Page 62 of Exile's Return

‘Which page?’ she asked aloud. Like most of Spenser’s work, it was a long, rambling poem.

She sat down at the table and, opening the book, laid the paper over the first page. The paper fitted the page size exactly but none of the holes aligned with the text. On the second page, the holes aligned but the resulting letters were nonsensical.

On the fifteenth page of the poem, she ran her fingers over the page, feeling the slight indentations he had used to mark the letters. Holding her breath she laid the paper over it and, painstakingly extricating each letter, read the message James had left.

The children guard that which they seek.

Just to be certain she checked all the other pages of the poem, but this was the only one that made sense and the only page with the indentations.

‘What does that mean?’ she asked the dead James.

But he deigned not to answer.

The children were the clue. Her mind ranged through the well-remembered corridors and rooms of Charvaley. The nursery? She took a steadying breath. Who would think to search for gold in a children’s nursery?

She jumped at the gentle rap on the door, but before she could answer, the door opened and Daniel sauntered in, his jacket unlaced and the cloth loose around his neck. She set the book and paper on the table and rose to meet him.

‘Lady Thornton said you were unwell,’ he said.

‘I was … I am,’ she replied.

‘But I would like you to meet Kit.’

‘I have met him,’ she responded, conscious of the hard edge to her words.

‘I wanted you to know that you were right, Agnes…Kit paid a heavy price for my Pardon.’

‘And all is resolved between you?’

He nodded. ‘Much lost time to catch up on but I think we have reached an understanding and for that, I have you to thank.’

She shook her head. ‘Please don’t thank me.’

I couldn’t bear it.

‘Agnes…’ He reached out, cupping the back of her head in his hand and drawing her toward him. She recognised the look in his eyes, a wolfish, hungry look, for what it was — lust.

She knocked his hand aside and took a step back.

‘No,’ she said before he could speak.

A flash of anger creased his brow but was gone as quickly as it came. He dropped his hand and stared at her, a frown creasing his forehead.

‘I don’t understand … ’ he began.

Fuelled by her resolution not to allow a repeat of the night before, Agnes brought her chin up and glared at him. ‘You presumed because I came willingly to your bed once that I would do so again? You were wrong. I will not be used or presumed upon again.’

As I was by James.

He reached out and stroked her cheek, a frown creasing his forehead. ‘Is it something I said…something I did? I thought…that you and I…’

At his touch, Agnes’s resolve began to waver. His gentle caress sent shivers of desire running down her spine.

It took an effort, but she batted away his hand.

How could she explain that it was precisely because the nature of their relationship had changed that she had to turn him away? For both their sakes she had to make the cut and make it deep.

‘I came to you last night for one reason only. Because you needed me. But not tonight. I am not a whore to be used at your convenience.’