Chapter 29

"Your Grace, I believe your hand will recover completely and you will be able to draw exceedingly well just like before."

He turned to her abruptly and she nearly jumped at his terrifying expression.

"This, is just a sort of entertainment for me. Nothing more. Would I be able to draw again or not, it doesn't matter to me. I don't give a bloody damn!"

And unexpectedly he flung the sketchbook away into the lake.

"No!" She couldn't help a cry. She was staggered as the sketchbook made a splash on the lake surface and drowned entirely into the water.

She turned and stared at him as if she was looking at a ghost. Her dramatic expression was almost amusing him. He challenged her surprised gaze with a murderous glare, intended to scare her away.

He meant to intimidate her with his furious manner, yet he was the first to look away. Her eyes, they made him feel weak and turned his breathing into panting. How could she have this unnerving effect on him? In all the world, no one could ever make him feel unsettled.

He turned to escape, noticing in irritation that his chest moving in unsteady breath. He strode away without a word. Ava watched his back in utter disbelief until he was completely gone, disappeared from her sight. She turned her gaze to the lake again, feeling regretful for the book. She didn't believe what had just happened.

She stood there for a long while like she couldn't let go whatever had lost. She didn't understand him for denying something that really mattered to him, and she didn't understand herself either for mourning the loss as if it was her own treasured possession.

*****

Long past midnight, after hours of availing attempt to get some sleep, Ashton rolled out of bed. He lit some candles and took a sketchbook and pencil, sitting behind the desk, not bothering to wear a shirt or a robe.

He felt an exciting feeling the moment he stroked the initial lines, the mesmerizing attraction that bound him to the sheet everytime he started a new sketch. Pain throbbed occasionally but he ignored it. He would not stop until he had done.

He drowned into his only catharsis, completely oblivious to the passage of time. When his hand finally stopped, the sky outside had turned into deep blue. He dropped his pencil to the desk and lifted the sketchbook. His eyes long settled on the image he had just created. It was merely a face.

Her face.

He had stopped denying it. He had accepted that in a strange way, she drove him mad in an irresistible artistic urge. She had become a creative stimulus for him. He wouldn't call her his muse, God no.

That was why he was feeling uneasy when she was around. Because he denied his own artistic drive. It was something he had never done before. Everytime a person or an object moved him and he felt an immediate urge to sketch, he always indulged in it. It would leave him restless if he didn't.

He shouldn't deny his desire to sketch her. She was simply an object that arouse his creative instinct, like a tree, a bird, or a beautiful scenery. Now that he had satisfied the needs, it would set him free. It would purge him of the images of her.

He rose from his seat and get dressed. Today he would allow himself a solitude in his sanctuary, which he should have done yesterday, if she didn't come and disturbed him. But today he would not let anything came between him and his canvas.

*****

She can do it. She did it before. Many times.

Ava stood before the lake as the sky turned into a lighter shade of blue. The first ray of sunlight had appeared in the horizon and the morning would come in no time. She only had to wait another minute, then she would jump into the water, go to the bottom of the lake and get the sketchbook. His sketchbook.

Doubt crashed her once again, not out of fear, but of the reason behind this insane act. Tonight when the idea crossed her mind, it had grown stronger and stronger, it consumed her the entire night. She couldn't have an hour of sleep.

She had used to do it since she was nine or ten. Delilah always threw her things into the lake nearby everytime she made her sister upset. Her diary, a carousel miniature from father, her doll, her music box, everything. And she always took it back. She was remarkably good at swimming. She could do it without any difficulty, but why? Why did she want to do this to get back something not of her belonging? It made no sense.

She was certain it was part of something really important for him. Somehow she knew, it was painful for him to deny it. But why did she care?

She convinced herself over and over again that it was guilt, it was remorse, it was moral duty, it was the way she paid for whatever she owed him, yet she was still uncertain. She was only certain that she was going to do it anyway.

She pushed away all the riot of thoughts and began to undress herself. Nobody would cross paths with her in this ungodly hour. Nobody would pass the street. To dive into the lake with all the layers in her dress would be inefficient and it would considerably slow down her move. She needed to do it fast, before anyone came upon her.

What the devil is she doing there in this ungodly hour??!

Watching her from an upper hill a distance away from his studio, Ashton staggered on his horseback. He halted the horse rightaway, peering down at the woman standing before the lake.

After the sudden death of his parents in one night, there was only little which could have him shocked. But what he was witnessing the next second knocked the breath out of him.

She was stripping off her clothes, piece to piece, until she was almost naked in her thin chemise.

Hell, he would send her away out of his land at once. What did she think she was doing? Bathing in the lake right before his property?

He jerked the bridle harshly and raced his horse in rapid speed, determined to catch her and give her the punishment she deserved. She jumped into the lake and he moved faster.

She disappeared into the water and didn't emerge after a while. As he reached the place to settle his horse, he dismounted quickly and ran toward the lake. By the edge of the water, he saw the heap of her clothes lying on the ground with her shoes and her reticule. This woman was totally insane.

He moved his gaze to the lake again. A ripple appeared on the surface. There was no sign she was going to emerge. Apparently it wasn't a common bath. An unexpected idea occurred to him. Could it be possible she was seeking for ...? Impossible. He exorcised the thought cruelly.

He waited until three minutes passing by, getting restless with every second. He had never anticipated something this intensely in his life. Each minute felt like an hour. A dreadful thought struck him. Possibly her life was in danger. He cursed in silence as he discarded his coat and threw it to the ground.

One thing for sure, she would pay for this. She would be banished and banned forever not only from this town, but from all his territory. It was the last thought he had in mind before he plunged  into the cold water.