Her heart pounding, she moved to peer through a dark split in the wall, but all she could see was the white cloud of her own breath. The horses had drawn to a halt at the head of the lane, and she could hear the faint shout of voices, of instructions given. And then a single horse clattered out of the streaky darkness, slowing as it approached the chapel. It circled cautiously as its rider surveyed his surroundings. He was tall, made bulky with his chain mail, and his head was otter sleek because of the steel helmet.
Radulf. Lily knew it by his spare, confident movements as much as by the size and shape of him. He was as familiar to her as herself. She pressed her palms against the damp wood on either side of her peephole, and heard the soft groan of unstable timbers. Alice’s gelding, hearing and smelling the other horses, whickered softly.
“Hush,” Lily murmured. “Soft now.”
More sounds, more horses approaching, a sharp whinny. Lily stiffened and watched as Radulf turned to face the new arrivals. At the head of the lane there came the deadly scrape of swords leaving their scabbards, and then a female voice cried out, “Hold!” A moment later a lone rider passed Lily’s cottage, moving to join Radulf.
That it was a woman was plain enough, despite the all-covering cloak and hood. As she reached Radulf she tossed back her hood and for a moment was lit up by a flicker of distant lightning. It was Anna, and she was smiling.
“Radulf!” she cried, her melodious voice shot through with triumph. Lady Anna’s mount tossed its head uneasily, but she urged it closer to Radulf’s stallion. “I knew you would come!”
“Aye, I am here.” Radulf’s husky voice was more difficult to hear.
Lily’s eyes widened. He did not sound like a lover. There was anger in his voice, and steel.
Something like hope stirred within Lily, her breath quickening as she pressed closer to the wall.
Lady Anna looked up at the sky, from which soft rain still fell. “Is the chapel open?”
“It appears not, but there will be shelter by the wall.” Radulf dismounted, and reached up to help her down. She leaned into his arms, her body sliding against his as her feet touched ground. Radulf stepped back so quickly she all but fell, her hand going to his arm and fastening there.
She laughed. “You could not stay away, my Radulf,” she said, still supremely confident. “You remember, just as I do. I have never forgotten.”
Radulf stared down at her, and Lily could see how stiff his shoulders had become, how straight his back. She ached with his tension, his pain. Did he struggle against the need to pull the Lady Anna into his arms? To kiss her fiercely and wildly and make up for all the years they had lost?
Hope dwindled once more.
“There is shelter over here,” he said, and turned toward the chapel. Anna’s hand slipped from his arm and hung a moment in space, irresolute; then she followed meekly to the place beneath the eaves. They moved together, the shadows joining them, concealing them. Their voices were now too low to be heard, for the rain had grown heavy again, drumming furiously on the roof.
Lily groaned in frustration. With all that she had done, now she could not hear what they were saying! Yet was there any need to hear, when Radulf leaned so close to Anna and her face was turned up to his, her body seeming to quiver with need?
They had been lovers and would be again.
Lily’s marriage would be an empty sham, just as it had been with Vorgen. But worse, because all she and Radulf had was desire, and when that desire began to fade—it might have done so already— Lily would have nothing. Anna held his heart and had no intention of releasing it.
After what seemed a long time, Lady Anna moved away from the wall. She walked toward her mount with a quick, hurrying step and even before Radulf could follow her, was reaching toward the saddle. He caught her up and tossed her easily into her seat. She clung there, head bowed, obviously under the influence of some great emotion.
“You say you have never forgotten,” Radulf said, raising his voice above the rain. “I wish to God I could!”
There was agony in his words, and it twisted inside Lily. Her hands fell limp to her sides. If Radulf loved the woman so much, so unbearably, then there truly was no hope. She must accept that he would never be hers.
Anna lifted her head and stared at the man at her side, and then she snatched up the reins. She said something too low for Lily to hear. A vow perhaps, a promise for tomorrow? And then Radulf also spoke, but now the rain was much too heavy and his words were inaudible. He seemed to speak for a long time.
A tear slipped down Lily’s cheek, tasting salty against her lips. She had reached up to wipe it away when Anna gave a single, almost inhuman cry. Shocked, shaking, Lily pressed her hands to her mouth, eyes fixed to the scene unfolding before her.
Anna dragged up the reins, forcing her horse onto its back legs. Lily gasped, thinking that the emotion had been too great for her and that she meant to ride wildly from the scene. But no, Anna gave another cry and dug her heels viciously into her horse’s sides. It sprang forward, straight at Radulf.
He leaped to the side, probably saving his life, but the horse still knocked against his shoulder.
He was spun around by the force, falling to the ground. Lily screamed and, stumbling over fallen debris and splashing through the downpour, ran out of the cottage.
Anna had wheeled her mount around. Another lightning flash showed her face. Her lips were drawn back, her jaw rigid. She clearly intended to set her horse at the prone man, to ride over the top of him.
“Radulf!” Lily cried as she picked up her skirts and sprinted.
Anna hesitated, looking around. The mounted men waiting at the head of the lane pounded to the rescue, muddying Lily as they passed. Before Anna could finish what she had begun, they had cut her off and surrounded her.
She was panting, cornered. “Let me go!” she screamed. “I am the wife of Lord Kenton and I demand you release me!”
