Aoife stepped in, her tone gentle but urgent. “You told me you thought I could help him. I thought maybe you were right, that if I healed the old hurt, replaced the woman he lost, maybe he’d soften, maybe he’d change. But I’ve tried everything I know. I’ve been compliant and dutiful; I’ve let him dress me and change the way I speak. And I have nothing to show for it.”
Alton looked at her with quiet puzzlement.
“You thought kindness would change him?”
Aoife hesitated.
“That is how these stories usually go.”
Alton’s mouth twitched faintly.
“Stories are kinder than men, Miss Aoife.”
Aoife met his gaze. “He can be better. He has to be.”
Clara nodded, voice quiet but firm. “We have to try. People are going to die if we don’t.”
“Help me,” Aoife said. “You know him better than anyone.”
Alton’s jaw worked, looking intently at Aoife and Cormac. “If you two want to risk your necks, that’s your choice,” he said finally. “But don’t take us down with you.”
He turned to Clara. “Come on.”
He reached for her hand. She didn’t move.
“We can’t keep doing nothing,” she said.
“If he even suspects we’re talking like this,” Alton said, “we’ll lose everything.”
“We’ll find other work,” she said. “There are people starving, Alton.”
He shook his head. “There isn’t any other work for me. Not with my injuries.” He touched the scar at his jaw. His voice dropped, rougher now. “I owe him everything. And I don’t know who I’d be without him.”
Alton finally released Clara’s hand. “Be careful,” he muttered, then pulled the door open. Clara glanced at Aoife before she followed him out without another word.
The latch clicked shut.
Aoife sat down on the bed and picked up a roll, tearing it in half with more force than necessary. She ate it automatically. Alton had been her best hope of gaining an insight into Halverton, and she’d blown it. She should have spoken to him in private. Should have made sure Clara was well out of it. He had good reason to be afraid. What on earth was she to do now?
Clara came back a few hours later to get her ready for lunch, after which Aoife had to force herself to go downstairs.
Lord Halverton stood as she entered. “Are you feeling better?” he asked once she was seated.
“A little, my lord,” she said, eager for an excuse not to talk.
“A sip of brandy will help.” Halverton gestured to Kit to fill her glass.
Aoife placed her fingers over her glass. “I’d prefer to keep a clear head.” She said, addressing Halverton. Kit looked between them. Finally Halverton nodded, and he returned the brandy bottle to the drinks cabinet.
“Did they find the bear, my lord?” she asked, knowing the answer, hoping to get him talking.
“They did not.” He frowned.
“I’m sure it couldn’t have gone far. It was an excellent shot.”
“It was,” Halverton agreed.
“You must have had a lot of practice.”
