"He has some secrets. Several times when I approached his conversations with Henry, one of your husband's men, he would stop speaking."
"That is not enough, Simon. What about Jervais? Anything that ties them together?"
"I've not seen Burke give him any attention. And Jervais has done nothing untoward in the last week."
"There must be something. Has he done anything that appears to harm Lyndon?"
She needed some sort of proof that Burke plotted against her, or Royce, before she dared tell her husband.
Simon shifted. "Not exactly, though there is one thing I found odd. Three times, he disappeared for several hours."
"Neglecting his duties?" This could be something useful.
Simon shook his head. "I cannot say, but twice I saw him ride in from the southern edge of the forest. But he'd headed north when he departed. When he returned, he appeared agitated. Kept looking around to see if anyone noticed him. His horse was in a lather, he'd been ridden hard and fast."
"Something to do with the rebels?"
"I don't know. I want to follow him next time."
Gillian paced, considering Simon's words. Leaving in one direction, returning from another wasn't enough to raise alarms, but she sensed this was crucial.
"Very well. But be careful. If he's consorting with traitors, he'll do anything to keep from being discovered."
"I will use every caution. We'll uncover something soon."
"Yes, well until we have some proof of Burke's wrongdoings, we cannot tell Royce. Mayhap by the time he returns from London." She hugged her brother. "Thank you. Now, go prepare for supper. I'm famished and wish to find Royce so we may eat."
***
Sunlight filtering through the shutters woke Gillian. She stretched, finding herself alone. Just at the moment she realized the day marked her husband's departure from Lyndon, a large wave of nausea rolled over her. She flung back the bedcovers and hurried to the washbasin. The sickness had come upon her so fast; she had barely enough time to reach the basin before emptying her stomach.
Weak and shaky, she slumped on the floor, willing strength back into her limbs. She'd thought once she'd returned from Shrewsbury, the memory of the execution growing more distant, the sickness would go away. When she finally regained enough strength to stand, she strode to the door and called for her maid. If only Royce hadn't insisted Edith bed down in the great hall with the others. Then again, she had no wish for the woman to witness the carnal games her husband liked to play. At the recollection of last night, heat slithered along her spine. She would miss him in their bed most of all. A month. He would be gone only a month. The time would surely pass quickly.
Once dressed, she hurried to the hall, dismayed to see the tables had already been cleared. She had no desire for food, but feared Royce had already left. At the sound of her name, she turned, relieved to see her husband, fully dressed in his mail, helm in the crook of his arm, standing by the doors.
Her smile would not be contained as she made her way toward him. He drew her close and slid his lips across hers in a gentle yet, soul-searing kiss. Again, the realization of how much she'd long for him dampened her mood. 'Twas not fair he must leave when they finally had reached an accord in their marriage, one that gave her hope for a happy future.
"I will miss you," she said when he drew away.
"And I, you." He gave her a smile and ran a finger along her cheek. "I will return anon."
She nodded and hugged him, wishing she could stay in his arms like this forever. A cough beside them drew her from her reverie. Burke stood at attention. When Gillian met his dark eyes, she suppressed an apprehensive shudder. Despite her husband's assurances, misgivings rose again.
"Ah, Burke. You will follow the countess' orders, and rely on her as well. I am depending on you and Simon to keep my home and my lady safe."
The delight bubbling through her at his words made her smile. She turned, Simon approaching.
"The king is ready, my lord."
Her brother looked happy and Gillian supposed Lady Madelaine had something to do with that. She recalled the queen's assurances that arrangements for a wedding would commence upon her and Edward's return to London. Gillian looked forward to attending court.
"I must go," Royce said. He pressed another kiss to her lips and released her.
She nodded, the burn of tears growing stronger. She followed him out of the hall and down the stairs, across the bailey to where the king and his train waited. Edward sat tall in the saddle, clearly impatient judging from his scowl. Royce mounted.
"My lord, wait!" Gillian grabbed his leg. She pulled a ribbon from her hair and handed it to him. She urged him to lean down. He did, eyeing her curiously.
"You give me a favor?"
