Not that she was reallyafraid, she thought quickly. She had merely been shocked by the news Ruel was coming.She could not still love him. She had worked hard to extinguish any lingeringembers of that passion she had thought would last forever. Surely herdiscomposure was a natural reaction when she had not seen Ruel since that lastintimidating glimpse at the dock.
How did she know he still feltany bitterness toward her? The separation had made them strangers. He couldhave changed, softened over the years. He would be eager to get back to hisCinnidar and, if she was fortunate, she might not even see him during his stayat Glenclaren. He might not seek her out.
She closed her eyes andmuttered a prayer.
Dear God, let him not seek herout.
"Merciful heavens, thisplace smells." Margaret wrinkled her nose as she stepped inside the doorof Kartauk's workroom. "Dung has a better odor than that foul mixture youuse to fire your furnace."
Kartauk grinned at her overhis shoulder. "That's because dung is a primary ingredient. It's cheapfuel." He swung open the door of the furnace and slid a tray containing aclay form into the oven. "Which should please your miserly soul,madam."
"Well, this odor does notplease me." She strode forward to stand before him. "So I will havemy say and be gone."
"Not if you wish me tolisten. I must position this tray just right in the furnace." He jerkedhis head toward the high stool across the room. "Sit down."
"But I have no timeto—" She stopped as she realized, as usual, he was paying no attention toher. He never did when absorbed in his blasted work. She sat down on the stoolhe had indicated and hooked her heels on the rungs. She had been right to come.She was already experiencing an infinitesimal easing of tension she settledinto the familiar pattern they had woven between them. "You have nocomfort here. You should spare a day from your dabbles to fashion a chair ortwo."
"It's good enough forme."
"A blanket on a haystackwould be good enough for you. What about Li Sung?"
"He only sleeps here nowthat the mill is running." He cast her a glance. "You're the only onewho complains of lack of comfort. If it offends you, why don't you bring oversome of your fine furnishings from the castle?"
"So that you can ruinthem with your carelessness?"
"I'm not careless aboutthe things that are important to me."
She could not argue with himon that score. In all the details pertaining to his work he was fanaticallyscrupulous and painstaking. She had watched him spend two hours positioning oneof his figures in the furnace. "It would be better for all of us ifsomething besides those dratted dabbles mattered to you."
He did not glance up."Have you come to give me a tonguelashing? What transgression have Icommitted now?"
"If you'd stop and payattention for a moment, I would tell you," she said tartly.
"Presently. You may getyourself a cup of coffee if you like."
"And curdle my belly withyour vile brew?" She got down from the stool and moved toward the stove."I suppose I have no choice, if you persist in keeping me waiting."
"No choice at all."
She poured coffee into acracked but spotlessly clean cup. She had discovered it was one of Kartauk'sidiosyncracies that, though shambles might exist around him, everything hetouched or used must be gleaming with cleanliness. She stared curiously at theclay bust on the worktable by the furnace; it was in the first stages, thefeatures unrecognizable. "What are you working on this time?"
"Li Sung. I started itthis morning."
She strolled back to her stooland sat down again. "I would have thought you'd have done him beforethis."
"Not while he could seeme working on it. There's too much pain in Li Sung. Pain and pride. He believesno one can see his torment and it would disturb him to know that isfalse." He glanced at her. "Sometimes it is best to hide knowledge whenit hurts too much."
She met his gaze and sawwisdom, cynicism... and understanding. Too much understanding. She pulled herstare away with an effort. "On occasion you actually display good soundChristian feelings. I wish you'd be as sensitive toward females."
He went still. "You havenever asked me for sensitivity before. I didn't think you required it."
"I don't," she saidquickly. "I was not speaking of myself."
He relaxed. "Thank God.For a moment I thought I had read you wrong. What a humiliation that would havebeen."
"Ellen MacTavish."
He smiled. "A lusty maid.She brought me great pleasure."
