“Oh, my lord,” Margaret worried, trying to help. “No good can come out of this! You will fall and break your neck!”
“I will not fall. Now use that rope to tie me on.”
She grabbed for the rope that had bound him and with Simon’s help followed his instruction on how to secure him to his saddle. Unfortunately, he couldn’t lift any of the swords Rauf had brought back from the castle, so he couldn’t protect his two friends. He couldn’t leave them here alone. He was unsure if he could fight and was acting rash, thoughtless. His brothers warned him against it. He didn’t want to get Lismoor’s seamstress and brother killed, so he asked their aid in helping him down.
He had to wait, for their sake.
“I will use the time wisely,” he promised and walked for a bit around the camp.
She went back to cleaning and Simon stayed close by his side while he practiced lifting his blade. At first, the pain was intense and he wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing. But then the pain ebbed and after another twenty hours, ten to work and ten to sleep, he carefully gained his mount. He lifted his blade and swung and a flash of pain shot through him and reminded him why he was doing this.
He had to keep her from DeAvoy.
“Gain your saddles,” he told them. “I am going to take you to safety.”
“I want to stay with you, my lord.”
“Now, Margaret—”
“I will not separate from you,” Simon argued. “That was not part of the plan.”
He could argue that he hadn’t agreed to any part of any plan, but what did it matter? He nodded, allowing them to stay with him. He reminded them of the dangers. He wasn’t sure he could fight.
They nodded and they set off north. They rode hard throughout the morning, and then stopped to eat fruit and drink water. Margaret talked about her capture on her way to the village. She had seen what happened to Molly, and she ran. Nicholas was glad she had. She told him how Rauf had come for her as he promised and then they went to his cart. Rauf wouldn’t go without him.
“He is brave and was part of Cain’s army for many years,” Nicholas assured her. “I will make certain that what he did today is acknowledged.”
She nodded and then they rode toward Alnwick.
Julianna sat bya window in a huge set of rooms shown to her two days ago by two happy, young maids named Lizbeth and Cicily. She pushed open the shutters and looked down into the inner bailey. She wasn’t at Alnwick. And she wasn’t at Bamburgh. The viscount had told her it was his cousin’s castle in Edlingham. It was more like a garrisoned manor house with a small keep and a tower than a castle. Bamburgh hadn’t taken her to Alnwick. That was all that mattered. He promised he would help her and she was beginning to believe him.
She looked out over the yard and enjoyed the wind in her hair. She liked her time alone, when she could think about Elias and how he was sleeping. She thought of everything except for the one who mattered most to her.
She couldn’t think of Nicholas without weeping and fighting off hopelessness. She wanted to see his face again, hear his voice again, feel his arms around her, his mouth upon her.
The viscount had sent letters of request to rescue Lord Rothbury from the hands of Phillip DeAvoy to three former soldiers of King Edward, each with a small regiment of men at his command. He also wrote a letter to Kind Edward telling him all about Phillip’s crimes. All they could do now was wait for any word. Bamburgh had refused to go free Nicholas himself if she was anywhere near DeAvoy. He also refused to leave her here alone. So he hired men to do it.
A knock came at her door.
“Enter.” She turned as the door opened and smiled when she saw the viscount. “Any news?”
“Nothing yet, but these things take time.”
What things? Julianna thought fitfully. Finding out if the person you love more than life is dead or not? She turned back to the window.
“You have not eaten,” he pointed out, looking down at her untouched breakfast tray.
“I cannot eat when I do not know the fate of the man I love,” she murmured, staring at a stand of treetops in the distance.
“From what you have told me, your earl sounds like a strong, resilient man. I am sure he still lives.”
Julianna finally turned to him and smiled. He was kind for trying to reassure her. Kind for hiring men, which did not come freely, to find and rescue Nicholas. For hiding her here instead of taking her to Alnwick.
“My lord,” she began. She wanted to tell him—
“Louis.”
“Louis,” she accepted with a slightly warmer smile. “I wish to thank you for all you are doing for Nicholas.”
