So he would keep Alice close and pretend. If he could when it came to her.
Alice a spy. To this moment he still tried to deny it, but he knew she spoke the truth.
The King truly had made Alice a spy, had sent her to Swaffham to search for the Half-Thistle Seal. To search forhim.
For the last few days he’d paced his tiny house. There were too many consequences of the truths before him.
One theory was that the King didn’t trust him to find the traitor on his own and therefore had enlisted Alice to help him. There were several problems with this theory. As a spy, he had been involved with numerous missions; Alice had never done this before. The King had never sent anyone to assist him before, and he rarely worked with others. Thus, there were too many holes in that theory for it to be true.
The other theory was that the King truly did suspect the Fentons as deceivers, so he had orchestrated some way for Hugh to work with Alice. Convoluted. Far-fetched. If the King suspected Alice’s family then he wouldn’t notify her that he was looking for the Half-Thistle Seal.
So that left him with the King not trusting him. Because if Edward had sent Alice here to search for the same seal it meant he didn’t trust Hugh to find it. Perhaps because he already believed Hugh had the Half-Thistle Seal. It also meant that the King knew of his relationship with Alice, or at least had guessed there would be a relationship.
And, relationship or not, it came down to his own life and Robert’s versus Alice’s. He knew the King, and knew he would kill or imprison Alice’s family if she didn’t return with the Seal.
Hugh was in a trap. The only saving grace was time. Alice didn’t suspect Hugh of being a traitor. He could keep her close, pretend to assist her, all the while thwarting any ability for her to find it.
If, however, he couldn’t think his way out, he would soon be heading to his execution—as the wrens were today.
‘But I don’t like what you planned. I don’t like any of it.’
‘As you’ve been saying.’
He had been arguing the opposite. Clever Alice—of course she would ask questions.
‘I had a perfectly good plan to find it. With you by my side I won’t gain as much access to people’s homes. How could I have a suitor—?’
‘If I’m one?’ he interrupted. ‘Well, I’m not.’
If only his body would remember that fact, and not recall with utmost accuracy how sweetly she felt in his arms. When she briefly told him of her plan, to gain access into homes by gaining suitors, he almost kissed her again – aclaimingkiss.
‘They don’t know you’re not a suitor since we have to spend time together and collaborate.’
‘If you keep acting cross with me, they would think we don’t suit.’
‘It is easy to stay cross with you.’
He relished every moment that she was. In spite of the deception that he played, there were moments that were sincere between them. Moments when they could discuss topics with ease. He could see how much she had stayed the same and yet how different she was now. How much he regretted losing these years without her, but how much he delighted in her...like now, as she tapped her toe.
These moments were only a brief reprieve from his darker thoughts, from his feeling that he was neatly snared and the guillotine was about to drop. And yet, a resolution out of the trap continued to elude him. ‘I think William looks worried,’ Alice said. ‘He keeps looking at his pole and then at the other boys. Do you think perhaps he’s worried he won’t catch anything?’
‘Are you asking me about parenting skills?’ Hugh said.
‘I think I am.’
Even if this was a trap, these snippets, these moments when Alice asked him questions on everyday life, made Hugh’s last days worth every sacrifice. Even though it was an illusion, it was life he had never thought he’d get a chance to live with her.
‘William’s inspecting the sharpness of the tip. He won’t be catching the wrens on the pole like fish. The wrens are tiny—he’ll have to catch them with his hands. However, if the pole is too thick, or not sharp enough, he won’t be able to tie the wren or the holly to it for the parade later on.’
She pursed her lips. ‘Do wehaveto talk about the birds?’
‘Would you feel better if I scared them all away?’
‘Yes.’
For her, he already intended to do so. The wrens were important to the tradition, but not essential. Some tying of wren feathers to the poles would work as well. It was the parading, the music, the reason to drink at the end that was the true sport.
Wrens were even too small for food so there was no necessary purpose to catching them either. And he’d never forget Alice and her puppies. He knew this wouldn’t be her favourite tradition.
