“I believe you.”
His thin lips twisted with a somewhat humble smile. “Thank you. I shall go and see what is keeping your meal. And… find another place to sleep.”
He was out of the door so quickly that the entire cottage shook as the door slammed in his wake. Avalyn sat there a moment, digesting the swift turn of events, before emitting a heavy sigh. It had certainly been an eventful day and her thoughts turned from Charles to Brogan. There was heaviness and sorrow with that thought, but she fought it. Now was not the time to cloud her mind with grief, for she must think clearly if she was to find a way out of the situation. The room was warmer now and she stood up, removing her heavy traveling cloak and hanging it on the wall peg; since Charles had fled she could remove her symbolic shield. As she moved for the fire to warm her hands there was a knock on the door.
“Come,” she called.
The door opened and several de Neville soldiers entered with her trunks. She had brought nine altogether and they piled the trunks in the small cottage, barely leaving room to walk about it. The men bowed out respectfully, and on their heels came a woman bearing a tray of food. Avalyn paid little attention to the woman as she entered the cottage, closed the door, and set the tray down on the small, wobbly table.
“My lady?” the serving wench hissed at her.
Hands held out over the fire, Avalyn turned to the woman, wondering why she was whispering. The wench was covered with a thin dirty cloak that had obscured most of her body, including her hair, but now gazing into the woman’s brown eyes, a flicker of recognition filled Avalyn. She had seen that face somewhere before.
The wench stepped towards her. “My lady, do you remember me? My name is Thel. I live in the barracks at The Tower. You borrowed my gown when your clothes were wet after Brogan found you in the river.”
Avalyn’s eyes opened wide with shock. Deeply puzzled, she moved towards the woman. “Of course I remember you,” she said, looking the woman up and down to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. “What on earth are you doing here? How did you…?”
Thel cut her off gently. “There is no time, my lady. Brogan is here and has sent me to contact you.”
“Brogan?” Avalyn gasped, hand to her throat. “But… he cannot be here. I told him to wait for me to send word!”
Thel was sure the fat, red-haired man was going to return any moment and hastened to deliver her message. “I do not know of such things, my lady,” she said quickly, quietly. “But St. Alban and Brogan are following you to Merseyside. They brought Aggie and Noe and I along to help. They think we can get closer to you than they can. St. Alban suggests you tell your betrothed that you have acquired us as your maids. That way, we can carry messages between you and Brogan.”
It was uncomplicated and brilliant. Avalyn stared at Thel a long moment and tears sprang to her eyes. She put her hand over her mouth as if to hold back the smile, press down the sobs. She blinked rapidly, chasing the tears away that threatened and feeling foolish that she hadn’t thought of something so wonderfully simple.
“Whose plan is this?” she asked in a strangled whisper.
Thel could see the emotion in the lady’s eyes; a fine lady as she wanted to be someday. “St. Alban’s, my lady,” she said softly. “He wants to help.”
“Of course he does,” Avalyn whispered. She was so elated that her head was buzzing. But she was also concerned. “How did you come to bring my meal? Surely you did not simply walk into the inn and go to work?”
Thel shook her head. “It took both Aggie and I to ambush the serving wench as she left the inn to bring your food.” When Avalyn cocked her head in confusion, Thel hastily explained. “We followed your party from The Tower when you left this morning. Aggie and me followed your lord into the inn and heard him order a room and a meal for you. So we hid outside and waited for the serving wench, knocking her on the head and stealing both the tray and cloak. I was to deliver my message.”
Avalyn listened with growing concern. “Inglesbatch knows St. Alban and Brogan on sight,” she said. “They must be very careful to stay out of sight until I can tell William that they are tracking us.”
“St. Alban is a good knight, my lady,” Thel said. “He will not let anything happen to any of us.”
Avalyn didn’t know what to say. People she hardly knew were risking their lives so that she and Brogan could stay in communication. It was touching beyond words. But the responsibility of it was also terrifying.
“Where is Brogan?” she asked softly.
“He has one of the cottages a few doors down.”
Avalyn’s eyes flew open. “Is he mad?” she hissed. “If he is discovered, they’ll kill him.”
Thel shook her head. “This I also said, my lady. But Brogan says that your betrothed does not know him on sight, so he feels little fear.”
Avalyn was taut with apprehension, with excitement. To know Brogan was so close made her head spin. But she was not so muddled that she did not realize the situation Thel had put herself in. She put her hands on the woman’s arm and turned her for the door.
“Go,” she insisted with quiet urgency. “But be here before dawn to tend me for the day’s journey. For now, return to Brogan and tell him that you have delivered the message. Tell him… tell him to wait until everyone has gone to bed before attempting to come to me. And tell him…”
There was a sharp rap at the door. Avalyn froze, her golden eyes moving to the door as if she could possibly see through it. Thel, verging on panic, kept her composure admirably as she looked to the lady for instructions. Avalyn could feel the woman’s terror. With a deep breath, Avalyn held out her hand to Thel to indicate for the woman to calm. There was nothing strange about a serving wench delivering a meal and they would act accordingly.
“Come,” Avalyn said steadily.
The door opened and Charles poked his head in. Thel turned back to the tray, pretending to busy herself with it.
“I see your meal has arrived,” Charles said. There was hope in his voice. “Will there be anything else, my lady?”
“Nay,” Avalyn shook her head, putting on a good front that nothing was amiss. “Were you able to find a room?”
Charles grinned sheepishly. “I threw Inglesbatch and St. John out of their cottage. I will be next door should you need me.”
Avalyn tried not to look concerned. “Where will William sleep? I do not want him far from me.”
A flicker of emotion passed across Charles’ face; Avalyn couldn’t tell what it was, but it looked like resentment. “He will camp with the men on the outskirts of town,” he said. “If you need protection, I shall provide it. I shall not be far.”
There was a command in that statement. It was apparent that Charles did not like William’s presence, for whatever reason. Perhaps he thought the man was a threat, or perhaps he even thought there was something more to the relationship between Avalyn and William than met the eye. But then again, knowing about Brogan as he did, perhaps he thought William was in league with the man. Whatever the reason, Avalyn could see that Charles did not easily accept William’s presence.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said. “I will see you come the morrow.”
Charles nodded stiffly, moving aside when Thel suddenly slipped from the room. He didn’t give the woman a second glance, his eyes fixed on Avalyn as if waiting for her to relent, or at least hoping she would. He did not want to go to his solitary room just yet.
“Would… would you accept a cup of wine before retiring?” he said with a tinge of anticipation in his voice. “I would like very much to share it with you.”
Avalyn could only think thoughts of Brogan. She tried very hard to be pleasant but probably did not do a very good job. “You are kind, my lord, but I must decline. My head aches and I am quite fatigued. I would simply like to eat and go to bed.”
“May I sit with you while you eat?”
He was far too eager and it was becoming irritating. But she forced herself to relax. A glanc
e at his face showed an expression like an anxious young lad. She couldn’t help the roll of her eyes when she spoke.
“Very well,” she said.
He bolted into the room and shut the door. Without another word, Avalyn sat at the table and inspected the tray; there was brown bread, butter, some kind of fruit compote, white cheese and a cooling piece of meat. She took the bread with butter and the fruit.
Charles watched her chew, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “May… may I say something, my lady?”
She looked at him, mouth full. “Of course.”
His fidgeting worsened as he thought carefully on his words. “As I said to you when we first met, I realize this betrothal is something of a surprise. I now realize that… well, there is someone you cared for deeply and I will say from the onset that I am sorry to have cut that short. Had I known before your uncle proposed the match, I might have had second thoughts. It was not my intention to make you miserable.”
She swallowed the bite in her mouth, looking at him. It was a kind thing to say. But there was something more; she could see it in his eyes and a slow realization dawned. “There is someone you care for as well, isn’t there?”
His ruddy face flushed a bright red. He tried to make it all sound very nonchalant. “It does not matter, really. What matters is that you and I are betrothed and we must both accept our destiny.”
Avalyn stopped eating. “Who is she?”
He looked at his lap, pulling at his tunic. He looked just like a nervous little boy. “Why… why would you even think…?”
“Because I can tell. Who is she?”
He took a deep breath; his eager conduct seemed to fade and for the first time, she could see a measure of depression enter his manner. “It does not matter.”
“Aye, it does. I would know. Please.”
His head came up. He looked for a moment as if he would resist her, but she could see his struggle fade. Soon he was filled with resignation. “The daughter of the man who helps me with my horses,” he almost whispered. “I have known her most of her life. We have always been very fond of each other. But she is not of noble breeding and a match was impossible. So she married another and moved to Carlisle.”
Avalyn stared at him. She suddenly felt very, very sorry for him. He was trying so hard to make the situation pleasant for her that she never once imagined that he might have his own painful problems. That moment caused her to see Charles Aubrey in an entirely new light. And it would explain why he had been so sympathetic during her interrogation.
“I am sorry,” she said after a moment. “I thought perhaps I was the only one who was not receptive to this betrothal. Please understand it has nothing to do with you. You seem like a very kind man and I am sure you will make a fine husband.”
He smiled modestly. “I suppose the difference between your resistance and mine is that I have already come to terms with the fact that I can never marry whom I choose. And to have the opportunity to wed a woman such as you was beyond anything I could have possibly imagined. I am a simple man, my lady. I never thought to achieve the stars.”
It was a very sweet thing to say. She was beginning to like this man just the slightest. “Did you want to marry your lady?”
“Aye. But it was impossible. I could not fault her choice to marry another.”
She shook her head sadly. “It would seem we are both in difficulty, then.”
He nodded, his voice softening. “I understand your hurt, my lady. I have from the start.”
She lifted an eyebrow, though it was done without force. “But you let your knight interrogate me.”
“It was at your uncle’s directive. St. John did as he was told. We both did.”
“I see.” She wasn’t surprised. “Then I am sorry for you having been a slave to my uncle’s wishes.”
He waved her off. “No need. I could have refused the betrothal. I was well aware of what it would mean, being related to de Neville.”
Her gaze flickered curiously. “Then why did you agree?”
His smile returned. “Because I saw you once at a feast held by the Earl of Oxford. It was a few years ago, but even then, you were the most beautiful woman in the room. I suppose I was blinded by your glory and thought the prize would be worth the risk.”
His smile broadened as he finished. Avalyn laughed softly at him. “You fool.”
He laughed also. “I suppose so.”
She understood this man much better now and she was not sorry to say that she found him warm, kind and humble. He would have made an exceptional husband had she not been madly in love with someone else. There was something deep inside her that did not want to get too close to him lest she feel guilty for fleeing him for Brogan. The man was being open with her. She was sorry that she would not return the favor.
“Well,” she stood up, brushing her hands off. “I truly am fatigued, my lord. I will see you early on the morrow.”
He bolted up, his demeanor returning to that of an eager young pup. “Of course,” he said as he moved to the door. “I shall be right next door if you require anything.”
She was following him to the door, her hand on the latch as he passed through. “I know. Thank you.”
“I enjoyed speaking with you tonight.”
“Thank you. I enjoyed it as well.”
He smiled awkwardly and waved even more awkwardly as Avalyn closed the door in his face. She stood there a moment, listening to his boot-falls fade away before securing the bolt and turning her attention back to the room. Trunks were all over the floor. Food was littered on the table. The bed was mussed where Charles had sat on it. She absorbed the sights, trying to settle her mind, knowing that Brogan was somewhere close by and had probably seen Charles leave. She knew he would be coming.
So much had happened in the past several minutes that her head was swimming. But she moved into the room, struggling to collect her thoughts, waiting for the moment when Brogan would come to her door. She ended up pacing the floor with taut anticipation, pausing several times because she thought she heard footfalls. But no boots were forthcoming. She finally sat on the bed and waited.
Come to me, Brogan.
CHAPTER TEN
“Do you see anything more?”
Brogan was standing beside the shuttered window, peering out into the yard beyond. There were four cottages in a semi-circle around the grassy area: having seen Avalyn and a man he did not recognize go into the last cottage to his left, his eyes had never moved from it. When Thel entered with food, he watched. When the tall, fat man entered and left, then came back and entered and left again, he continued to watch. St. Alban’s question had been repeated many times throughout the evening.
“Nothing more,” Brogan replied in a low, quiet voice. He turned away from the slats. “I would think everyone has gone to bed. It is late.”
The man glanced over at Thel, Aggie, and Noe; they were sitting on the only bed in the room, gazing up at Brogan with a mixture of fear and anticipation. St. Alban, as was typical for him, sat by the roaring fire as black smoke belched into the room and settled up around the ceiling. The little cottage was almost too warm, yet everyone but Brogan seemed comfortable. He was sweating rivers.
“Surely the lady has not yet gone to bed, Brogan,” Thel said. “She will wait for you.”
Brogan moved away from the window and crossed his massive arms in a thoughtful gesture. He was ready to rush to the distant cottage without hesitation, but St. Alban had force him to bide his time while Aubrey within earshot. As it was, Brogan was taking a tremendous risk, not to mention what would happen to Avalyn should he be discovered. After a moment, he shook his head.
“I should not have let you talk me into this,” he growled at the old man. “She told me to wait. I should have waited. To follow her to Merseyside only puts her in danger.”
St. Alban had danced this conversation with him many times over the course of the day. He had always convinced Brogan this was the right thing to do if he ev
er wanted to see his lady again, but the old man had never said what he was really thinking until this moment. “If you hadn’t truly wanted to come, you would not have,” he said flatly. “But you are here; therefore, you must know deep down that this is the right thing to do. If you let the lady go to Merseyside without you, then you will lose her forever. You know this.”
Brogan looked around the room; in addition to the girls sitting on the bed, his mother sat in the corner with a tiny blond bundle sleeping in her arms. His stance softened and he shook his head.
“Look at what we have done,” he hissed at the old man. “Look at all of these people we have pulled into this. If I am discovered, it is not only my life and Avalyn’s that is in jeopardy, but others as well. My mother… the baby…”
St. Alban stood up and moved purposefully to Brogan, standing before the man. His expression was hard. “I am not sure where this self-doubt is coming from, but you must stop it. You worry over inconsequential things.”
“But Avalyn told me…”
St. Alban grabbed his arm with gnarled fingers. “She told you to wait for her to send word. But she is overwhelmed with men and politics at the moment. She is a strong woman, but not strong enough. She needs help. And we are here to help her. You must have faith, Brogan. You have many people willing to risk themselves for your happiness. Instead of expressing such reluctance, you should be willing to do what is necessary. We are all here to help.”
Brogan knew that. The hesitation that had been plaguing him for most of the day was the result of confusion and grief. The lady was gone, in another man’s company, and he was struggling to think clearly. St. Alban’s plan to follow the lady to her new home and infiltrate the ranks of her betrothed was as far as they had gotten. There was no resolution of that scheme. St. Alban was simply trying to keep Brogan near the lady until a solution became evident.
After a moment, Brogan sighed heavily. “You are right, of course,” he muttered, running his fingers through his dark blond curls. “I do not mean to sound cowardly. ’Tis simply that I do not want to put Avalyn in danger. She told me to wait until she sent word.”
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