Page 94
Part of her began to weep while she urged Ewan on. Despite the miracle of her and Dominic reuniting, and the son conceived from their love, they could never be together. She had knowingly lied to Dominic and deceived him. She deserved to be punished to the full extent of de Lanceau’s authority. Moreover, Dominic would never want to be bound to a common-born woman who had betrayed his friend and lord—even if she was the mother of his son.
Long ago, she had prided herself for always doing what was right. Before Ryle had cut her breast and threatened to harm Ewan, as well as everyone else she cherished.
If only she had options other than those dictated by desperation.
Ewan yanked on her hand again. “Where are we going? To find Dominic?”
Oh, Button. “Nay,” she said, struggling to keep her voice from wobbling. “You and I are traveling far from here.” She tried to smile. “’Twill be an adventure.”
How it hurt to speak each word. While Dominic had most likely escaped, the lovesick part of her desperately wanted—needed—to know he was all right.
What if he hadn’t managed to elude his captors? What if he were still being beaten, or… worse? An unbearable thought.
Ewan halted in the middle of the alley, almost pulling her off balance. “I want Dominic.”
His face looked heart-wrenchingly defiant in the moonlight. Tears glistened in his eyes. “I know you do, Button.”
“We must find him.”
“Ewan—”
“He needs us, Mama.”
He needs us. The words drove deep, finding the part of her forever devoted to her and Dominic’s love. Aye, her soul answered. He does.
A sudden sense of purpose washed through her. A sense of… rightness. A knowing that before her lay only one true course.
The realization was so intense, she trembled. When the breeze blew again, bringing with it off-key singing from the tavern, she smiled. Among the men at The Stubborn Mule, she would find a driver with a wagon for hire. For a few extra coins, they would be willing to travel at night.
She’d pay whatever they asked.
“Come on,” she said, coaxing Ewan back to a walk. They hurried into the next street.
Footfalls and grumbles came from the blackness ahead. With determined strides, someone headed their way.
One of the thugs she and Ada had earlier rendered unconscious? Had the man awakened, overpowered Ada, and come looking for her? Had he overheard her conversation moments ago?
Gisela looked at Ewan. Pressing a finger to her lips, she motioned to the side of the nearby building. They would crouch there, concealed by the shadows. With luck, the man would walk past them.
She darted toward the building, pulling Ewan after her, but his fingers twisted free from hers. Spinning on her heel, she reached for him again, but he had marched on ahead into a swath of moonlight.
Ewan stood in plain view, his feet planted apart and Sir Smug flung over his right shoulder. Brandishing his sword, the little boy shouted, “Who goes there?”
“Ewan!” Gisela whispered.
“Do not worry, Mama. I will protect you.”
A startled grunt came from the darkness before a tall, broad-shouldered figure emerged and halted before Ewan. The man’s hair and garments glowed an eerie white.
The little boy gasped. His sword wavered, and he stumbled backward. “A ghost.”
Gisela rushed to Ewan’s side. Pushing her son back behind her, she stared at the man who strongly resembled the baker. Yet, why was he stomping around at night, covered in white powder?
The baker planted his hands on his hips. A fine white dust puffed into the air. “I did not expect ta see ye in the night street,” he said, looking first at her, then at Ewan, peering out from behind her.
“We did not expect to see you,” Gisela answered. “What happened? Are you all right?”
The man’s mouth pursed. Dipping his head to indicate his garments, he said, “I am not all right. Far from it, Anne.” He ran his fingers through his hair, loosing another cloud of dust, and sighed.
