Page 82 of Dawnlands

He knew, with complete certainty, he would live with her for the rest of his life. He savored his joy and hoped that he would live long. The thought of lying with her again filled him with a sense of life renewed; he wanted to hold her gently in his arms and kiss her closed eyelids and whisper that he loved her, that he had always loved her, and that the years apart would be forgotten.

“James, I’m sorry, but you can’t come and live here with me,” she said coolly. “It’s not possible. And you can’t visit again.”

He was astounded. “Alinor!”

She looked at him steadily with her gray gaze. “I am, I’m truly sorry.”

“But why not…?”

“What happened between us was like a death,” she told him slowly. “What happened at the tide mill that day… it can’t be undone.”

“I know!” he said eagerly. “I know that! But we don’t have to spend the rest of our lives apart just because we made a mistake…”

“I’m that sorry to refuse you,” she said gently. “Especially here and now, where I could refuse you nothing.”

“We could bring back that time!”

“Nay, you know you can’t bring back time by wishing.” She turned and started to walk inshore, along the top of the bank, the meadow on her left, the harbor stretching to the horizon on her right. He followed behind her, remembering other times when he had followed her worn boots and trusted that she would take him safely through the quicksands and the mudflats and the deep pools. They came to the lanethat led from the harbor to the little church and walked side by side, in silence, past the mound of the old ruined castle, to the low flint wall of the churchyard. She paused at the lich-gate.

“D’you attend every Sunday?” he asked her.

She nodded. “Imagine! We’re in the first pew at the front. I think Matthew has the right to appoint the vicar.”

He was not to be distracted. “When I die, I should like to be buried here.”

He was glad to see he had startled her. “Here? Not in your family vault at Northallerton?”

“My body has to go there, the funeral will have to be there, and the reading of my will. But I should like my heart to be buried here. In the same grave as you.”

She laughed out loud, and then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh no!” she said. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. I know it’s not funny. Not funny at all!”

At his grave face she could not stop herself; her laugh pealed out again. “No, James, really! Think how horrible for the Nobildonna! To have her husband divided! And how could she explain it to your family and friends? And how should I bury a part of you? And if I’m already dead and it’s poor Alys, she would be so furious and… anyway… why?”

“I want to lay in the same ground as you,” he said stiffly. “I thought my heart could be buried beside you.”

“But won’t that ruin the resurrection of the body?”

He was suddenly furious that she was such an ill-educated woman, wise only in superstitions and fables. That she laughed when something struck her as funny, without considering how she appeared, without understanding that it was not funny; not funny at all. That she was a common woman from common stock and, although he loved her, she would always disappoint him.

“That’s heresy,” he instructed her.

“Is it?” she asked. “I wouldn’t know.”

“No. But I know, and I am telling you.”

She shot an amused smile at him and turned from the lich-gateand started to walk back to the Priory. “I’ve got to rest now,” she told him pleasantly as they walked up the drive shaded with overhanging trees. “I have to cosset myself like an old plow horse. I can’t go too far.”

They walked to the great front door, which was not opened at their approach as it should have been. James had to step forward and open it for Alinor and they went into the hall. “No servants?” he asked.

“I don’t like them waiting around for me,” she said simply. “I can open my own doors and light my own fire.”

He thought she was ill served, and if she had been his wife, she would have had a maid to walk behind her, carrying her gloves; but he said nothing.

“Will you eat before you leave?” she asked simply.

“Before I leave?” Obviously, he could not stay. But he had thought he would choose the time of his leaving. “Will I see you again before I go? At noon?” he asked, holding on to his dignity.

She had no idea that she had offended him. She was trying only to see that he had dinner before he left.