‘He’s an orphan Bertrice has been raising with her own children, but I’ve been there for him, too.’
‘And so you took him under your wing?’
‘I think we all have. Father Bernard has been teaching him the scriptures... I’ve been teaching him about the Fenton household.’
‘Were his parents noble?’ he asked.
She didn’t understand these pointed questions, but they were easy to answer and they had time. ‘The mother was Bertrice’s friend. His parents drowned when William was an infant.’
‘So...what is the point of your care and your educating him?’
Hugh leaned against the wall—a relaxed pose, but she knew better. Setting the cup of water on the floor, she prepared herself for words. She was used to this from Elizabeth, from Mary, her father. All of them lectured her on her projects. But it would be wrong of her not to help William.
‘There doesn’t have to be a point to it. We’re simply there for him.’
‘However—’
‘What wasyourpoint in telling him those stories?’ she interrupted. ‘You could have told him something else. But you talked about your childhood, your mistakes. That was to help him, was it not?’
Hugh was silent. A muscle in his jaw flexed.
She swept the blanket around her. ‘William made a mistake in going out into the snow. You knew there was no point in lecturing him. He’s learned his lesson because he almostdied, so you talked of your mistakes. You talked of Robert, who helped you. Who is he?’
Hugh’s chest expanded and he suddenly turned, intent on adjusting the fire’s logs. They popped and cracked as he spoke. ‘He’s the famed Robert of Dent. Even here in Swaffham you must have heard tales of him.’
She hadn’t, but it had been clear William had. There had been awe in William’s eyes as Hugh had spun his stories.
‘But he wasn’t a legend to you—he was your friend.’
‘He’s dead now.’
He had talked not of one moment with Robert, but of many times over the years. They must have been close. ‘I’m sorry.’
Another adjustment of the logs before he threw a new one into the fire and turned to her. The light in the room didn’t allow her to see his expression clearly.
‘You can’t fix him,’ he said.
And so they were back to talking of William’s trials again, not Hugh’s.
Again Alice kept her patience, though it was fraying. ‘He doesn’t need to be fixed. There isn’t anything wrong with him.’
‘He lacks the funds and connections for him to be brought to the Church,’ Hugh said. ‘If he pulls through this then what?’
Her patience was gone. She didn’t want to talk of William—she wanted to talk ofthem. But it all had to do with the same thing. She knew it, and she feared he knew it, too. It was as if their talking of William and his childhood was somehow talking of Hugh’s. As if talking of William’s unknown future was talking of their own doomed future together.
If that was somehow true, then in this she would tell all. She would confess and lay it all before him. Because there was a connection between herself and Hugh—there always had been. Maybe they had been too young to care about it, maybe there had been too many misunderstandings, but now they could understand each other.
‘What hope foryouwhen you arrived at Edward’s Court?’ she said. ‘I know what you came from, the means you took to help yourself. I appreciate now that when you did need it you gained help from this Robert. If William gains help from others, who knows what will become of him?’
Hugh bowed his head, shook it before he raised his eyes, steady on hers again. ‘You think your caring for him will set things straight. Life doesn’t work that way.’
Itdidwork that way. A traitor amongst them or not. This moment right now was what she had dreamed of all those years ago when she’d demanded that Hugh kiss her. She didn’t want only his kiss—she wanted his love.
‘What I want for William is love. And he has that—all of it. He doesn’t need to be fixed for me to love him. I don’t care if the Church won’t take care of him. What use is all the Fenton wealth if it can’t help him? I’ll make sure to help him. That’s what love is. It’s to be there, to help when you can.’
He cursed and turned away. Pressed his hand against the wall as he faced the fire.
Alice watched his anger and frustration fade to something else. Something darker inside him. They were talking ofthem. This wasn’t about William. Except even with that understanding there were still barriers.
