Page 66 of Stay with Me

He had always appreciated that he could be honest about his struggles with Walter, who responded with such wisdom and patience. “I confess that I fear the depth of my attraction to my wife. I fear such desire will turn me into a man commanded by his lusts and selfish needs the way Simon is.”

Walter watched him with his fullest attention, his eyes as kind as always. “If you make it your goal to always put her needs above your own, then you do not need to be afraid of anything.”

Was that what Walter had done? Put Jane’s mother’s needs above his own? If only Jane’s mother had set aside her grief for her husband and allowed herself to see past Walter’s plain appearance to love him in return.

“The lusts of our flesh can control us powerfully.” Walter offered one of his warm smiles. “But sacrificial love, when given freely, has the greatest power of all.”

Nicholas nodded, taking in the counsel he hadn’t realized he’d so desperately needed. He wanted to be different for Sybil. Maybe there was hope after all that he could learn to love her the right way.

Walter stood once more from his stool, retrieved a clean piece of parchment, and placed it on one of the other writing tables. “I am guessing you have come to me for more than marriage advice and a marriage certificate. But I shall create one for you before closing shop. Then we will share a meal in my quarters, and you will tell me everything.”

Nicholas glanced at the door and then took a step closer to Walter. “I cannot deny that I am in peril.”

“Simon has a bounty on your head.”

A stone settled in Nicholas’s stomach. “Then everyone in Dover is aware?”

“Simon’s riders have come through now twice.” Walter situated his ink and pen before sitting down in front of the blank sheet.

Nicholas’s muscles tensed. How long before someone sent word to Simon’s men that he was here at Walter’s? “I should go. My presence here will only cause you harm.”

“We have time.” Walter dipped the quill into the pot, tapped it to release the extra blots, then lifted it and made several quickmarks. “You must leave when the town gates open at dawn and go north by way of the sea. I know of a fisherman who will take you as far as Ramsgate.”

Walter was right. Simon’s men would likely be lying in wait near the gates, expecting him to travel north by horse. By the time they realized he’d left by sea, it would be too late for them to predict where he’d gone.

“Unless you need a ship to take you directly to London.” Walter didn’t glance up as his pen scratched against the parchment, words taking shape, but it was clear the man knew exactly why Nicholas had come to visit him.

“I have it now.” Walter sat at the table in his upstairs room, bent over a sheet filled with mathematical equations. The light of the candle still glowed even though the stub had burned down to a puddle of tallow.

Nicholas stood next to the thick-paned window where he’d been keeping watch for most of the long night as Walter went through the meticulous steps of deciphering which letters each number represented. In French.

Walter’s history was complicated, and he preferred to keep it private. From the little Nicholas had gleaned, he knew Walter’s grandfather had been a tutor to royalty. He’d been cast aside for a reason Walter had never explained, and at some point joined a guild of scriveners.

Thus, Walter had gained a better education than even Nicholas had received during his years fostered out for his knight training. Alas, Walter didn’t share his knowledge with most people. Only a few trusted men knew about his code-breaking skills, and Nicholas was amongst them—had stumbled upon the information by accident when he’d once barged intoWalter’s home in Rye and discovered him scribbling out math problems.

Nicholas surveyed the street, still deserted save for a cat scurrying about and nightmen emptying latrines. He didn’t want anyone barging in on Walter now, not when he was so close to breaking the code.

“’Tis a reverse alphabet withAequaling twenty-five minus twelve.” Walter continued to write rapidly on the parchment.

Nicholas didn’t know what any of Walter’s comments meant. But his muscles loosened, and he allowed himself to take his first deep breath in hours.

Walter had discarded his cap long ago while they’d shared a simple fare of fish and bread washed down with ale. Now his hair stood on end from running his fingers through it so oft. “I knew they would not make the code overly difficult, not if they expected Simon’s scribe to translate it.”

From the way the darkness was slowly dissipating, dawn was not far off. And then would begin another harrowing day of traveling and praying he could keep Simon’s men on his trail while also holding them at bay.

Hopefully, the furious scratching of Walter’s quill meant the days of running and hiding would soon be over. “Thank you, my friend. You have been a godsend.”

“I am pleased to do it, sire. I would like to see you free of Simon’s wiles—” Walter drew in a sharp breath and stared at a line of letters spelling out something in French. Although Nicholas was able to speak French proficiently, his skills in reading it were lacking.

Walter glanced up, his forehead creased with more lines than usual. “The news is urgent, sire.” His gaze darted to the window, then to the closed door that led to the shop below. “The French are organizing an attack on Saint Medard’s Day.”

Nicholas’s blood turned to ice. He quickly counted the days remaining until then. Three, if he didn’t include the day of the attack. “Does it say where?”

Walter read the message again. “They plan to land at Ramsgate and march to Canterbury in the night. They want Simon to find a way to unlock Newingate.”

Curses upon Simon. Would he betray his own country this way?

Nicholas paced to the door, then back to the window, his mind spinning with the gravity of the situation. It was, indeed, urgent and needed to be relayed to the king with all haste. This was no longer about proving his innocence of treachery. This was about saving their beloved city from marauders.

---