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She planned on learning about him but whatever could she possibly learn from him?
Her grandmother had reminded her often that knowledge came in strange ways and to always be open to it. She would see what of anything her husband could teach her.
“Put your hood up, it’s snowing,” Varrick said, having watched his wife drift off in deep thought and wondering where it had taken her.
Fia had not realized it had started to snow. She held her hand out to catch a snowflake that swiftly melted at her touch. “I love the snow and the way it paints the forest white.”
“Your hood,” he reminded, seeing that the snow had dusted her hair, making it appear as if a soft veil crowned her head.
He could not take his eyes off her. He had known beautiful women, had coupled with a few, but there was something different about Fia’s beauty. Or was it her witchcraft that forced a man’s eyes to linger on her so she could devour his soul? He still remembered the day he had lost his soul. He would never forget it, never wanted to, for it had served him well.
“Your hood,” he said again, seeing she still had not paid heed to his word and leaned over to yank her hood up on her head.
His fingers grazed her face, her skin so soft that a tingle shot up his arm and through him or had that been her witchcraft? He stared at her and she at him. Had she felt it too?
“Lord Varrick!”
Varrick turned at Argus’s shout.
“A word,” Argus said, turning a menacing look on Fia.
Varrick joined Argus, not saying a word to Fia, and two of his warriors suddenly flanked either side of her, though kept a good space from her. She should be concerned that he intended to keep a steady watch on her which would make escape difficult, but not impossible. Instead, she was concerned about what his light touch had sparked in her. His fingers had done nothing more than graze her cheek and yet it had sent a flurry of sensations through her, pleasant sensations that continued to linger in her.
Fia tried to make sense of her reaction. She had known no gentle touch since her grandmother had died, nor a loving embrace. Her mum had hugged her often and would lay a gentle hand on her in encouragement when she taught her healing ways. Her grandmother had continued to do the same after her mum had passed. She missed their gentle touches, and she missed their love and being loved.
Was that why Lord Varrick’s innocent touch caused such a flurry of sensations in her? Had it ignited memories? That might explain it, but what would explain that his reaction had been the same as hers? Something had sparked in him just as it had in her, and she had felt it.
* * *
“She had you in her spell,”Argus scolded. “You must not linger on her. She will have you spellbound in no time.”
“You worry senselessly,” Varrick said, though what was it he had felt when his fingers had accidentally grazed her cheek? The pleasant sensation still trickled through him. “It need not concern you.”
“But it does, for I will not see you consumed by her evil,” Argus argued. “We need to be done with her as fast as possible and be rid of her.”
“Is that the word you wish to have with me?” Varrick snapped.
“I will never stop speaking as a friend to you, when necessary, no matter how annoyed you get at me.”
“Something I count on, Argus,” Varrick said and meant it.
“No one follows or waits ahead thus far,” Argus said, delivering his intended message. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Has the witch sensed anything?”
“She has said nothing so far.”
“Evil protects evil. She will not warn you. You need to threaten her to do so,” Argus said.
“It is better to wait,” Varrick advised, “and see what she does.”
Argus nodded. “See if she reveals evil or joins it.” His brow puckered. “What if she joins with evil?”
Varrick did not need to think about his response. “Then she dies with it.”
Argus smiled, pleased.
“Now let’s get to her cottage and be done with that,” Varrick ordered.
CHAPTER5
