Sweyn hesitated, before answering, “He is seeking his brother, lady. They have unfinished business.”
Doubts assailed her once more, but she forced them back. Unfinished business could mean anything. And Ivo had looked so sad, as if more than anything in the world he wanted to find Miles and make up the rift between them. Briar hugged her arms about herself, shivering in the cold. She would feel the same, if she were at war with one of her sisters. She would be grateful to anyone who could help her repair the damage. ‘Twas as well she had not told Ivo after all. Aye, she was doing the right thing by agreeing to meet Miles tomorrow.
She was certain of it.
Briar was still certain next morning, when she set out on foot. Her sickness had eased, and she told herself she was actually beginning to feel her old self again. Strong, sure, and determined. Ivo needed her help—there was something very wrong between him and his brother. Briar knew she was doing the right thing. This wasn’t deceit, not at all.
She had been up since Terce rang out over York, thinking of Ivo’s words to her last night. They had touched her deep. She wanted so much to help him, to reconcile him with his brother. Aye, Briar longed to heal the anguish she sensed in him. And if that meant meeting Miles behind his back, then so be it.
The day was fine, though cold. Briar followed the line of wooden ramparts upon their earthen walls, broken only by the heavily guarded bars that gave entry to the city. A vendor was selling parcels of cheese and herbs wrapped in crisp pastry. They smelled good, and suddenly Briar was aware of how hungry she was. Another sign that her sickness was passing, and her babe was thriving. She handed over her coin, and munched as she walked.
Over by the Minster, where Ivo had kissed her and she had pretended to make him part of her plot, the carpenters and stonemasons were hard at work, restoring the damaged church. Briar walked by. There was no plot anymore, unless it be to solve Anna’s murder so that she and Briar’s father could finally rest in peace. Her concerns were for Ivo now. Ivo, who was clearly in desperate need.
She did not ask herself why that was. Why her whole life had become focused on making Ivo happy, when before she had claimed to be using him only for her own ends. That was unimportant, she told herself blithely. What was important was meeting Miles. Whatever he might tell, she must listen. Ivo was a good man—she truly believed that. Whatever he had done in the past did not matter, not now, not to her.
They would look upon it, and then put it behind them.
Briar took a deep, sustaining breath, and kept walking.
“Where is Briar?”
Mary looked up at Ivo’s question, and then down again as swiftly. Ivo frowned, flicking a glance at Sweyn. Sweyn shrugged.
“Mary?” Ivo repeated, stepping closer. The girl’s cheeks were bright red, and her fingers clutched at the cloth she was mending as though she would strangle it. “Do you know where Briar is, Mary?”
She sighed and looked up again. The guilty ex-pression in her eyes made him uneasy. Why should sweet Mary be guilty about anything?
“I think she’s gone to meet someone,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Ivo, truly I am. I would have stopped her, but she slipped out while I slept.”
Ivo sank down on his knees before her, and Mary’s eyes widened in surprise. He caught her hands in his, trying not to hurt her. A frantic pulse was beating in his jaw, and he had to blink away the terror he knew was in his eyes.
“Mary,” he said, his voice trembling, “who has she gone to meet? Who is this person, Mary?”
“Ivo, you are frightening her!” Sweyn was behind him, but Ivo ignored his friend’s admonishment. There was no time for it.
“I…” She glanced to Sweyn, and back to Ivo.
She took a steadying breath, and straightened her shoulders very like Briar was wont to do when she was preparing herself for something unpleasant. “I don’t know who it was, Ivo. He was in the alcove, off the hall, last night, and she spoke with him there. I wanted to go home, and I came to fetch her and...”
She flicked another look at Sweyn, the color returning to her cheeks.
“Go on, Mary,” Ivo insisted.” ‘Us important we know.”
“I listened, a little. They spoke of meeting today, at my father’s house. That is where she has gone. She made an assignation. Ivo, I am so sorry.”
Her fingers squeezed his, but Ivo did not notice. He was frozen in place, slowly being suffocated by a sense of terrible foreboding.
“You do not know it was Miles,” Sweyn said sharply, pressing his shoulder. “Ivo?”
“Did you see this man?” Ivo asked Mary, and his voice was not his own. “Did you see what he looked like?”
Mary swallowed, frightened now. “I did, just for a moment. It was dark, but... he was tall and dark-haired, and handsome, too. But I did not like him. There was something about him, something cold. Mayhap it was his eyes. They were pale and even when he smiled, they did not...”
She had barely finished the words when Ivo was on his feet, brushing by Sweyn and running for the door. Cursing, Sweyn ran after him, shouting orders to Radulf’s men, who waited outside.
“Watch her! Do not allow anyone near her!”
Mary stood in the doorway, her mouth agape as they rode off.
