Chapter 31

After the fire was well lit, he stood up and walked toward the front door. She was surprised to see him leaving. The room had just grown deliciously warm and he was soaking wet just like her.

"You're leaving?" The question escaped her lips before she knew it.

'Am I supposed to stay here while you're stripping off the last piece of your clothes?' was the first reply floated in his brain, but he kept it in place. To say something like that to her was beneath his dignity. Before he made any reply, she added

"You need to take off your clothes."

Ava bit her lip at once, too late to hold the remark. Never crossed her mind she would say such a thing to him.

He imagined how would it be to hear her saying it in another circumstances.

"I can take care of myself. For now I suppose you will need some privacy."

He strolled out of the room and closed the door behind him.

His cold politeness should have extinguished the blazing flames that enfolded her despite the chill, yet she was still fevered recalling how his eyes skimmed over her just a little time ago. She wondered how much of her that he had seen through this transparent fabric. From the way he reacted, she guessed he found her attractive... She would be damned for all the wicked, wanton and irrational thoughts that unexpectedly occurred to her in the past three days.

She got rid of all the thoughts, noticing that she was still holding the sketchbook tight to her chest. She set the book carefully on the floor by the fireplace and opened it. The book opened at the sketch of a classic estate. She admired the delicate yet precise lines for a while. The papers would certainly deform as they dried out. They would be wavy and cockled, but she was glad the beautiful artworks here remained intact. She remembered how sad she was when she found the ink-writings in her diary had faded, turned the sheets into a dirty fogged mass. She wore her dry clothes and shoes quickly after removing the damp chemise. She crammed the chemise into her small reticule and hurried toward the door.

As he stood and stared at the lake, Ashton felt the cold breeze stung his skin. He didn't feel the cold a moment ago when he was with her. Now that he was alone, he could feel every bit of his body freezing. It was strange, though. They didn't even touch.

He contemplated the ripple on the water and couldn't stop himself from questioning. Why did she do all of this? No matter how good she was at swimming, no matter how remarkable her resistance under water, still it was dangerous and involving risk. He had saved her life before and get injured because of it, but she didn't need to do this. It was only a book, not a treasure. No, for the world it might be only a book, but for him it was some kind of treasure indeed. And somehow she knew it.

Even in silence, he could feel her presence. He turned to her, indeed he just wanted to turn away from all the thoughts that haunted him while staring at the lake. She was fully dressed now, but an undesirable images of the shapely legs beneath the skirt flashed in his mind and he struggled in a desperate battle to shove it away.

"I think it's time for me to leave. Thank you for saving me again this morning."

She said politely.

That wasn't true. He knew she said that only to save his pride. If she meant to pretend it, he could play the same way.

"I wish I don't have to hear that words from you ever again next time."

He kept any emotion from showing by turning his face into a cold mask.

"I'm not in the habit of saving a crazy woman repeatedly."

Ava resisted a smile curving on her lips. Strangely, she found his sardonic remarks was kind of ... amusing now.

"I think it's quite a harsh judgment, Your Grace, but I take no offense."

He never knew a little conversation could spark a great excitement like this. For the first time in many years, something made him feel like smiling. Not a polite smile nor an obliged smile, but a real smile. He clenched his jaw to deny it.

A sudden throbbing pain broke in and a painful frown escaped his face. She noticed it at once. He looked down at his bandaged hand. The strip was soaking wet. Suddenly he recalled the doctor said he should keep away the wound from water. He took off the strip until it was completely undone. His wounded flesh looked terribly ugly now. It didn't show any progress since the first time he got a treatment. The wound had not recovered a bit, had not felt any better until now. He suspected he was definitely going to lose his drawing hand literally, if it continued to lack in recovery. The doctor had mentioned that a severe intervention might be necessarily required.

He heard a soft gasp and just noticed she had advanced him.

"Your Grace, I suspect your wound has gotten infected, you must be suffering all the time!"

Suddenly her expression turned guilty.

"And... it shouldn't be in touch with water..."

She took his hand without asking for permission, too worry to bother with such things. He noticed it yet he didn't reject her.

"What did the doctor say about it? Did he say how long will it take to recover?"

"He couldn't tell since he is still observing the indications to measure how severe the infection is..."

A slight bitterness tinged his voice when he said in an indifferent tone.

"There's a possibility I will lose my hand if things get worse."

"No!" Her sudden cry startled them both. "It would never happen!"

Her eyes widened in shocked and her expression turned painful and frantic. He was amazed by the intensity of her reaction. Like she shared the same agony, like she suffered the same loss.

Suddenly a flash of thought brought him back to his senses. He was on the edge of falling into a bottomless pit. She had rolled him into her shore like a magic wave, just a little more touch, a little more time and he would lost in her ocean. He should bring it to an end.

"It would never happen to you."

She repeated the words, indeed she was trying to convince herself.

"It's nothing of your concern."

Suddenly he snatched his hand from hers, startled her out. For a brief moment, he had opened himself to her. Now he returned to his distant attitude.

"It's me who's going to lose my hand, it has nothing to do with you. What do you care?"

"It's all my fault. I will do anything..."

"What are you going to do?!" He cut in ruthlessly.

"I have the best doctors here to take care of this matter. I can afford the best doctors in the whole country. I don't need you to do anything. Besides, what can you do? Who do you think you are?"

She couldn't think of an answer. She didn't know either. He turned from her, staring at a distance over the lake.

"You have asked for leave some time ago. Why are you still here?"

Her heart aching, but not because of his cruel words. Her heart aching because of his pain. She turned around and left him, but she knew indeed she could never leave him, alone with his pain. She had to do something, she would do anything. Anything to get things right and to return everything that might lose to its place.