the tower. The captain of the yeomen led her through a maze of stone corridors and walls. She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the rain—it was the emotion rising from the walls, all of the suffering that had happened between their hard surfaces. A raven called out and others answered. The black birds swooped down from the sky to land beneath the eaves of the tower roofs. They stared down at her, looking sinister with their feathers slick and shiny from the rain. Their steps echoed on the cobblestones and she swore that she heard the faint sounds of drums echoing from an execution.
“We gave Lord Hurst a decent room. Not bad at all.” The captain pointed up at one of the round towers that was built into the inner wall. “That’s the bell tower. Our good queen Bess was staying there when she was just a princess. It’s got a view of the Thames.”
And the scaffold on Tower Green…
Helena swallowed her horror. “Thank you for your kindness.”
“Well now, we appreciate the noble behavior of your husband. That Lord Ronchford made quite the fuss. We stuck him somewhere where we don’t have to listen to his bellowing.”
There was a sick enjoyment flickering in the yeoman’s eyes. But Helena imagined that it was the sort of thing that kept a man sane while living and working within the Tower.
“You’ll have the use of the wall up there once the weather clears up a bit. Of course, your husband is Scottish, so I imagine a little rain doesn’t bother him any too much.”
“How nice.”
The yeoman’s lips twitched, almost as though he was enjoying her struggle to maintain civility while they moved deeper into the fortress.
“Right up these stairs. You understand that you have the right to leave, but once you go, you may not return.”
The stairs were narrow and dark. Wind blew down them but it was still musty. None of those things deterred her. Keir was there, up the last few steps and behind a locked door. The rattle of keys bounced between the sides of the stairway as the yeoman pulled a ring from his belt.
“Do you understand, my lady?”
Helena lifted her chin. “I do, sir. I will not be leaving until my husband does.”
He didn’t believe her. The look on his face showed her a man who had seen too many prisoners deserted by their spouses when the years began to pass. Helena stared straight back at him, unwavering in her determination.
“Well then. I wish you well, lady.”
He fit the key into the door and turned it. A grinding sound issued from it before the latch opened and he pulled the door wide. The chamber was dark, with light coming only from the fireplace. She stepped boldly inside, seeking the man for whom she longed. He was sitting in a chair, staring at the embers of the fire. Wood was stacked up near the hearth but he had not fed the fire; it was only a faintly glowing bed of coals.
Her husband swore.
His eyes glowed and he cursed even fouler than the first time. His body rose in a powerful motion that made the yeoman next to her reach for his sword.
“Easy now, my lord.”
Keir stepped forward, his anger clear on his face.
“The lady has the king’s permission to visit.”
Keir froze. “Permission to visit?” Suspicion darkened his features. His attention shifted to her and she felt her throat tighten.
Her husband was not pleased.
“Are ye telling me that ye asked to be here?”
His brogue thickened with his anger. He looked at the yeoman. “Would ye excuse us, man?”
The door of the chamber slammed shut. There was the sound of the key grinding in the lock that made her flinch. It sent another shiver down her spine but she did not regret her choice. Even angry, her husband was the dearest sight she had ever beheld. The first true smile lifted her lips since they had been interrupted in their chamber.
“Now dinnae do that.” Keir shook his head, even raised one finger and pointed at her.
“I am not allowed to be happy to see you?”
He closed his eyes and groaned. His face lost its stern expression. It was replaced by a need so fierce it drew a gasp from her. His eyes opened and she stared into eyes that hungered for her.
He scooped her up and she wasn’t even sure when he crossed the distance between them. Helena didn’t care. She clung to him, her arms trying to