Page 63 of Never Love a Lord
“Fine,” he said easily. “Come to think of it, I’ve not seen him myself since yesterday. Do you think he can be ready by this evening?”
“Yes,” she said. “He’s quite efficient. I will employ the brawnier of the stable hands to load our things once night has fallen. They have little interest in what goes on outside the stable walls, and their curiosity will not be engaged. We shall meet in your chamber at midnight.”
“Mmm,” Julian said with a smile and drew her near once more. “That sounds promising.” Lucy obviously took the lady’s proximity to mean that she was being transferred, and threw herself happily at Sybilla, who laughed and awkwardly caught the baby before drawing her head against her cheek.
Then she did give Julian a smile. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by one of the gate guards entering the hall and striding toward them. Sybilla slid from his embrace and stepped a respectable distance away.
“Milady,” the man said, stopping before the dais with a bow. “Lord Griffin’s men have returned.”
Sybilla’s head turned swiftly toward him, and Julian did not bother with trying to hide his shock.
“Erik, you mean?”
“Sir Erik, yes, but also the soldiers. All of them,” the man clarified stiffly, glancing at Sybilla. “They said you were expecting them.”
Julian could feel Sybilla’s wariness from where she stood. “No, I told him I would send word in a month, not to come before then.” He looked to Sybilla. “I wasn’t expecting them,” he said in a low voice, knowing how this must look to her. “I can’t deny them, though—it would greatly arouse suspicion, and we aren’t ready.”
Sybilla regarded the soldier with tense resignation. “Open the gates, give the soldiers entry. Bring Lord Griffin’s general to him.”
“At once, milady.” The soldier bowed and then was away again.
Julian turned to her, ready to receive the storm of her accusations, but she was grim, determined, even as she rubbed Lucy’s back in comforting circles. “If all the men are inside the walls, perhaps there will be fewer to see us leave.” She jiggled the baby on her hip and looked into her face. “Isn’t that right, Lady Lucy? They shall never see us.”
“Nah-nah-nah!”
Julian stared at Sybilla for a moment, speechless. “Thank you for believing me.”
She stared back, then shrugged as if it were nothing. “I keep my promises. They were coming in, any matter. Better at my request than not.”
The men must have been waiting just beyond the doors, or else they came running at being granted entrance, for in the next moment, Erik and one other man Julian was only vaguely familiar with entered the hall, a pair of Sybilla’s guards following them closely.
Erik did not look happy, and so Julian called out to him. “Ho, Erik, what brings you here without my summons? And who is this in your company?”
Erik’s jaw was set, his words spoken between clenched teeth. “This is not my doing, Julian.”
The stranger stepped forward. “Lord Julian Griffin and Lady Sybilla Foxe?” he demanded.
“Yes,” Julian said, his patience wearing thin. “And just who the bloody hell are you?”
The man pulled a rolled parchment from his vest and unfurled it, clearing his throat before reading aloud. “It is hereby proclaimed that Lord Julian Griffin is wanted by the Crown, Our Sovereign Lord, King Edward, under charges of aiding and abetting a traitor to the Crown, and conspiring to commit treason.”
“I beg your pardon?” Julian shouted.
The man turned to Sybilla, who was now holding Lucy close to her face, breathing in the simple scent of the child while her heart pounded in her chest.
“Lady Sybilla Foxe, upon grounds of treason, espionage, and insubordination to the Crown, you are both hereby placed under arrest. It is my duty to accompany you to the king for your immediate trial.” The man rolled up the parchment and looked at them both. “How do you answer?”
“How do I answer?” Julian demanded. “Fuck off, is how I answer! Erik, what is the meaning of this?”
“ ’Twas Murrin,” Erik answered stiffly, his eyes only flicking to Sybilla. “She was only pretending at being ill, Julian. She thought she was protecting you and Lucy. Perhaps she is.”
“Murrin?” Julian repeated incredulously, and then his brows lowered further as he caught Erik’s insinuation. “You don’t know anything about it, Erik.”
Then the nagging sensation that something was missing, which Sybilla had felt since last night in Julian’s bed, found its answer. The miniature portrait of Amicia and Sybil de Lairne. She’d had it in her hand the first night she’d come to Julian’s bed, but she’d never seen it again and thought she had simply misplaced it. But the next day had been when Murrin came upon Sybilla and Julian and Lucy in the solar, when Julian had suggested marriage to her.
The solar with the door that had been open at the time.
Murrin had left Fallstowe that day.
