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“A man who was once in Noreham’s retinue. She is well protected.”
“Once?” Guy’s mood was not improving.
“’Tis a long story, one you’d do better to ask the man himself.”
If only he could. But Guy was not at liberty to leave just yet. Not before the deed was done.
“She is well protected?” Roger had just said as much, but he needed to be sure.
“She is,” the older man answered with certainty.
Guy made for the door.
“Will you go to her?”
Every part of him wanted to say aye. To leave immediately for Licheford. To find his wife, hold her in his arms, and never let go. But he could not do that today, certainly. And maybe not ever. He’d send word to Conrad in the morn, but for now, he had a mission to complete.
With a final farewell, he left the shop and attempted to shrug off the fear that had gripped him the moment he realized she’d left.
I will be alone soon enough. No longer your concern.
How many times had Sabine said those words to him in the past few days? This time, he had no choice but to listen.
Chapter 32
“This eve, we will be hosting an important man loyal to our cause.” Conrad folded his arms as if he were in his solar rather than on horseback. “He claims to have news.”
Sabine slowed her mount to a stop, pulling her mantle tighter across her shoulders. The weather was changing more rapidly this year, the air already cool. Still, the land around Licheford was lovely, and she’d been pleased to accept Conrad’s invitation to take a ride.
“Oh?”
On the first morning of her arrival at Licheford, Sabine had not known what to do. Where to go. She was a stranger here, even if she had gotten on well with the earl on her previous visit.
But Guy’s friend had been more than welcoming. He’d sent a maid to tend to her needs—a welcome though unnecessary courtesy—broken his fast with her each morn, and included her in every machination dealing with the rebellion.
A sennight had passed without word from Guy.
No news from London either.
If he’d been named a traitor, news of it had not yet reached Licheford, and the small group of men Conrad had sent out to Noreham to make discreet inquiries had not returned either.
“A man by the name of Stephen Langton,” Conrad continued.
Sabine tore her gaze away from the spectacular view around them, rolling green hills that reminded her of home, and looked at the man beside her in surprise.
“The archbishop of Canterbury?” Certainly she’d not expected that.
“Apparently Bishop Salerno spoke to him. He knows of our cause.”
Our cause.
Like Guy, Conrad had treated her as a part of the order from the very beginning. It made her want to take a more active role in the rebellion her father had started.
Thinking about the rebellion, and more what could be done, was preferable to thinking of Guy. To wondering if he still lived.
Waiting here, not knowing what had become of him, was as excruciating as it had been waiting for her parents at Lord Burge’s residence.
“Think of the importance of this meeting instead,” Conrad said.
