The boy’s arms clung just as tightly around Alice.
He knew he was witnessing something not often found. Before it could get hold of him, before he could put words to it, he placed his hand on her shoulder and felt their combined shudders resonate through him.
This wasn’t a snippet of time with Alice, or a shared moment. It was so much more and he didn’t want to see it—not now. Not when he still hadn’t found a resolution.
Ignoring the heaviness in his chest, Hugh continued with the tasks ahead. The boy’s eyes were closing again, and he prayed it was only exhaustion and not something worse.
He flexed his fingers into Alice’s shoulder to gain her attention. When she looked up, he said, ‘We need to keep pouring the water, and you can’t get your blanket wet. I don’t have any spares.’
* * *
Hours spent heating the water and adding it to the tub. Hugh constantly checked the temperature, and threw more logs on the fire. Entertained William, and made sure he stayed awake.
Alice huddled nearby. Hot stones under her feet, a cup of steaming water in her hands, she listened as Hugh tirelessly told his stories and patiently answered William’s questions.
Hugh was sharing his life with this boy he didn’t know. Since he had to know she was listening, he was sharing it with her as well. These were the stories she’d wanted to hear on Wren Day. Tales of his childhood in Swaffham that she’d never known before. What had happened when he’d arrived at Court, his befriending Eldric and another knight she knew nothing of.
Even knowing that Hugh was carefully cultivating the stories for William, she got lost in them. Enough to finally feel the warmth of the room and know the fact William was truly safe.
She hadn’t gone out alone in the storm. Not at first. Cranley had gone with her. When they’d found others trapped, animals as well, and no sign of William, they’d separated.
At first Cranley had refused, but then they’d found Bertrice in the church and they’d talked about what would be done. Alice would carry on to the town square, no more. She’d find shelter.
Only after several assurances had they let her go.
Back into the howling winds, with the sleet slashing against every bit of her as she forced her feet forward. She’d had a shawl wrapped around her face, but she hadn’t been able to protect her eyes as she’d scanned for any sign of life or unusual shape. Difficult when the snow had already masked so many landmarks.
It had been against the town’s square well that she’d found William huddled. Almost frozen, almost asleep. She’d grabbed his hands before he’d cried out and then lost consciousness. Then she hadn’t known what else to do but carry him just as he was.
She had seen the smoke from Hugh’s chimney, and forced herself to make the distance.
And now, in the comfort of his home, she was finally believing they were safe. That with Hugh’s care William would keep his hands and feet. She clutched her warm cup and realised she could have lost her own.
She had expected more accusations from Hugh about her carelessness, about William’s foolhardiness, but he only talked of his own conflicts and tribulations. Grand stories made grander for the boy, but underneath she heard the rest. The pain and conflict of his training, his continual feeling of being an outsider.
And with his actions, with his words, her love could not be contained. What had been said during Wren Day wasn’t enough. What she had said all her life to him wasn’t enough. She knew that now because he had never denied the truth of her words, he had just walked away.
So foolishly, recklessly, she would approach him again. She wouldn’t run away.
As they lifted William from the tub and carefully dried him off, as they laid him down on the bed with multiple covers, Alice didn’t hide what she felt for Hugh. She couldn’t contain the love she felt. She wanted to know him more.
He had said it wasn’t the past that stopped him, but she didn’t know what it was that did. She had vowed at the dance that she would explore what he had said in haste about his childhood, about whatever was between them.
A part of herself questioned her actions, heard her sister’s warnings when it came to Hugh. But her family had never seen him as she did. This wasn’t about some childish vow.
And she knew it wasn’t only her with feelings. Hugh had admitted as much. She saw it, felt it in his anger that she’d gone out in the storm, that she spied for the King. He worried forher.
And she felt something else now. In his home the distance between them insignificant. All there was wasthem.
It seemed Hugh was aware of it as well. His eyes were darting around the room, maybe trying to see it through her eyes, perhaps looking for distraction. She didn’t welcome the fear of almost losing William to the storm, but shedidwelcome this moment.
‘You care for him,’ Hugh said suddenly, his voice gruff as if he hadn’t used it for a while. As if she hadn’t heard him give comfort to a child he barely knew.
Alice adjusted some of the stones at her feet. ‘He’s very precious to me. So much—all of this—has been keeping me away from him. I should have seen his concern, been there for his worry.’
She stopped her words, knowing they were fruitless. The King had commanded her, and if she didn’t obey more hurt would occur.
‘What is he to you?’
