The voice was silent a long while. “This cannot be good, Sean. If seeds of doubt have begun to sprout….”
“I know,” Sean wouldn’t let him finish. “The seeds are there. With John, they are always there. But I think I can kill whatever suspicion grows. He needs me too much to so easily dismiss me.”
“What are you going to do? We cannot see nine careful years lain to waste.”
Sean drew in a long, deep breath. “I am going to do as ordered with the exception of razing Lansdown. And I am going to Watford House to claim Sheridan.”
“It will be an ugly fight, Sean. Moreover, since Jocelin is aware of your position, it is quite possible he will reveal your cover in a fit of emotion. This must not happen.”
Sean’s jaw ticked as he hung his head, staring at the floor, his hands. “The north and east borders of London are falling,” he said quietly. “With the size of the army that approaches the Tower, I have little doubt that it will fall with or without my help. Is my presence really necessary here any longer? Is this cover I have held all this time still an essential one? Our plan is coming to action. There is nothing more I can do. Why can I not reveal my true self now and fight against John in the open as the others do?”
The door to the confessional suddenly flew open. William Marshall stood in the entry, his weathered face taut with rage.
“Get ahold of yourself, de Lara,” he snapped. “Of all the men in my employ, you are the last person I would expect this nonsense from. I told you once that I would whisk LadySheridan away from you if she is too much of a distraction until this is all over. Do not force my hand, boy.”
Sean stood up, facing his liege. He was half a head taller and far more muscular. “And I told you that I would kill you if you tried.”
The Marshall had a temper, but it was one that he controlled admirably. It would not do for him to fly in Sean’s face; the Lord of the Shadows could not be intimidated. William had known Sean long enough to know that. But he could see something in Sean’s eyes that he had never seen before. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but he knew he didn’t like it.
He put a hand on Sean’s shoulder, in apology and acquiescence. “You probably would,” he muttered. “But I am serious, Sean. I need your focus, now more than ever. It concerns me to hear you speak of deviating from our plans.”
Sean backed down somewhat, but he was still unsteady. “I was simply asking a question,” he offered weakly, though they both knew it was not the truth. “Nothing will deter me in my quest to marry Sheridan. You may as well know that I would give up my mission if it meant not having her.”
It was a blow to William to hear that. He knew it would do no good to rage. All he could do was bargain. The Marshall had made a life out of bargaining and he was very successful at it. But this bargain would prove to be particularly critical.
“Then I will strike a deal with you,” William said. “Will you hear me?”
“I always do.”
“I need for you to stay where you are for the time being. You are far too valuable to our cause to give this up so easily. We cannot know how this battle will go or even how the next few days will go. I need you on the inside to observe and report. If John says you will go to the Marches, then go you will. It is vitalthat you remain loyal to him until the tides turn in our favor. For this continued service, I will make you a promise.”
“What is that?”
The Marshall’s dark eyes glittered. “You will have Sheridan St. James upon your return from the Marches. I swear to you that she will be yours but only if you see this task through. I cannot promise anything to a man who would turn from his duty.”
Sean had never known William Marshall to make a vow he could not keep. There were many years of trust between them. “And just how will you accomplish this if Jocelin is so opposed to the idea?”
“You must trust me.”
Sean could not doubt him. He nodded, his jaw ticking with the reservation he could not voice. Suddenly, a small figure entered the doorway, casting a shadow against the dying sunlight. Startled, Sean and William turned to see Gilby entering the chapel. He had a queer look on his face.
“Sean?” Gilby paused just inside the door. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”
“And so you have found me,” Sean replied. “Is something wrong? Where is de Braose?”
Gilby jabbed a thumb in the general direction of the Tower grounds. “In my bed,” he said. “He is very broken up inside.”
Sean nodded. “I assumed as much. Gerard is, if nothing else, thorough in his brutality.”
Gilby shook his head. “But de Braose is not why I was looking for you.”
“What is it, then?”
The old man lifted his shoulders, unsure where to begin. “I was on the wall near the Bell Tower, you see, searching for the best avenue in which to remove young de Braose. There isthe tunnel near the Bell and Middle Towers, and there is the Traitor’s Gate that leads to the river, and.…”
Sean put up his hand to silence him. It was the first time he’d ever seen Gilby rattled. “What has you so stricken, old man?”
“I just wanted you to know where I was when I spied it, clear as day, jaunting along the road to the Tower gate.”