Speechless that a father could treat a child so, William kept his mouth shut. The man’s responsibility had been to protect her—to care for her, not place her in danger. Above the sound of blood rushing through his head, his mind shouted, She was but a babe herself. How could you?
The feel of Sarah’s fingers against his cheek drew him from the sudden, evil urge to kill the man with his bare hands. ‘William, do not.’
He shook his head, trying to clear away the vicious thoughts of revenge. ‘Do not what?’
‘Do not fret for the child. She survived.’
Survived? He knew exactly what it was to simply survive. He’d done so by using his wits and size. As a child, she’d had neither. She’d deserved more than simple survival. He covered her hand with his own. Rubbing his cheek across her palm, he kissed it, then asked, ‘How did you come to be with the Queen’s court?’
‘My father’s men convinced him to take me to the nearby abbey. But when he discovered that he would have to pay for my keep, he refused to do so. After that, they had to bully him into bringing me to the King and Queen. The men thought perhaps Henry or Eleanor might be better able to find me a family in which to foster.’
‘Yet, the Queen kept you at court instead of finding you another place. Why?’
‘I don’t know.’ Sarah shrugged. ‘By then it did not matter to me. I’d learned not to care. If I simply did as I was told, I would have food and shelter. What else was there?’
Food and shelter. He was amazed that at six years old she’d managed to think and survive as an animal would.
‘What of your father?’
‘I’ve neither seen nor spoken to him since the day he left me at court.’ She sent him an uneven half-smile. ‘It is probably better that way.’
There was little wonder that she’d done whatever the Queen had asked. He now understood why Sarah felt the Queen had treated her justly. His wife would have felt indebted to any who had shown her anything other than anger.
He reached out and cupped her cheek, drawing her closer. Uncertain what to say, or do, William only wanted to offer her a measure of comfort.
Sarah closed her eyes as his breath rushed warm across her cheek. In her hope to make him understand the things she’d done, she had said too much, revealed more than she’d ever intended. Worse—she’d given him the impression that she needed his compassion, his pity, when she wanted neither.
Before he could kiss her, she placed a hand against his chest and held him away. ‘William, don’t.’
He leaned back. Confusion furrowing his brows. ‘I—’
‘No. Do not feel sorry for me. I am no longer that child. What happened to her has no bearing on my life today. I do not need, or want, your pity.’
‘No bearing?’ He lowered his arms from around her. ‘It has impacted your every action.’
‘Do you at least understand why I do not see Queen Eleanor, or her requests, in the same light as others may?’
While it was true that Sarah did not know the chafe of ankle irons, or the weight of chains, she had been as much a slave as he. ‘I may see it, Sarah, but I do not agree she was right in making those decisions. She used your circumstances against you.’
Now Sarah shared William’s confusion. ‘Isn’t using another person simply the way of things? Aren’t most marriage contracts formed on the basis of what each party brings to the union? Are not keeps fortified with men suited to their position? I do not understand what you think Queen Eleanor did wrong.’
William traced the outline of her jaw. ‘I have not the words to argue with you. But, Sarah, now that you are out from beneath the Queen’s control, you will find that your life can be different than the one you’ve known.’
Except she wasn’t out from beneath the Queen’s control. Her life would always be the same. She couldn’t very well tell William that, though. Instead, she glanced at a spot just beyond his shoulder and said, ‘We shall see.’
He leaned slightly to the side, coming directly into her line of vision. He’d let her know, without words, that he’d seen her ruse. Most people never realised that while her face was pointed in their direction, she wasn’t actually looking at them.
It only confirmed her belief that this husband of hers was too clever by far.
William rose. ‘I will see to the horses.’ He leaned over and kissed her forehead. ‘Then we can retire for the night.’
She said nothing. But after he’d left, Sarah glanced nervously at the darkened sky. Normally she welcomed darkness and the solitude it brought.
Regardless of the season, she would wander the castle walls at night. The twinkling stars were the only company she’d required. Night was a quiet time when the world slept, and she was left alone with her dreams and wishes. So alone, that at times, it nearly felt as if she lost herself to physically mingle with the celestial bodies.
But tonight…tonight she dreaded the rising of the moon and the unanswerable questions it would bring.
Guilt nagged at her. Every thought in her head urged her to withhold the truth from him. Since she would not remain with him for long, logic dictated that she protect herself with silence.
Sarah’s stomach clenched at the thought. Even though she would not be wed to him for ever, he’d been kind. And in one very long day he’d made her weak with desire using nothing more than a kiss. He’d teased her. Not in a cruel way, but in a manner that made her heart secretly laugh, even when she was scowling.
More than those things, he’d urged her to talk, and then he had listened. Even when the listening seemed to have horrified him, he had not stopped her.
Somehow, before it was too late, she had to convince her heart not to be foolish. These simple acts of kindness were nothing on which to build a life. These misplaced images of her and William together, running rampant through her mind, were nothing more than pity for the child she’d once been.
Sarah gasped at the sharp pain of regret for that child that laced through her. If she kept this up, she’d soon drown in self-pity. Before that happened, she needed a few minutes alone to compose herself. She jumped up from her seat on the log and headed toward the nearby stream.
From across the small clearing, William’s intent stare nearly singed her back, but he said nothing. Instead, the Earl called out, ‘Lady Sarah, do not wander off alone.’
Before she got too far away, William was at her side. He looked down at her, an unspoken question etched on his face. But he remained silent as he escorted her to a secluded spot in the woods. He let her slip off alone and stood guard until she rejoined him at the edge of the stream.
She immersed her hands in the frigid water, hoping the chill would ease the trembling a few moments alone had not. When that failed, she splashed the water on her face. If nothing else, maybe it would calm the worry heating her cheeks.
‘Sarah, come.’
She bit back a tart comment about following him like a loyal dog and fell silently in step behind him. When they returned to the camp, Hugh and Adrienna were curled together beneath a cover on the far side of the fire.
Suddenly terrified of what lay ahead, she stood rooted to the ground, watching William. He cleared sticks and stones from the earth, before unrolling covers for their makeshift bed.
He sat on the log to unlace, then remove his boots before he moved to the bed and stretched out on his side. He stared up at her and extended his arm, inviting her to willingly come to him, giving her the choice.
Sarah wanted to run away from William’s outstretched