Voices came from the direction of the solar as men began to emerge, out into the foyer, and Annaleigh startled at the sound. The spell between them was broken and she suddenly darted off before War could stop her. But it didn’t matter.
She may have been gone, but the memory of her lingered.
So did an inkling of interest.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She was supposedto be asleep, but she couldn’t seem to manage it.
The stars were bright tonight, so bright that they formed an iridescent blanket across the night sky. Annaleigh was watching them from the window of her bower, feeling the gentle night breeze caress her face, remembering that her mother had told her, once, that each star was the soul of a dead warrior. Over the centuries, there had been thousands. Perhaps even millions.
It was a sky awash with the dead.
She didn’t know why she should think of that other than the fact that War Herringthorpe could have very easily been among those stars had she not helped him in his moment of need. He’d thanked her for it, which was surprising. That wasn’t something she had expected out of his mouth. And the way he had looked at her…
Her stomach still trembled to think of it.
But she’d run from him like a fool. Overwhelmed with seeing him again, overwhelmed with the secret they shared, she’d spouted off at the mouth and then she’d run from him. She’d run straight up to her chamber, which was where she was now.
She didn’t even attend the feast that night, though she could hear it from her bedchamber. The noise from the great hall carried. She hoped– and assumed– that Jordan and Jemma were too busy with the guests to worry over her, perhaps each assuming the other one knew where she was or what she was doing.
But no one knew.
She didn’t even know.
Annaleigh sat in the built-in window seat of the large window overlooking the entry, four stories below, pondering this particular moment in her life. The great hall was a separate structure, built into the wall of the inner ward, and she had been hearing voices and singing all night. Smoke from the two enormous hearths drifted into her window. But still, she sat, thinking on War Herringthorpe’s unexpected appearance and how she had reacted.
Howhehad reacted.
He seemed as surprised as she had been.
A knock on the door startled her from her sleepless thoughts. She was dressed in a sleeping shift, a white woolen garment that tied around the neck with long sleeves. Climbing off the window seat, she quickly collected her shawl, pulling it around her shoulders for modesty as she went to the door.
“Who comes?” she whispered loudly.
“Open the door, Annie.”
It was Jordan. Annaleigh threw the bolt and yanked the sticky door open to reveal Jordan dressed in a fine blue garment, her hair artfully arranged and a proper veil woven into her hair that defined her as a wealthy noblewoman. She had dressed well for the feast that night, but her expression was one of concern as she fixed on her young cousin.
“What’s amiss, lass?” Jordan said, pushing into the chamber. “No one has seen ye all night. Are ye ill?”
Annaleigh didn’t want to tell her the truth. “Aye,” she said, her hand first to her head, then quickly on her belly. “I… I’ve had a bellyache since earlier in the day. I dinna want tae trouble ye with it.”
Jordan put a hand on her forehead, feeling for a fever. “Ye’re not warm,” she said. “Did ye eat something that dinna agree with ye?”
Annaleigh nodded. “I must have,” she said. “I’m very sorry tae have disappointed ye today. I wanted tae keep tae my duties, but I… couldna.”
Jordan put her arm around her shoulders and shepherded her back over to the bed. “Ye must sleep,” she said. “Get intae bed and try tae sleep. If yer belly still hurts by morning, I’ll send for the physic.”
“Nay,” Annaleigh said quickly. “’Tis not necessary. I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning.”
“We’ll see.”
“Did William’s guests settle in?”
“Aye,” Jordan said, forcing her into bed and pulling up the coverlet. “Those who are not in the hall are already in bed.”
“Did ye put Sir Warwick in the keep?”
