43. The Kiss

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Ben gazed down at the Rider, whose eyes were half closed, on the verge of drifting off to sleep. His colour was better but he seemed smaller than usual, stretched out in the middle of the large bed. Everything must be so strange to him. Ben felt a twinge of guilt. Was he doing the right thing, leaving him here alone in an alien world?

Melissa was bustling around, pulling a light weight bedspread from the blanket box under the window. Gently, she eased the boots from the Rider's feet and tucked the spread around him.

No, there was no need for him to worry, the Rider would be well looked after, thought Ben. Reassured, he leant down to make his farewells. He touched the rider lightly on the shoulder.

"Rider? I'm returning to Rhillion, but you'll be safe here. Melissa will take good care of you."

The Rider blinked drowsily, then suddenly reached out to grasp his wrist, anchoring Ben in place. His eyes were wide with alarm.

"Thou will return? Thou swear?"

"I swear. I will return for you. When you are fit enough to return home, perhaps in two weeks. I can't tell you exactly when, time flows differently between the worlds, but I will be back." Ben spoke as confidently as he could.

"I will hold thee to it!"

Quick as a cat, he pulled Ben down and kissed him hard on the mouth.

There was a muffled gasp from behind him, the sound of an indrawn breath.

Ben pulled away, flustered. He felt the heat rushing to his cheeks. What was that about?

"I thank thee, Ben Lucas." The Rider gave an earnest smile, still holding onto his wrist.

Melissa cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise. Are you two...?" her voice trailed away.

"No," said Ben, clearing his throat. "We're not. It's just his way."

"I'm glad to hear it," came an unexpected, and very dry voice from the doorway.

"Lucian!" Ben spun around, wrenching his wrist from the Rider's grasp.

Lucian stood there, as large as life, one eyebrow raised in a quizzical fashion.

How long had he been there? Had he seen the kiss? Well, if he had, then he had also seen him draw back, Ben reassured himself. More importantly, why was Lucian here at all, in Wentworth Manor? He had been adamant about not returning to this world.

"What the hell? Where did you come from?" gasped Melissa, staring at Lucian. Then she frowned. "You look familiar, have we met?"

Ben scrambled to his feet. He couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. "Lady Melissa Wentworth, may I introduce Lord Lucian Wentworth? Your husband's distant relative. You'll have seen his portrait in the upper gallery."

"I don't believe it!" Melissa's response was automatic, despite the evidence before her eyes. "That portrait must be a couple of centuries old!"

"I told you, time moves differently between the worlds," explained Ben. "Lucian went through the mirror in 1820, and he's been in Rhillion ever since. Only eight years for him, but two hundred for us."

"That's impossible." Melissa was shaking her head. "A descendant... a great grandson, more likely."

"I assure you, it's just as unbelievable for me," said Lucian. "To be told everyone I know is dead, in fact, has been dead for more than a century." He looked around the room, taking in the furnishings and fittings. "And the house has changed. In my day, this room belonged to Perkins, my mother's maid."

"Hm." Melissa was unconvinced.

"It was much plainer then, though. And smaller, I think. And there was a connecting door over there, through to my mother's chamber." He gestured to the opposite wall, then winced as his shoulder protested.

"Perhaps. I've only ever seen it like this," replied Melissa coolly, but then added, "Though I believe my father-in-law had some renovations done to this part of the house when he took over, so I guess that's possible."

Ben cleared his throat again. "Fascinating as all this is, why are you here Lucian? And what happened to your shoulder?"

"Eldor and I had a slight disagreement." Lucian grimaced. "I'll fill you in later, but I need you to come back with me to Vierrac. Are you finished here?"

Ben could see there was a much bigger story to be told, but he understood Lucian didn't want to go into it now.

"Pretty much. I was just on my way when you turned up."

"And what about the Rider?" Lucian glanced across at the man on the bed, who appeared to have fallen asleep.

"The Rider will be staying here a bit longer, until he recovers enough to ride again. Melissa has volunteered to take care of him."

Lucian bowed in her direction. "That is kind of you."

Melissa took a step toward him.

"Do you really have to go? Right now? Only, if you really are Lucian Wentworth, I have so many questions! And I'm sure you'd like to have a look around the Manor, to see what has changed since your time."

Lucian hesitated. When Ben had asked him whether he wanted to return home, he had been firm in his denial. The pain of hearing that everyone he knew had died was too much. Now he was here, however, curiosity was stirring. But there was simply no time to go sight seeing, he had to get back to the Tower as soon as possible. Who knew what damage Eldor was doing in his absence? The Guildmaster's safety should be his prime concern.

"Much as I would like to, urgent matters recall me to Vierrac. Another time, perhaps."

"You could come with me, when I return for the Rider," offered Ben.

Lucian bit his lip. "We'll see."

Eldor's attack on him had made one thing very clear. Their antagonism had moved beyond angry words. Their next encounter would be a fight to the death.


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