“Oh, my child,” Lady Ruth says again. She’s crying. “My child.”
“I’m not—”
She pulls away from me and takes my face in her hands, like she’s looking for something there. “I’ve waited so long for you. Where is your mother?”
“I’m sorry?” I whisper.
“Come!” She pulls me out of the dining room.
“Lady Ruth—” I say, letting her drag me. I look back at Baz, but he just shrugs, as confused as I am. He and Jamie follow us up the stairs, to Lady Ruth’s bedroom, to the shrine she keeps by the window.
Jamie’s candle burns bright.
But her daughter’s candle has finally sputtered out. A thread of smoke curls above it.
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
What have I done?
85
LADY RUTH
Lucy.
Her candle.
She’s gone.
Or perhaps . . .
Simon Snow is standing before me, holding my husband’s sword. I can see Lucy in the set of his shoulders. And Davy in the set of his eyes. Why didn’t I see it before?
Lucy is gone. But perhaps . . . perhaps she let go.
I told her to bring the child home. I prayed and pleaded.Bring it home. Let me help you keep it safe.
And here he is.
Here he must be.
My Lucy’s child, my flesh and blood.
My Simon.
Lucy.
86
BAZ
“I’m sorry!” Simon is looking frantically between Lady Salisbury and the candle.
“It’s all right,” I say, trying to get to him.
But Lady Ruth is hugging him again. “It’syou.You’ve finally comehome.”
“This is a mistake—” Simon insists.
