Chapter Nine #3
Outside of the manor, it was cool and clear for January.
Fat puffy clouds danced overhead as Alys led Sheridan into the elegant formal garden.
Lady de Warenne was an avid gardener and all manner of flowering shrub covered the grounds.
Though most were dormant at this time of year, some still held their bloom.
Alys fussed over the one and only blossom in the entire garden, inhaling its non-existent scent until she sneezed.
But Sheridan had no interest in the garden. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Though they’d spent much time walking the pebbled path, she’d paid little attention to the surroundings. She could have been in a blighted desert for all of the attention she was paying it.
Finding the small lover’s bench lodged under a silver birch, she sat on the cold stone and brooded.
She could still feel the delicious sensations of Sean’s lips against hers and the extraordinary power of his embrace that made her feel as if nothing else in the world mattered.
She would give anything to feel that again, but the more time passed, the more impossible that chance seemed.
She was terrified that Neely had killed Sean in his jealousy; all she knew was that Neely had struck Sean across the back of the head with the hilt of his sword, sending Sean to the ground in an unconscious heap.
She had seen all of it. She had fought with Neely even as he had picked her up and carried her from the Tower grounds, so much so that she had ripped several gashes with her fingernails into his neck.
Neely hadn’t so much as uttered a sound as the pain tore through him; he held her tightly and carried her off on horseback.
The last Sheridan had seen of Sean was several Glastonbury men kicking his limp body in the moonlight, pounding the man they had all grown to fear.
It had been a horrible sight, one she tried desperately to forget.
But she couldn’t forget, no matter how hard she tried.
She and Neely had ridden for an hour before reaching Watford House.
Sheridan had been exhausted and nearly incoherent by the time they arrived at the fortified manor.
Neely had left right away to return to London but not before making all attempts to apologize to Sheridan; he didn’t want her hating him.
Her response had been to spit on him. He had his answer and, bitterly, returned to the brewing battle.
So Sheridan found herself still at Watford House, feeling no differently than she had three days ago.
Her anger had turned bitter, her hurt to anguish.
She was learning to hate those around her, including Alys.
It was wrong and she knew it, yet her reason was unsteady these days.
She was desperate to find Sean, desperate to know if he had survived the ambush.
Dead or alive, something inside of her had to know.
As she sat on the small lover’s bench beneath the barren tree, she began to realize that her only course of action, her only hope, was to escape back to London. Foolish as it was, she could think on nothing else.
Alys was still studying the shrubs and ended up chasing a lizard across the pebbled path.
Sheridan watched her younger sister, knowing she could easily manipulate the girl into obeying her wishes.
If she was to escape this place, then she had to remove herself from Alys’ presence. The plan in her mind began to grow.
“Alys,” she said softly. “Would you do something if I asked you?”
Alys perked up. “Of course, Dani. What would you have me do?”
Sheridan averted her gaze to her hands, resting in her lap. She found that she couldn’t look her sister in the eye. “I find that I am rather hungry. Would you go to the kitchens and prepare a meal for me?”
Alys’s features lifted joyfully. “Of course I will. What would you like?”
Sheridan shrugged. “I have a craving for an almond pudding. But that would take much effort, wouldn’t it?”
“Not at all,” Alys said, thrilled that her sister was actually interested in food. “I’ll tell the cook to prepare it right away. Is there anything else you would like?”
Sheridan pretended to think. “I would like fresh bread. White bread, without a hint of brown in it. And lots of butter.”
Alys nodded swiftly, making mental notes of her sister’s wishes. “Almond pudding and fresh bread. I will tell the cook right away.”
As Alys sprinted for the entry into the manor, Sheridan stopped her. “Alys, you will stay and make sure they prepare everything fresh, will you not? I cannot stomach anything that is not freshly prepared. And I trust you to see that it is done correctly.”
Alys nodded eagerly and dashed inside without another word.
Sheridan waited until she was sure Alys wouldn’t return before bolting from the bench.
She remembered where the stables were from the day they had arrived.
Wrapping the deep green cloak about her tightly, she made haste for the livery and prayed with every step that her deceptive request to Alys would give her enough time to do as she must. She didn’t care who she lied to or who she coerced, just so long as she could get away from Watford House.
She had to find Sean.