He’d called her love. She wanted to lower her head and never look up again. Why now? Was she going to die in such guilt and shame after everything? “I will not leave her.”
“There is nothing ye can do for her.”
“You do not know that!” she argued. “I will prepare more tea and—”
“’Tis not workin’, lass,” he said gently, taking a step closer and speaking quietly so that Agnes didn’t hear. “Walter is dead.”
She clenched her jaw and then smiled at Annabelle. “How would you like to help me wake up Cecily?”
Annabelle nodded but stared at her mother.
“Go with Lily now, Annabelle,” her mother ordered.
The little girl nodded. Lily squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. And left Agnes’ house.
Outside, Elias picked up their pace and pulled her toward home. “When I get ye home, I want ye to take Annabelle inside and bolt the doors. Tell Richard and Simon that Bertram has escaped.”
“Where are you going?” But she knew. Her heart felt as if it were going to burst from her chest and cling to him.
“To find him.”
She didn’t want him to go. She wanted him to be safe, the same as he wanted for her. They hurried toward home and the closer they came, the harder her heart pounded. What if Bertram killed him?
“Elias,” she pleaded as they slowed at the door and he set Annabelle down. “If anything were to happen to you because of us…because of me, I would never forgive myself.”
“Nothin’ will happen to me, Lily. He willna know what he is fightin’ when I find him,” Elias replied with a flash of silver in his eyes and an unsheathed sword in his hand. “I will show him no mercy.”
“Now is not the time for that,” she said, pulling on his sleeve when he started to open the door. “Richard and I need you here. I need you here. Do not go.”
Heaven help her, he looked like he wanted to kiss her, or hold her, or both. She could feel it radiating from his gaze. Her body tingled and warmed in response, though he did not touch her.
He opened the door and stepped inside first. He looked around, as did Lily behind him. They both turned to Simon starting for the door to greet them.
He put up his hands to stop them.
Lily put one foot forward. She didn’t want to wait to hear.
“Richard and Charlie are sick.”
No! She would not believe it. Not Richard. Was she being punished for her adultery? She raced toward the stairs and stopped when she came to Charlie sitting up in one of Richard’s most cozy chairs in the sitting room. He didn’t appear too sickly, but when she put her knuckles to his cheek, she almost pulled away at how hot he was.
“Do not fear, Charlie,” she leaned in and told him. “I will get you something for your fever.” She looked longingly up the stairs then moved to turn away from them to make Charlie his tea.
She stopped when she faced Elias behind her, moving toward Charlie.
“Simon,” he said to his friend. “Make Charlie whatever she tells ye. Lily, ye go up and see to yer husband. I will see to Charlie.”
“You are staying then?” she asked.
“Aye. I’m stayin’.”
He’d chosen to remain with her and the sick, rather than to ride off and exact revenge on Bertram. She thanked him and then raced up the stairs and passed her bed to Richard’s, beyond the curtain.
He looked small and old in his bed.
“Richard!” she breathed out against his chest. “No! No, you must not have the sickness!”
“I’m afraid I do, my fairest Lily.”