“More than you know. But I would like to remedy that.”
“What do you mean?”
A grin played on his lips. “Must I be plain?”
“I am afraid so.”
He lifted an eyebrow with feigned reluctance. “Very well. I have been thinking on this subject since the night we walked together in the yard so I may as well spell it out. But first, you should know that I am not a man given to whims. I do not make swift decisions.”
She cocked her head. “That makes no sense. You are a knight. Sometimes you must make split-second decisions that will affect your very life. And now you say that you do not make swift decisions?”
Now his eyebrows furrowed. “Cheeky wench. That is not what I mean.”
“You said you were going to be plain. You have not been plain.”
He gave her a look that suggested she was in for a spanking if she didn’t curb her mouth. “You have not let me be plain, nor have you allowed me to explain myself. Do you want to hear this or not?”
“If I must.”
An expression of momentary outrage was replaced by a reluctant grin. “You are not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
She returned his smile, a radiant gesture that lit up the room. “Did you expect any less?”
“God help me, I did not.”
“Then pray continue.”
“I will if you will shut up.”
She pressed her lips together in a gesture of complete silence. His eyes twinkled at her. “Now, if I may continue,” he went on. “What I was going to say was that I would like to.…”
He suddenly trailed off. There was a small window for ventilation over Sheridan’s head. Sean caught sight of the king’s procession passing by the stall, tracking every sound, every movement. He remained as unmoving as stone; the only indication that he was not a statue was the slight movement of his eyes. She felt his grip tighten on her arm before he finally looked down at her once again. His manner was suddenly very serious.
“Stay here,” he whispered. “Do not leave until the king has gone. Do you comprehend?”
There was something in his tone that frightened her. She nodded her head. “Aye.”
He thought to give her a smile of encouragement but stopped short. He took both of her hands in his massive gloves, holding them gently, urgently. “I am going to ask that you trust me, Lady Sheridan.”
She was thoroughly puzzled. “What…?”
“As you once trusted me with your sister’s life, I am asking you to do so again.”
She had no idea what he meant. He suddenly kissed both of her hands and was gone. The man moved so swiftly that the sharp action took her breath away. Her heart thumping with fear, and a bit of excitement from his kiss, she hid behind the fabric bolts enough to be able to peer from the open door to see what was happening. Powerful curiosity had the better of her.
The king was speaking with Alys.
*
Seated in afine chair in the antechamber of her borrowed apartments at the Tower, Sheridan stared into the weak fire. The flames licked at the blackened brick, crackling unsteadily as the sun waned. Soon, night would be upon them all and the celebratory feast would commence. But Sheridan had no thoughts of feasting this night. All she could think of was the horrors of the afternoon.
Alys had been commandeered by the king. Nay, not by the king; by Sean himself. Sheridan had heard her sister screaming as she was taken from the Street of the Merchants, the sounds of horror echoing in her brain. When Neely had tried to intervene, he had been hit from behind by a massive, burly man and hauled away, unconscious. Someone had told her that he had been taken back to the Tower and thrown in the vault. She didn’t even know Neely’s fate and the trepidation of it ate at her.
Horrified, Sheridan had been escorted back to her Tower apartment by what was left of her guard. She had sent for Jocelin immediately and, in a rage, the bishop had set off in search of Alys. That had been several hours ago and she had yet to receive any word. Though she could have very easily collapsed into tears, she had to remain strong until she knew the fate of both her sister and Neely. Crying would not accomplish anything.
Her new little puppy would have been a joyous diversion had she not been so troubled. After feeding the animal some scraps from the morning meal, the little dog had slept beside her the entire afternoon. She petted the dog absently now and again, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. And with the onset of night, her anxiety was growing.
Trust me, de Lara had said. She had up until the moment she saw him take Alys away. Now she didn’t know what to think. All she could hear was Alys’ screams rattling in her head. She had to close her eyes to erase the pain. Maybe she should have listened to what everyone had tried to tell her.The man is pure evil.