Waiting and Awaited

Chapter 12 - Laid Bare

Calista walked quietly beside the Duke with her hand tucked tightly under his arm. Her head was losing its sluggishness and she was walking steadier between the rows of lavender but their conversation in the Penthouse was getting her more confused. Right after he had told her in a voice that brooked no argument that he was the one who got her flowers, he had taken her hand, marched her right up to the roofdeck and led her through the lavender fields. He had kept the pace too for about five minutes that she had a feeling that he was trying to get her feet to fall off. If he was ten years younger she would have thought he was sulking and laughed. But he was a grown Duke, and her feet hurt. She gave up and stood very still until he too had to stop.

"I know we are both not dressed for a stroll through dirt but at least your shoes are flat and mine are killing me." Immediately he bent down and grabbed her feet to take off the offending objects and massaged her soles. She had to grab his shoulders for balance. Not quite what she had in mind. In fact, it was way better. She grabbed the pumps with one hand and the hem of her dress with the other and continued walking barefoot. Yes, this was infinitely better, feeling the soft dirt between her toes. She turned and saw him still on his haunches and staring at her, deep in thought.

"Well? Shall we, Mr. Duke? If your feet hurt too you can take those off as well. I can't return the massage though," she said with an impish grin, holding up both hands to show they were busy.

"You know what? I'll take you up on that," he replied and proceeded to step out of his excellent dress shoes, which although a little worse for wear because of the dirt, were actually very comfortable. The shoemaker was probably going to give him an earful after what he did to his latest masterpiece. But he had a feeling he would gladly make him another pair if he knew about tonight.

His bare feet touched earth and for a moment he forgot about shoes. He remembered his childhood days, running barefoot in the Vineries with Rivas. It had been a long while and he had forgotten how to be as free as that. Too soon he had started his education, at the same age as all the other citizens, but he spent additional hours for his apprenticeship with the Duke. Long days in meetings and sessions with tutors for special lessons had felt very confining, until he learned to accept it as his fate.

"It does feel good, doesn't it? I never knew dirt could smell, or feel, this wonderful," she said in a soft voice beside him.

Rone never thought of himself as sensitive to the thoughts of women. That was Rivas' turf. He can read his consultants' body language, list down all possible meanings that a suspected rebel's hesitation during interrogation can have, but he had never claimed to understand what went on under a woman's skull. So it felt like an epiphany of tremendous proportions when he realized that there was one important detail about his match that had just become apparent to him.

"Do you think you are unworthy?" he asked her, his brows drawn together at the absurdity of his own question, and yet it made perfect sense. How she was anxious yet determined when she came to him to spare the fish, but seemed to become more withdrawn after his vial broke. Her reluctance to the match, her refusal to his invitation, and her assumption that he had merely ordered somebody else to send her flowers.

She looked down at her toes. She knew he would soon understand. She didn't know why but she knew he was smart and observant. She just didn't expect it to be this soon, tonight when she felt exposed after she had talked so much more about herself than ever before.

"I live with my flighty mother and a father who is content to live quietly with a daughter who taunts the rules with a fish. I feed fish during the day and count the fact that I am not gutting them as a blessing. I do not even have a vial for you to break." She said the last part in a whisper, as if afraid somebody else would her about her crime. "However, if not for that one misfortune, I would not have even come close to you enough to break yours. You would never even have stopped to speak to me if you had come by the tanks."