She didn’t need this—didn’t want it.
Stepping back, she said, ‘It’s time to return home.’
His eyes rested on her as if he was reading more into her words. The moment stretched, felt taut. As if a master spinner was twisting the thread that bound them.
This close, she noticed the length of his lashes, the depth of colour in his eyes, his broad jaw, roughened by the beginnings of a beard that she knew would be gone by tomorrow. His lips, blushed bright from the cold, looked soft, vulnerable on such a masculine face. She suddenly felt like resting her fingers there, to protect them from the cold wind.
The longer she looked at his lips, the more her heart felt lopsided in her chest, like a spinning wheel about to break its axis.
Her eyes glanced to his again, looking for answers, seeing if he could see her thoughts.
She could make no sense of his expression, and no sense of his next words.
‘It is time,’ he whispered.
And she had to wonder... Time for what?
Chapter Nine
‘Ican’t do it,’ William said in despair. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be taking your time with this, but I can’t be Boy Bishop.’
Alice’s heart ached for him. He was a mere child, and on this chilly December morning was his first sermon. It was time for him to go to the pulpit. Except he was hiding back here, and Father Bernard had come to her for help. The church was already filling, and she could hear the din of voices and many feet shuffling against the flagstones.
If this was the only heartache in her life she’d take it. She would do anything for William. But even now, when he needed her, her thoughts still jumped to other moments, other heartaches.
That market day with Hugh, and her reply to him. As if she could command the King. Oh, why had she replied to him as she had? She never would have with anyone else. It had to be because of her time at Court and her projects. It was the frustration of being at the whim of her monarch, and her family held in the balance. All her anger she’d felt and used against Hugh.
She’d used it, and taken satisfaction in it. How the shock had widened his eyes; the fact he’d followed her and demanded to accompany her. The way he had watched her all that day. His assessing gaze burning with familiarity and heat before she could turn away.
More troubling than that, it was the way Hugh helped that day at the barn, the feeling of some accord between them. His eyes softening, telling her it was time, when she still couldn’t comprehend what he truly meant.
Weeks had gone by since then, and she was still searching for the Seal. Wary now, because Hugh could be following her, she’d been more careful while she walked through the Alistairs’ corridors. She’d asked more open-ended questions while visiting the Bensons’ kitchens, sculleries, and cellars.
No matter where she went, or how often she looked over her shoulder, she felt as if there were shadows following her. No doubt the shadows were her own dark thoughts that kept her up at night. The King thought the Seal was here, sowhycouldn’t she find it?
Alice crouched down so she could look William in the eye. ‘Of course, you can be Boy Bishop. Father Bernard has watched you study, he’s rehearsed with you—he believes you to be more than ready.’
‘Father Bernard is merely being kind.’
‘Because you sing so well?’ she teased.
William blushed. Hedidsing well, but it wasn’t that that had made Father Bernard choose him for Boy Bishop. It was William’s care for others. Even now he was doing it—caring about spoiling her day, about ruining Father Bernard’s service.
‘You do sing well,’ she repeated. ‘And you work hard; it’s why you were chosen.’
The Boy Bishop position was meant to be fun, but William had taken his studies in earnest...as if he belonged.
‘What if I hesitate or can’t remember my words?’
‘If you hesitate it’ll simply give us time to settle into our pews. If you forget your words only you and Father Bernard will know. In the end, remember Esther won’t notice because she’ll be asleep.’
William almost smiled, but quickly wobbled again. ‘Maybe the sermon is too short. Father Bernard’s sermons are much longer.’
‘Shorter is better. Then we can all get on with eating and talking. That’s the best bit about church anyway.’
He looked at her sideways, as if judging her words. ‘You’re only saying that because you’ve helped me all this time.’
He didn’t know how much he meant to her, or how much she’d fought for him over the years. Now—today—despite his fears, she realised he had other people fighting for him, too.
