Mercy pulled back. “I forgot you came to Dunford.”
“It’s good to see you,” Father Stephen said. He glanced at Richard. “I hadn’t heard you re-married.”
“No,” Richard and Mercy protested together.
“I am escorting her on her journey,” Richard clarified, glancing at Mercy. It was the truth.
“Please don’t ask any further questions, Father,” Mercy pleaded.
Father Stephen stared at her for a long moment before giving her a nod and a warm grin. “You are both welcome here. I’ve known Mercy for a long time, and I trust her.” He looked at Richard.
Richard drew himself up. He didn’t know the Father, and while it was obvious Mercy trusted him, Richard did not. He wasn’t sure whether to tell him the truth of who he was, or lie.
Mercy hooked her arm through his. “This is Richard.”
Her touch surprised him and sent an instant jolt through his body. Even though he was angry with her, his heart quickened at her touch.
Father Stephen nodded.
“One more thing,” Mercy said as they walked toward the back door. “No one must know we are here.”
Father Stephen smiled. “Of course not.”
The cloister was a separate building near the church. It housed Father Stephen and visiting dignitaries. Luckily, there was only Father Stephen there at the moment. Mercy and Richard were given separate rooms and a warm meal. After they retired for the evening, Mercy lay on the straw mattress, staring into the darkness. It was the first time that day she was alone. Immediately, guilt settled around her like a rough blanket. She could not rest until Kit was with her, until she found him. She pushed back her fears to concentrate on what to do next. But the only thing she could think of in the dark was Kit. Where was he? What was he doing? What were they doing to him?
Frustrated and scared, she sat up as dark images danced in her mind. She had to find him! She couldn’t wait here, sleeping, relaxing. Her son was in danger! She threw the blanket aside and stood. She paced, clenching and unclenching her hands. Despair rose inside her. She had failed him. She hadn’t been able to protect him anymore than Abbey had her son. She clenched her teeth against the rush of uselessness that crested inside her.
With a soft cry, she rushed from the room into the corridor. Darkness. Disorientation. She walked down the hallway, down the stairs to the room they had eaten in. The small hearth still gave off warmth. She sat in a chair before it and stared into the dying flames. Was she selfish for wanting her son to stay with her? Would she be punished in the afterlife? She didn’t care. The only thing she cared about was Kit. She couldn’t help thinking that if the bishop was truly doing God’s work with the children, why couldn’t they see them or know where they were? Why did he keep it a secret? Why did he take them?
She and Kit had never been apart since the day he was born. Was he crying? Was he needing her? Mercy put her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob.
“Mercy?”
She whirled to find a shadow in the doorway. The red flickering light of the fire washed over Richard, giving him a rosy glow.
“Why are you not sleeping?”
“I can’t sleep.” She turned back to the fire.
Richard pulled up a chair beside her. “You should really try. You will need your strength.”
“What are you doing up?”
“I heard you.”
She looked at him. The firelight touched his cheeks and she remembered the fever he had endured the first night she had seen him. He looked so much better. The swelling was almost completely gone from his eye. It was as though her Eoos was gone and in his place was this stranger she didn’t know. She needed Eoos. She wondered if he had risen with the intent to leave. She looked back at the fire. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Sit beside you?”
“Look for Kit.”
“No. I don’t. But I am.”
“Why?”
He gazed into the fire thoughtfully. “I like Kit. It troubles me that he might be in danger.”
Mercy felt a wave of terror rise inside her. “What kind of danger?” Her voice trembled.
