh slipped into the room and stood beside her. "I thought you’d want to see the chamber we shared. You do want to know of the past, don’t you?"

  Not when he looked at her like that, intense and wanting what she couldn’t yet give. In this room her resistance would crumble like a wall made out of sand. And he knew it.

  He’d devised the perfect setup. No wonder he’d bypassed his study. Lorh was determined to use emotional warfare and bombard her with the most intimate of memories. Even now, her resolve to stay distant was softening.

  A jolt of anger sizzled through her. She couldn’t allow that to happen. "And you’re determined to submerge me in recollections of the past?"

  "It is time."

  She clenched her fists so she wouldn’t give in to the urge to shake them in his face. "You get to choose that, too?"

  "You’ve been avoiding me for a week, and only seven days remain."

  "Yes, and I have until then to make my decision."

  Lorh paced the perimeter of the room. "I don’t deny that, but we have to talk before then." Seeing her get ready to offer a retort, he said, "And that time is here."

  Scowling, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine, talk."

  "This conversation would be more amicable if you weren’t so petulant."

  A tiny twinge of guilt assailed her, but she shrugged it off. She was being a brat, but this room set her on edge. He was the one who’d brought her here, so she would offer no apologies.

  "How much do you remember?"

  She hesitated, not sure if she wanted him to know the extent of her recovery. "A lot more than I had, but it’s still spotty at best."

  He stopped prowling around to stare at her. "That’s a very vague response."

  "No more so than your usual answer. Now you know how I feel."

  "This is not a game, Natalie."

  "Never said it was."

  "You blame this whole situation on me."

  Starting to shake her head, she paused. She had needed a scapegoat, even though so much had been out of his control. Except…

  "You’re the reason I’m here."

  "You would’ve wanted to continue on in that other life, not knowing of the family that awaited you here?"

  "Couldn’t miss what I didn’t know I had." Even as she said the words, the hurtfulness and untruth in them made her wince inwardly. Her life had been happy enough, but she’d never come close to finding someone who made her heart pound — u
ntil Lorh.

  His eyes narrowed under slashing brows. He took a few steps toward her, anger and disbelief pasted on his face. "You left," he practically shouted, "leaving me with four children who cried for their mother."

  Though she was a little cowed by his behavior, an answering ire grew within her. Now he was blaming her? "Sorry I died and inconvenienced you."

  "Just do not do it again."

  "I won’t —" She paused, confused. "Make sure I don’t do what?"

  "Die again. I strictly forbid it."

  Amazement at his audacity blindsided her. "You forbid it? Even you don’t hold sway over that specter."

  His breathing was ragged as he whirled away from her and stalked to a window. Clutching the frame, he leaned forward until his forehead nearly touched the glass. Only then did he speak.

  "No, that is why I had to wait forty years for you to arrive here."

  That raw tone caused her anger to sputter out like a flame under the spray of water. Part of her did understand his perspective. Though not intentionally, she’d left him to raise their children. They were great kids — smart, loyal, and affectionate. But even the best of kids weren’t easy to raise alone. Lorh was a proud man. While he had servants aplenty, he insisted on being involved in every facet of their lives to which she’d seen previously. Nara and Aeron had told her as much.

  And his extended family… She grimaced, knowing from her children that his relationship with his parents and most of his siblings had been cool, especially after he married her. Now her memory supplied other details, causing her to remember just what Lorh had sacrificed to be with her.

  Humans were theoretically accepted in TirAnn, but the practical application of this premise wasn’t so simple. Somehow, she and Lorh had fallen in love on Earth, and she vaguely recalled them going to TirAnn’s capital city of Tir. But bigotry and intolerance had driven them to retreat to Lorh’s manor in the country.

  TirAnn didn’t have kings, but it did have ruling families, and Lorh’s family was one of them. They would never have stripped Lorh of his wealth or privileged status, because of the public humiliation it would’ve brought to their name, but his family had been frosty to Natalie and, by extension, Lorh. She shivered. Yes, polite but frosty.