“What were you thinking, my lady?”
She cast him a sidelong glance, thinking that she was committed to finishing her bold sentence. There was just something about Brogan that made her feel alive and warm, and she did not want to lose that feeling. The thought of never seeing him again when she left the Tower on the morrow was becoming increasingly distressing.
“I was thinking on taking in an entertainment instead,” she said after a moment. “I thought you might like to accompany me.”
His eyebrows lifted. “An entertainment?”
“Aye. A play.”
Brogan had been to one play in his life; it had been complicated and he did not understand what was going on. Buthe would have gone with her to sit before the Devil himself if that was what she wanted; anything just to be near her.
“I would like that,” he said. “What play?”
“I do not know. But I have been told that the Rose and Thistle Playhouse has performances every night of the week. Since it is my last night here, I would like to see one.”
The thought of seeing her again that night brought lightness to his heart and a rush to his head. “And you shall,” he said. “When shall I come for you?”
She laughed softly. “Nay, Brogan, this is clandestine. I must sneak out of the feast in order to attend. Just meet me at the Playhouse. Have you ever heard of it? Do you know where it is?”
“You should not walk unescorted to the Playhouse,” he said firmly. “I will not hear of it.”
She frowned. “Well, you cannot call on me.”
“I can stand outside of the Beauchamp Tower and wait for you.”
She shook her head exaggeratedly, an almost teasing gesture. “You cannot, silly boy, because I will not be there.”
“Where will you be?”
“Near the Martin Tower. There is a large banquet hall on the first floor south of the turret.”
He nodded. “I know it. I shall wait for you just outside.”
They had made the turn onto the avenue that would take them straight to the Tower. Avalyn wasn’t quite so anxious to reach it and neither was Brogan. Their pace slowed, though neither one was aware of it. They were simply enjoying walking together.
“Brogan?”
“Aye?”
“What were you doing on the bridge last night?”
He looked at her, startled anew by the question. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “For a few reasons, I suppose. For one, it was nearly pitch-black last night, barely a moon, so I would assume you weren’t standing there observing the beauty of the night. Secondly, I remember racing for the bridge and I remember my horse veering off, enough to dislodge me. And I remember sailing through the air before everything went black. But if I went up and over the guides and still managed to knock you in, that means you had to be at least standing up on the guides. I couldn’t have knocked you in the river had you been standing on the footbridge.”
He didn’t say anything for a few long moments. He had never expected that question to come from her. She was more astute than he gave her credit for, reasoning out the disturbing circumstances of their meeting. As much as he was inclined not to tell her what he had been doing on the bridge, there was something about Avalyn that touched him deep, as if she could look into his eyes and know all about him. He didn’t have to say a word. There was a connection, and there was an attraction.
It was uncharacteristic of him to reveal himself to anyone. But he had already done it once to Avalyn and she had respected him. Still, he was reluctant to tell her of his darkest weakness. He was afraid she would think less of him and he did not want to risk it.
“I was up on the guides,” he admitted. “I was… I was looking at the water. I was thinking.”
She gazed up at him and he swore those golden eyes could see everything that was in his heart. He met her gaze, but he knew that she was aware he was lying. He felt like a weak little lad, gazing into the most beautiful face he had ever seen and being terrified she would distain him if she knew the truth.
After several long moments, she finally looked away. “Oh,” she said. “Whatever the reason, ’twas a good thing you were there. Otherwise, I would have surely died.”
Brogan was relieved that she did not press him. He began to think that perhaps God had put him on that bridge for a reason that night, only not for the reason he thought. He believed he had gone there to end his life. What he had ended up doing was saving one. His fingers around her hand tightened.
As they walked in cozy silence, a shadow suddenly fell across their path. Avalyn looked up to see her uncle’s knight, William Inglesbatch, gazing down at them astride his big red charger. She came to a halt, startled at his appearance. She knew, in that instance, that she would have a good deal of explaining to do. If William had found her, they must be looking for her, and the warm situation of a simple stroll with Brogan suddenly turned dark and tense.
