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He turned to the door. Maybe he was done talking to her now. But then he seemed to see Jamie asleep in a chair.
He stopped and frowned at the maid. “Why is the boy sleeping at this hour?”
“I don’t know, Your Grace,” the maid said. She hurried over and shook Jamie awake.
Jamie sat up, his hair rumpled, his face flushed and lined from the chair.
“Good,” the duke said. “Boys shouldn’t sleep during the day. See to it that he’s kept awake until his bedtime.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the maid muttered.
The duke nodded and walked to the door. “Behave, children. If you’re very good, I shall come see you again.”
And he left.
Abigail went to Jamie.
He had begun to whimper at being awakened. “I want Mama, Abby.”
“I know, dearest,” Abigail whispered, using the tone she’d heard their mother use so many times. “I know. But we have to be brave until Mama comes for us.”
She held Jamie against her chest and rocked him a little, mostly to comfort him, but also to comfort her, she admitted. Because the duke was wrong. She didn’t want to go back to living in the grand London house. She wanted to return to Scotland. To help Mama clean Sir Alistair’s dirty castle. To go for walks with him to look for badgers and to catch fish in his clear, blue stream. She wanted them all to return to Castle Greaves and to live together there.
And she was very much afraid that she’d never see Castle Greaves or Sir Alistair again.
Chapter Fifteen
Truth Teller looked up and saw that clouds were moving over the moon. He remembered what Princess Sympathy had said: that the sorcerer would only be transformed while the light of the moon was upon him. Even as Truth Teller turned to run down the mountain, the little brown bat appeared. The clouds covered the moon, and the bat turned back into the sorcerer. He fell to the ground nude and then stood, powerful and angry.
“What have you done?” he shouted.
Truth Teller looked at him and told him what he must: the truth. “I have drugged you, released the princess, and loosed the swallows. She has fled here on a fast horse, and you will never catch her. Because of me, you have lost her forever.…”
—from TRUTH TELLER
By the time Alistair returned to the hotel, it was early evening. His follower had managed to keep up with the carriage all the way from the docks, but once they’d made the hotel, another man had taken his place. A shorter fellow in what had once been a yellow coat leaned against the wall opposite Alistair’s hotel. Not that Alistair cared at the moment. He wanted only to get to the room he shared with Helen, retire from all the eyes that stared at him constantly, and perhaps see if he could have a meal brought up so they could dine in private.
He simply wanted to rest.
But the moment he entered the hotel room, he could feel the tension surrounding Helen. He paused a moment in the doorway, eyeing her. She paced by the windows, a short track between the bed and the wall, her brows furrowed and one hand rubbing the other at her waist.
He sighed and shut the door behind him. She’d been anxious when he’d left her here earlier, but not this anxious. What was working her up now?
“I thought I’d order a simple supper to eat in the room if that’s agreeable to you,” he said as he crossed to a dresser. On the top were a basin and a jug of fresh water. He poured some water into the basin.
Behind him there was silence save for her pacing footsteps.
“Is it?” he asked.
“What?” Her voice was distracted.
“Is it agreeable to you to eat here?” He splashed water on his face.
“I… I suppose.”
He took a towel and dried his face, turning to watch her. She’d halted by the window, staring down at her feet.
He threw aside the towel. “What did you do this afternoon?”
