“It will be all right,” he comforted her. “I will go with you to Guerdley Cross. I will not leave you alone, I swear it.”
She grasped his tunic, forcing him to look her in the eye. She was so close to him that if William had stuck out his tongue, he would have licked her. Her beautiful face was coated with tears.
“Do something for me, please?”
“Anything at all, my lady.”
“Go to Brogan and tell him what happened. Tell him that he must stay away until I can think of something. I beg you, William. Please do this for me and I’ll never ask another favor again.”
His first reaction was to refuse. After everything they had just been through, now she wanted to pull William more deeply into it. But he was already in it. He had been from the beginning.
He sighed heavily. “Lady….”
“I beg you, William.”
“If I am discovered, my punishment shall be far worse than yours.”
“I know,” she murmured, gazing into his round blue eyes. “But I would not ask you if it was not the most important thing in the world to me. Please, William. I beseech you.”
“My lady, I cannot….”
“Please, William. Please do this for me.”
He swallowed hard, feeling like an idiot. It went against his better judgment, but he could not refuse her, not when her entire life was in upheaval. Not when he was so deeply in love with her.
“All right,” he said it so softly that she barely heard him. “Where is he?”
“If he is not in the barracks, then he must be at his mother’s bread shop, to the east of the Tower along the avenue that borders the training field.” It was the little bit of information that they had tried to force from her for the past fifteen hours, flowing from her lips so freely now. “If he is not either of those places, then I do not know. You will have to ask St. Alban de Sotheby, the old knight he rooms with at the barracks. Perhaps he will know.”
William didn’t say anymore. He knew he should not be doing this, but he couldn’t stand to see her so unhappy. He pulledher to unsteady feet and half-carried her from the room. She was so exhausted that by the time they entered the corridor, he swept her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way back to the apartments. By the time they reached the warm, lavish chambers, she was asleep against him. She was exhausted, and so was he.
Leaving Avalyn with her very sympathetic aunt and oblivious cousins, William made excuses and went about his duties. One duty in particular.
*
“St. Alban,” Brogansaid steadily. “What are you doing at my mother’s shop in the dead of night?”
The old man was in no mood for games or pleasantries. “Trouble, Brogan. Very big trouble. Where have you been?”
Brogan’s gaze moved between his stricken mother and the old man. “Out,” he said. “What trouble has happened?”
His mother sudden burst into sobs. “Ach sind, Brogan, die soldaten nachdem sie!”
Brogan looked at her. “What soldiers?”
“De Neville’s men,” St. Alban’s face was grim. “Brogan, what have you done? Where is Lady Avalyn?”
Brogan remained characteristically calm. He could see that he and Avalyn’s evening had not gone unnoticed and fear began to take hold in his belly. He suddenly very much wished he had not left her at the Tower.
“You will start from the beginning and tell me why you are here,” he said to St. Alban. “But first, I must get my daughter into bed.”
Mama Stark’s sobs instantly lessened in favor of blatant shock. Her big blue eyes widened to the point of bursting when Brogan shifted the bundle in his arms and a sleeping little facecame into view. Tears forgotten altogether, Mama Starke raced to him, nearly bowling him over in her haste.
“Brogan, what is this?” she demanded, though not unhappily. “Was haben sie?”
Brogan gazed down at the child, a smile on his lips. What he said was loud enough for St. Alban to hear. “This is Lake du Brant d’Aurilliac. She is my daughter and Avalyn’s daughter. We plan to be wed tonight.”
St. Alban closed his eyes in sorrow, shaking his head and turning away as Mama Starke ignored the implications of that statement other than the fact that Brogan now had a daughter. Several hours of abject terror, caused by St. Alban’s appearance and explanation, were now vanished. She reached out a fat hand and touched the pale little cheek.
