The king mulled over the situation, Sean’s words. His weak mind was torn with suspicion and jealousy. “Indeed I did,” he said. “But I have seen him do worse and show no compassion. Why this time? Why with her? Perhaps he wants her for himself.”
D’Athée could only shake his head. The king waved a finger in the general direction of the concealed panel. “Follow them. Report back to me.”
Gerard, against his better judgment, obeyed.
*
“She is hurtenough,” Sean had Sheridan by the waist. “Go– sit over there, away from her. There will be no battles today in my presence.”
Sheridan wasn’t listening. She was so furious and terrified that she was crying. She wanted to take her sister’s head off but Sean wouldn’t let her.
“Ooooo,” she shook both of her fists at a weeping Alys. “You are a fool, do you hear me? A fool! I should kill you and be done with it!”
Sean bodily picked her up and carried her to the opposite side of the room. There was a chair; he set her down in it, gently, and grasped her face, forcing her to look at him.
“Calm yourself,” he commanded softly. “Alys needs your comfort, not your anger.”
Sheridan’s eyes were filled with tears. Then, she closed her eyes tightly and refused to look at any of them.
“She’ll not get any from me,” she hissed. “Please, I need to lie down. I feel horribly ill.”
Sean swept her into his arms and put her right back onto the bed where he had found her a few minutes earlier. She had looked as if she was dying, lying in a dark room with a cloth over her eyes. But a brief story of Alys’ morning to explain her splinted wrist had Sheridan leaping out of bed like a madwoman. It had, in hindsight, not been the brightest of ideas. Her sick headache was worse than before.
“What can I do for you?” he leaned over her, his powerful arms braced on either side of her.
She put her arm over her eyes, blocking out the light. “Nothing,” she whispered. “Darkness and quiet are the only things I need. This will pass.”
He gently touched her arm, a comforting gesture, wishing he could do more. “Shall I send for the physic?”
“Nay,” she rasped. “He can do nothing.”
“Can I at least try? I cannot stomach seeing you like this.”
She grunted in response. If it wasn’t a direct denial, he took it as an affirmative. He turned to go, pausing at the door. “If I leave, can I be assured that you will not attack your sister in my absence?”
Sheridan’s arm flopped from her face in an irritated gesture. “Do you think I would wait until you go to rip her apart? I would be doing it right now if I felt any better.”
He grinned, quitting the apartment. The little maid came out of hiding and went to her mistresses, Sheridan first to put another cool cloth on her face, and Alys second to inspect the splint on her arm. Alys waved the woman away, sending her for food. When the door closed softly behind her, Alys sank wearily into the sling-back chair near the smoldering hearth. Already, it had been a long and eventful day.
“Where was Neely when this madness was going on?” Sheridan whispered from the bed. “Why is he not here even now?”
Alys gazed at the lancet window, covered by the heavy oilcloth. “I sent him on an errand. He will be gone for some time.”
“You didwhat?” Sheridan ripped the cloth off, her red eyes glaring at her sister. “Where is he?”
Alys was torn between shame and defiance. “You needn’t yell.”
“Yes, I must,” Sheridan seethed. “Where did you send Neely?”
“To Gunnarsbury.”
“What on earth for?”
Alys was starting to loosen her insolence. “Because when we were at the Street of the Merchants the other day, a vendor told me about his shop in Gunnarsbury and he said he had the most marvelous delicacy from an ancient recipe from the Holy Land,and that I positively must have some.” She came to a sudden stop and her lip stuck out in a pout. “So I sent Neely to get it for me.”
Sheridan was dumbfounded. “You sent the captain of the guard to Gunnarsbury for food?”
“Not food. A marvelous sweet paste made from Almonds and sugar. They call it Marzipan. Isn’t that a wonderful name?”