I said, because I couldn't imagine who else it could be. You told me the man you overheard had fought in the Holy Land, but even then it didn't occur to me it could be Hugh. Hugh's a cold-blooded bastard, but I couldn't believe that even he could be so base as to betray his own king and country. And I wouldn't have believed it, unless I'd seen him with my own eyes, skulking among the trees, watching for the Santa Katarina. He was expecting that ship. He must have been the man you heard in the chamber, how else could he have known about it? And why would he have been trying to conceal himself, if he wasn't afraid of being caught by the king's men?'
'Then you have to take me away from here before he comes back, you have to ... if he knows it was me who heard him, he'll kill me!'
'I can't!' Raffaele snapped. Then he took a deep breath. His voice was heavy with weariness. 'Hugh can't be certain you heard anything. In fact he must believe by now that you didn't. I've taken great care not to tell anyone what I suspect, in case he realizes what you overheard. Hugh's bound to have heard that Osborn's missing villein is a red-head, and if he glimpsed your red curls that night outside the chamber, he may well have made the connection. But. . .' Raffaele held up a warning hand seeing that she was about to protest again, 'but don't you see that means he's looking for a red-head? That's all he knows of you, and you're not that woman any more.'
Raffaele crossed over to her and slipped off her cap. He pulled the pins from one of the braids and let it fall. Then, with an almost childlike curiosity, he ran his fingers down it, unravelling the braid, letting the long dark hair fall in soft waves across his palm. Elena, her thoughts still occupied with her fear of Hugh, was too bemused to move. Raffaele gently rubbed the locks of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, then his gaze lifted to her face and, bending his head close to her, his lips parted and she felt his hot breath on her mouth. She stiffened, flinching away.
Raffe instantly straightened up, letting her hair fall. He turned abruptly back to the casement, but not before Elena glimpsed the dark flush on his cheeks.
'It is your eyes,' he said in a strangely broken voice. He cleared his throat. 'Luce has done her work well with your hair, and the colour of your brows changes the shape of your face, but still anyone would know your eyes. Though you need have no fears about that where Hugh is concerned, I doubt he's ever noticed a woman's eyes.'
Elena, thrown entirely by his abrupt change of tone, could only stare at him.
Raffaele crossed to the door and opened it. 'If Hugh returns, just stay out of sight,' he said without looking back at her.
Seeing him stride away snapped Elena out of her immobility. She ran after him, catching his arm. 'Please, Master Raffaele, please take me with you. I could stay in an inn or find work as a maid in the town. You said no one would recognize me.'
He looked down at the little fingers grasping his sleeve and for a moment she almost thought he was going to agree, then he seized her wrist and roughly thrust her back into the chamber.
'I told you, you will stay here! Do you think I'm Athan or some frog-witted plough-boy who's nothing better to do than dance attendance on you and your selfish little wants? I saved you from the rope, what more do you expect of me? And not one word more about your dreams, do you understand? Better you confess you put a knife in a man's back with your own hand than that you killed him by witchcraft. It is dangerous, can't you see that, you stupid little fool? And I won't be there to save your wretched neck next time.'
The door crashed shut behind him and Elena stood there, massaging her wrist. Tears filled her eyes, tears of fear, rage and anger, but above all misery. For she suddenly realized that the only person in the world she really trusted, the only person who had believed in her innocence, had just walked away from her. Until that moment she had never understood so completely how