“My fault. He listened to me. He died doing what I asked. I’ve suffered every day since. Maybe that is my punishment for causing his death.”
No.
The attack was his enemy’s fault and his.
Yes, he’d headed toward London to make her happy and to protect her from her fears for her parents and their disappointments, but the decision had been his.
Wycliff was a wiser man. Security outweighed everything. He’d do anything to keep her safe.
“I’m your friend, Mrs. Wilky. What happened was the fault of the evil men.”
She held out her hand. “My spectacles. I wish to see you change my mind.”
He put them in her hand.
After balancing them on that button nose, she squinted and leaned into him. “Well friend, what happened to your face? I don’t think my physician punched you. Or did he? Is that what you warrant for being nosy?”
“No. I typically get people to tell me what I want without these consequences.”
“I don’t have your special powers, my lord. I don’t need them. People whisper just loud enough to ensure I hear their horrible thoughts.”
“Hear mine. You deserve better.”
She shrugged. “Who hurt you, Wycliff?”
“Someone who vented his anger because his crimes have caught up to him. He’s angry because I won’t help him. He’ll not do it again.”
“Well, Lord Wycliff, I won’t punch you in the eye for being nosy.”
“There’s that.”
She reached to the ground again, but her pile was empty. “Chris will have to get me more. I like flat stones.
Chris…Christopher. An older child who could gather stones. Possibly his son.
“Mrs. Wilky, let us get on with the introductions.”
He stood and helped her up, slipping her hand firmly into his. “I’m with you, my dear, like a knight to his queen. I’ll make sure that you are believed. I won’t rest until everyone knows that Ruth Wilky is a truth teller.”
“Queen,hmm.” She wiped at her long lashes, then took his hand and kissed it. “Stop letting people hit you.”
That was unexpected, such an open expression of affection. She still had that power to confuse him. “Let’s find your parents so I can tell them of the goodness of Adam Wilky.”
“No, let’s walk a little more.”
More time to prepare was good. He needed to be convincing. There’d be no chance to win Ruth if he failed.
Chapter Fourteen
A Widow’s Friend
Wycliff had my hand and he guided me away from the still pond waters, but my soul was anxious. I was not restored.
The baron was smooth, not taking my baiting comments, allowing me to be honest about how I felt about Adam. He took all my hurt and sorrow about his cousin and remained sweet.
I couldn’t share all my truths—that Adam was the hole in my chest, the space where a heart should be. I’ll never feel toward anyone the way I felt for him.
This was for the best. That deep kind of love had too many risks. I’d never gamble like that again. My son needed his mother to be reasonable and smart, not a dreamer.
