Page 33 of The Rose at Twilight

Lifting her chin, Alys said, “I did, and I have no intention to return, sir.”

He shook his head, his amusement clear now. “You cannot have thought the matter through, mistress. You cannot wish to live in the manner that would be required of you here.”

She was silent. He was right. The cottage was not at all the sort of house to which she was accustomed, and already it had begun to seem small beyond reason, as though its inhabitants trod upon one another in going about their daily business.

Mary Hawkins was not only older than Jonet, but more like Davy, and after the weeks on the road with the players, kind and amusing though Alys had found them, she longed for proper servants, proper surroundings, and most of all, an indoor privy.

She had been avoiding Lovell’s gaze, but she met it now directly.

“I have no wish to live here indefinitely, but I cannot return to Wolveston. Not only are there soldiers there still—”

“I know.” He grinned at her.

“You know? Were you there?”

“Briefly, after Bosworth. We had gone before any soldiers arrived, but I keep my eye on Wolveston. Your brother may have bowed to Harry, but I warrant he would harbor me again even so.”

“He will not harbor me, however, and I cannot return to London, for you must know that having displeased the king I should most likely find myself back in the Tower like Neddie. ’Tis a pleasant residence for royalty, but not so pleasant for those confined there against their will, as I was before.”

“Tell me.”

She obliged him with a recounting of her recent history, and though he laughed at some things, he was sympathetic toward the young Warwick, and understood Alys’s desire to avoid the Tower.

“Still, I do not know what else you can do, mistress, for if your brother be content to leave you in the king’s ward, you can have no recourse but to obey Harry’s commands.”

“But you cannot want me to wed a traitor!”

“No one will ask for my advice or my consent.”

She sighed, and he rose a few moments later to leave her, pausing on the threshold to extract a promise that she would at least consider returning to the capital, where she might be of some use to those few remaining Yorkists who still had it in mind to annoy Henry Tudor.

In his turn, Lovell promised that he would not abandon her but would visit her again one day if he could do so without endangering himself or her in the process.

“I must think of things to do in the meantime to keep the royal mind occupied,” he said, clapping his hat to his head and turning to leave.

Sudden noise from the street stopped him in his tracks.

Davy hurried in from the passageway, and a heavy pounding at the door sounded as he hissed, “Soldiers in the street, master!”

“Let them in,” Lovell said. Shooting Alys a mischievous grin, he jerked his cap lower over his eyes and pulled his long hair forward to cover more of his face. Then swiftly, he turned toward the parlor hearth, snatching a log from the basket, and kneeling to make himself busy with the little fire.

Alys waited tensely while Davy hastened to open the door.

She never doubted for a moment who would be standing on the other side, though if anyone had asked how she knew, she would have been unable to tell them.

First there were ringing footsteps on the stones of the passageway.

Then several men entered the parlor, filling it, but the first one she recognized was Sir Nicholas, and despite an undeniable flash of relief in his eyes when he saw her, she knew instantly that he was furious.

Still helmeted, he pushed Davy aside as he came through the doorway, looking even taller than she remembered and saying grimly, “I am glad to have found you, Lady Alys. I had rather be serving my king with my sword, but for my pains in once having delivered you safely to him, I am commanded to repeat the trick. You may collect your belongings. We do not tarry.” Glancing at Lovell, who was groveling at his feet by now, he added gruffly, “Begone, man! You may finish that task anon.”

“Aye, master.” And Lovell was gone on the words, backing obsequiously through the door and shutting it behind him.

Alys watched him go with mixed feelings of relief and abandonment.

She had no wish to face Sir Nicholas alone.

Not that they were alone. Not when Hugh and the three other men with him made the room seem as close as a sumpter pack.

She glanced at them, then back at Sir Nicholas, raising her chin.

“I have no wish to return to London, sir.”

He glared at her. “You will do—” He broke off and said sharply to his men, “Leave us. Go into the street or the back garden, or perhaps you will find warmth in the kitchen.”

Thinking Lovell would have gone to the kitchen rather than out where he would meet more of Sir Nicholas’s men, Alys said hastily, “The kitchen is small, sir, and will be smoky, for the cook fire is in the center and there is no proper chimney.”

Sir Nicholas glanced at the hearth, where Lovell’s efforts had produced less than admirable results.

“The kitchen cannot be worse than this will be in three minutes’ time, for that lout did not do his work properly.

Here, Hugh, see what you can do with that fire before you go, or else we shall be suffocated in here. ”

“No doubt you frightened him,” Alys said, paling when she realized that the others were going to the kitchen. That fact and the sight of Hugh made her wonder where Jonet was and why she had not come to the parlor the minute she knew they had visitors.

Sir Nicholas had been looking at her, and now he said in a gentler voice than he had used before, “What is it, mi geneth? Are you affrighted, too?”

“No,” she said, too caught up in her own thoughts to wonder at the change in his tone, “but I am concerned that Jonet or her sister may be terrified when those men burst into their kitchen.”

“Then Mistress Hawkins is here.” He glanced at Hugh, still kneeling over the fire, and said, “I had heard so, and am glad that the Lord did spare her.” When Alys said nothing, he added, “My men will not harm her or her sister, as you must know if you give the matter thought, and too, they will be gone the sooner for your quick obedience to my command.”

Depression settled over her at the realization that he meant simply to return her to London like a stray lamb to the fold, and that she could not fight him.

If she did, she knew he would just pick her up bodily and order one of his men to collect her things.

Ian, no doubt. That thought brought a gasp of dismay.

“I pray you, sir, you must not punish Ian.”

“He did only what I bade him do, mistress. He was commanded to serve you. I disagree with his interpretation of my command, but I do not fault him for obeying it. You, however …” He said no more, but his expression spoke volumes.

Alys said through clenched teeth, “I won’t marry a traitor.”

“You will do as you are bid,” he retorted, “and, pray, do not trifle with me, lass, for I am not presently in possession of my customary good humor. I had counted on service in the field to prove myself to his noble grace, hoping to be rewarded with English lands to go with my new title, but your action deprived me of that opportunity. I have worn my temper out, scouring the English countryside in search of you, so do not vex me more, but go and prepare yourself to travel, and that right swiftly.”

“How did you find me?”

“I set Hugh to search London in the unlikely event that you had got assistance from a Yorkist faction there, while I traveled north in the greater certainty that you would make for Wolveston. When there was no word of you there, I rode on, thinking you might seek sanctuary at Middleham, not realizing it is now in royal hands. I did even,” he added with a grimace, “journey to Drufield Manor. You are well out of that place, mistress.”

“Aye,” she agreed. “What then?”

“Hugh and his men, not finding you in London, followed us to Wolveston. Finding us gone north, Hugh thought to inquire after the well-being of Mistress Hawkins and learned that someone else had made a similar inquiry just before him. He sent for me and met me on the road. But you dally, lass. Collect your things.”

The door opened, and Jonet entered behind him, curtsying and saying politely, “God give you a good day, Sir Nicholas. Will you stay to sup with us? ’Tis only Lenten fare, I fear.”

“Nay, mistress,” he said, turning. “I have come to take her ladyship back to London. We will depart within the hour.”

Jonet folded her hands at her waist, looked directly at him and said, “I will pack our things at once, sir.” Then, before he could respond, she gasped, clapped a hand to her bosom, and stared beyond him at Hugh, who had finished his task at the hearth and rose now to his full height.

He regarded her with keen approval. “You look prickling pert again, lass. Tis glad we are to see you so.”

Recovering herself, Jonet nodded brusquely at him, pressed her lips tightly together, and turned to leave.

“One moment, Mistress Hawkins,” Sir Nicholas said.

“Yes, sir?”

Thinking he meant to forbid Jonet to accompany them, Alys said swiftly, “She goes with me, sir, or I will defy you every step of the way and complain of your treatment when we arrive.”

“Almost you tempt me, mi geneth ,” he said softly, adding in a louder tone to Jonet, “Prithee, tell Ian we depart very soon.”