did he not want anyone to know that we’d been together?
I couldn’t ask him. The interruption had made us awkward with each other. In darkness, it had been easier to believe that nothing had changed between us. The light gave that the lie. Suddenly we couldn’t meet each other’s eyes.
“This isn’t going to work, is it?” Nat said.
Dread hit me in the pit of the stomach. He’d spoken my fears aloud.
Slowly I said, “I think we need to talk.”
“Yes.”
“You go first,” I told him.
For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t. But then, looking steadily down into the candle flame, he started to speak.
“The reason I was on that ship—the reason I was coming back to England—was to see you.”
That was why he was here?
“Since we parted, I’ve thought of you every day, almost every hour,” he went on. “I’ve hated being so distant from you, but I thought that in the end we’d be stronger for it. And I was hoping the time had finally come when we could be together again. But it’s not that simple, is it? I saw that on the ship. The moment you saw that gag, you sided against me.”
“I had questions, yes.” I couldn’t deny it. “But—”
“You gave the mermaid the benefit of the doubt, again and again. But not me.”
I winced. I hadn’t thought of it that way before. “That was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not an apology I’m after, Lucy. I’m just saying that the trust between us is gone. I’ve been trying to tell myself it doesn’t matter, that we can rebuild—but I’m not sure we can. The way you look at me, the way you speak to me, it’s all changed. We might as well be strangers.”
I was so upset, I couldn’t speak.
More gently, he said, “You must feel it too.”
And the worst of it was, I did. The Nat who had gone away wasn’t the same as the one who was speaking to me now. And I supposed I wasn’t the same Lucy, either. But that he thought of us as strangers—that was as bitter as galls to me.
I meant to stay calm, meant to choose my words carefully, but I suddenly found I couldn’t. “If we’re strangers, whose fault is that?” I said, my voice unsteady. “You’re the one who left me. You’re the one who asked me to stay away. You’re the one who said I mustn’t even write to you.” I hadn’t realized till this moment quite how angry I was about that. Or maybe I had, and I’d buried it. But there was no burying it now.
“I gave you everything you asked for,” I said. “I let them all think there was nothing between us. Even when the Court gossips said that you’d left me because I was too cold, too inhuman to love, I said nothing—”
“They said what?”
I barely registered his words. “I didn’t even tell my friends the truth. I couldn’t; they might have given you away. I was more alone than I’ve ever been. And maybe you’re right; maybe that’s changed me. But in the name of all that’s holy, Nat, how could you walk away from me for a year and a half and then come back and expect me to be the same?”
I turned my back on him and ran up the stairs.
CHAPTER NINE
LOVE SONG
I woke the next morning to a sore ankle and a sodden, weeping sky.
He didn’t come after me, was my first thought.
And then: What did you expect?
His voice echoed again and again in my mind: We might as well be strangers.
By the cold light of morning, I had to admit the truth. He was right. I was a stranger to him, and he to me. There was no trust between us anymore—and no love.
I shut my eyes again. Whatever loneliness I had felt while on the road paled beside this.
The maidservant bustled in, bearing a cup of chocolate. “Good morning to you, my lady. Though good’s not the word for it, really. It’s bucketing, it is. You should see the guards at the gates. They look half-drowned.”
Drowned . . .
I sat up sharply. “The ship. The Dorset. Is she still out there?”
“No, my lady.”
My heart thudded. I shouldn’t have left her unguarded. “What happened?”
“She left for London on the dawn tide,” the maidservant said. “The King and Lord Walbrook and the other councilors left too, on the royal barge. And a good thing, because the rain wasn’t near as bad when they set out.”