“You took a girl without knowing anything about her, saving her, at least you claim as much,” she whispered. “What does your heart say about that?”
“My heart—”
“And before you answer,” she interrupted. "Remember your head is not your heart. What does your heart say?”
Dominique exhaled. Truly, his head told him he was the worst sort of human being, that taking her defied all logic. Selfishness drove him to do what he did. Yet as he was thinking on it and as she corrected him, it was as if his heart burst forth with the correct answer—the real answer.
“My heart says there was no other way. It says the moment I laid eyes on you, the rhythm of my heart forever changed…and aligned itself with yours.”
If his response shocked her, it was impossible to tell, as she continued in the same fashion. “Relax, listen to your breathing, forget your thoughts, listen to the music of the trees. The music I know you hear. It sings to you, pulls you. Dominique, what does your mind say about me?”
“You said to listen to my heart.”
“Answer the question.”
Dominique sighed and hung his head. Eyes still closed, he answered. “My mind says I don’t deserve you. That you’ll run away screaming the minute you see me for who I really am. My mind cannot separate my need to have you and my selfishness for doing so.”
“And your heart?”
With a shudder Dominique turned to face her. “It sings your name.”
Chapter Fifteen
I fear losing control. I fear the day when I hold nothing back and there is nobody there to catch me when I fall. But most of all, I fear that someone will be there, they will catch me, and in the end will know all of my secrets, all of my lies. In the end I would rather fall, for then I would feel no shame in my lies.
—The Diary of Dominique Maksylov
Isabelle felt tears well in the corners of her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to remove the desperate urge she felt to weep for the man in her arms. For the vulnerability he had just shown.
She reached out to grab his hand. He pulled back, but she pursued, finally able to grasp at his gloves. She prayed her eyes said trust me, when she gazed into his. Fear was marked on his every feature, from the grim set of his lips, to the pale color of his face. Gradually his eyes closed. Black lashes against the perfect lines of his cheekbones. He exhaled, Isabelle pulled and then a branch snapped in the distance.
“Get down!” Dominique hissed, pulling her behind one of the trees between two large bushes.
Two French soldiers meandered into the clearing. They were armed, but discussing a recent fight that had broken out amongst the soldiers, nothing important was said. Isabelle’s heart slammed in her chest. Surely they were safe! After all, they were at least a few days' ride from Brussels. And Dominique would never knowingly put them in danger. She glanced at Dominique, he was frozen in place, did he too understand French? He had to, for the minute the Frenchman cursed the English, Dominique’s hand tightened on her waist.
Swallowing the dryness in her throat, she glanced at Dominique. He looked ready to attack, ready to kill. His eyes darkened as the men neared the tree where they hid, and then they were gone.
Isabelle began to shake in Dominique’s arms. He held her close and kissed her head. “Are you all right?”
“Y-yes. I thought we were safe here! Heavens! What if they would have seen the horses?”
Dominique grimaced. “Yes well, we were fortunate that they didn’t notice much of anything, we weren’t exactly concealed.”
“How did you know there was danger? It could have been an animal, or even Hunter.”
Dominique actually blushed and looked away. “We should return.”
Isabelle put her hands on her hips. “Not until you tell me. What are you, some kind of spy? Is that how you and Hunter are friends? You both work for the Crown? Is that just another secret you’re keeping from me?”
Dominique’s face turned murderous. Isabelle backed up, knowing she'd pushed him too far, and so soon after the progress made!
“I am not a spy,” he spat. “And if you must know, I am a trifle mad, at least that’s what you’re going to think.”
“I would never.”
“Save me your pity. Yes, you will.” Dominique mounted his horse, not giving his aid for Isabelle to mount her own. “I heard the music.”
“The music?” Isabelle repeated dryly. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Dominique let out a heavy sigh. “You wouldn’t. You don’t have my curse. I hear….” He swore and took a deep breath. “The reason I took you when I did was because I heard music. It was the same music that haunted me when tragedy struck my heart as a boy. And when the twig snapped, I heard it again.”
“So you…hear… music.” Isabelle had to say it aloud to believe it herself.
“Yes, I believe that’s been established.”
“And it tells you things.”
Dominique cursed and stopped his horse. “It doesn’t speak to me. Well, I guess in a way it does. Just...never mind.”
“When you saw me, when you took me, you said the music changed, were you…” Isabelle swallowed the dryness in her throat. “Were you worried for my welfare? Was I truly in danger?”
Dominique shifted on his saddle and looked away, before digging his heels into the horse’s flesh.
“No…Dominique, wait.” She pressed her boots into the horse's sides to catch up to his trot. “I’m just trying to understand.”
Dominique laughed bitterly. “You will never understand. Nobody will ever understand me. Don’t you get it?” He urged the horse faster; she increased the pressure in her heels to keep up. “No matter how many walls you break down, no matter how many lessons you give me. You will never understand my pain, you will never be close enough to understand what haunts me.”
“I want to be.” Her voice trembled.
“No, no you don’t. You want to fix me; you think you can heal what’s been broken, what’s been so utterly destroyed. But you cannot redeem the damned, Isabelle. No matter how hard you wish it.” His words were just above a whisper when he said, “I thank you for trying. And as I have shown you, I will try as well, but please, do not continue to wish for things that will never be. I will never be more than I am right now. You must accept that.”
Isabelle nodded as she watched him gallop off. He didn’t hear her say I do, nor did he see the slippery tears that ran down her cold cheeks. It was more than the physical scars that kept him so tortured, though she hadn’t seen any evidence of such in all her days with him. But she decided then and there that she was going to discover what haunted him, even if it killed her.