‘As I’m sure you remember, my father didn’t say much at all—let alone have an opinion about my nose,’ he said.
Pressing her hand upon his chest, she pulled away to see his expression. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but the light coming through the slats wasn’t enough for her to see what was in his eyes. Still she tried to tell him he had it wrong—about his past, about that day.
‘I want you to—’
‘What are you doing in here?’ he interrupted.
Another change of subject, and she felt no relief. Neither talking of their past or her present was easy. Especially since she needed to lie to him. But he’d seen her come in here, and close the door. She couldn’t pretend she was in the wrong room.
‘The dance will end and we’ll have to leave soon,’ he said.
Affected by the dark, by his comfort, a part of her didn’t want to lie to him. If she said something—if she confessed what she truly had been doing—what would the King do? Yet right now, in the dark with Hugh holding her, the King felt very far away.
‘I was looking for something.’
Exhaling, he turned his face away. ‘It’s time, isn’t it?’
He’d said that to her once before after the barn restoration. After they worked together and had some accord. It felt like that now with his arms around her. With his comfort in the dark. It felt like they were coming to some understanding, but she didn’t know what. ‘It’s time?’
‘For the truth. For some answers to the questions I’ve had. Because here, now, I’m beginning to comprehend what is real, and don’t know if I...’ He shook his head. ‘Please tell me this has nothing to do with the King.’ He took a step away, but his hands remained on her shoulders. ‘That you’re not in here because the King sent you.’
She didn’t want to lie to him. ‘Why would the King send me into Lyman’s room?’
‘Then this has nothing to do with that day in the King’s chambers?’
She didn’t know what to say, and then she heard a sound from him. Swallowing—as if he was suddenly afraid.
‘If it is, be careful what you say to me.’
‘Why should I be careful?’
Absolute silence—as if she’d shocked him. As if he held a thousand words back. And then she knew—from his silence, from his actions, from the few words he’d already said.
She knew because this was Hugh. She knew the calibre of man he had been, and she’d already glimpsed the man he still was.
And right now he was soothing her in the dark. He was protecting her because he knew... He knew she was in danger.
‘You said...’ she began. ‘You said I’d been caught. You said it isn’t safe. You’re a spy, too.’
His hands tightened on her arms before they released her. Her trembles were almost gone now.
‘Are you spying on me? Did the King send you here to make sure I followed his orders? Or...are you here to stop me?’
‘Too many questions,’ he said curtly. ‘You won’t get confessions that way.’
It wasn’t the dark making her ramble; it was the enormity of her realisation. ‘It’s true, then?’
‘What is?’
Now there was his cynicism again. ‘All of it. The Kingdidsend you here to spy on me. Youarelike me.’
‘You can’t be a spy,’ he said. ‘You’re a woman.’
His words sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. ‘The fact that I’m a woman didn’t bother the King when he commanded me. He didn’t tell you this when you requested his counsel?’
‘You’re here because of your project with Mitchell, Alice. Youhaveto be.’
His words were short, brisk, as if he was forcing them to be true.
