“Oh… William,” she whispered sorrowfully. “You are my very dearest friend and I love you as such. But I do not love you as a wife would love a husband. You deserve a woman who would worship you, but that woman is not me.”
William knew that but to hear it from her lips cut him all the same. Still, he could not give up; he had loved her too long to give in so easily.
“Will you not at least consider it?” he whispered.
Avalyn’s expression was wrought with pain as she reached out, putting her hand over his. “I cannot,” she murmured. “I love Brogan and I will do whatever necessary to be with him. As you love me, surely you can understand that. If we were separated, and in love, surely you would do whatever you had to in order to be with me.”
He could feel her palm on his hand, the heat searing his flesh. God, it was a painful moment for him, one he’d hoped would have gone more in his favor. But he could see that it was not tobe. If he was honest with himself, he supposed he knew that all along. But letting go… that was the difficulty.
“Aye,” he whispered, barely audible. “I would do whatever necessary.”
Avalyn squeezed his hand and let go. “Then you understand that I must go to London now,” she said softly. “I will not expect you to escort me, but mayhap you can arrange for someone who will. I would be grateful.”
Jaw ticking, face lined with sorrow, he shook his head and averted his gaze, moving away from the desk.
“Nay,” he muttered. “I will take you myself. I have been with you this far. I will be with you until the end.”
Avalyn watched him go with tears in her eyes. She wanted to say more to him but dare not; she was afraid any further exchange would end up in heated words and she did not want that. Next to leaving Brogan in that dirty cell those weeks ago, it was the singularly most painful thing she had ever had to do. William had always been so good to her; it would seem he would continue to be until his services were no longer required. With a heavy sigh, she sanded the ink on the missive and rolled up the vellum, sealing it with the Aubrey seal. Her entire life was sealed up in that document, and before the sun hit noon on that day, she and William were riding on for London.
When Richard read the missive two days later, delivered by Barton St. John no less, he was so angry that he burst a blood vessel in his eye. Whether or not she was physically present, it looked to all concerned that Avalyn had left her uncle with a figurative, and literal, black eye.
She’d won the war.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Three weeks later
Brogan couldn’t helpbut notice that little Lake was gaining weight. With his mother’s constant tending, and feeding, the little girl had turned into a healthy little cherub with round rosy cheeks. She was sweet, and funny, and an utter joy to be around. In fact, it had almost been enough to take his mind off his horrendous grief at times, but not entirely. He still had moments of melancholy so painful that he would literally double over from it.
It had been over two months since that painful scene with Avalyn in the vault of Guerdley Cross. He lived that moment over and over in his mind on a daily basis. Because he had a tendency towards great and almost suicidal depression, as evidenced on the night he met Avalyn, his mother and St. Alban were with him almost constantly. If one wasn’t around, the other was. He knew it was because they were worried about him and he had reassured them both more than once that he would never again do anything foolish against his life. Even though they nodded their heads, he knew they didn’t believe him.
But their doubt and constant attention didn’t bother him now like it had in the earlier days. In fact, everything had bothered him in the first few weeks as they had all returned to London like a rag-tag band of gypsies; him, St. Alban, his mother, little Lake, and the sirens. All of them traipsing back to London in defeat. The sirens had returned to their lair in the troop house while St. Alban had split his time between thereand the bread shop. All of them, trying to resume their lives before they had uprooted everything and had traveled north. Still, the normalcy they sought was fragile; there were days that all seemed well and days that seemed dark.
But little Lake gave them all something to focus on, her youth and beauty filling their lives like the brilliance of stars. For Brogan, in particular, since she went nearly everywhere with him. No longer a soldier for Edward, he now lived with his mother in the little apartment over her bread shop. He didn’t want to be a warrior any longer; he wanted to live as a simple man because it seemed the more pleasing thing to do. He found that he was actually happier there than he’d been in a very long time. Memories of Avalyn, for the most part, were easing.
He couldn’t help but think of her at times, however, knowing she was now Lady Aubrey and wondering if life was good to her. It was his wish for her, truly. He could never think ill of her no matter what; his relationship with her had, if nothing else, showed him he was indeed capable of living and loving. She had shown him such love and humor and devotion that he had come away from it a much richer man. Still, he wished she would have married him. He wished it every single day.
This morning had dawned warm and bright, the humidity from the river in July already creeping into the still London air. Brogan had risen before dawn to start the fire in the ovens for his mother and to begin his chores for the day. He had wood to chop and a roof to mend, and he was perfectly content going about his tasks.
Lake, however, heard him get up and she rose, too, rushing to him with a hug and a kiss to start his day. His mother had given her a daily duty, and that was to collect the eggs from the chickens they kept out in the alley behind the shop. Therefore, Brogan dressed her in a little tunic and hose, with little boots on her feet, and together they went out to collect eggs from thechickens that sometimes liked to peck. Lake was fearful of them but Brogan encouraged her, going so far as to push the chickens aside so she could move in and collect the eggs. He had just ushered the little girl and her basket full of eggs back into the house when he caught movement in the alleyway.
A man appeared in his periphery and Brogan turned casually to see who it was. For a moment, he simply stared at the man because he wasn’t entirely sure that he was not hallucinating. William stood there, clad in armor and looking particularly weary, and Brogan just stared at him. He even blinked his eyes, thinking William would disappear, but he didn’t. He was still there. Jolted, and suddenly unable to breathe, Brogan rose unsteadily to his feet.
“Inglesbatch?” he asked hesitantly. “Is it… you?”
William nodded, exhaustion in his movements. “It is,” he said. “I was hoping to find you here. I did not want to go hunting all over London.”
Brogan had no idea why he was filled with terror, but he was. He couldn’t seem to shake a massive sense of foreboding.
“Why?” he demanded. “What has happened? Why are you here?”
William stared at him a moment before looking over his shoulder, off into the small passageway that separated the bread shop from its neighbor. Brogan found himself looking there, too, feeling like a perfectly sane man until Avalyn suddenly appeared.
Then, it was if all of his control left him; strength and heart and mind drained right out of him at her appearance and he staggered, falling to one knee. The shock was too great. His collapse brought William and Avalyn running, both of them grasping his arms to keep him from falling further.
“Brogan?” Avalyn gasped. “Are you well?”
Brogan looked at her, his mouth hanging open, as she held on to his left arm. He stared and stared at her and, as they watched, tears popped to his eyes.
