Page 51 of Stay with Me

“And?”

“And I desire her.”

The bluntness of Nicholas’s statement sent a flush through Sybil.

Eric didn’t immediately respond. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths in anticipation of his reaction. What would he do? Lash out at Nicholas?

Her muscles tensed, and she flexed her fingers, ready to go for her knife still strapped inside her boot.

“You’ve disrespected her memory,” Eric finally said, his tone radiating with anger. “And you’ve acted rashly and dishonorably.”

Sybil didn’t need anyone to spell out who Eric was referring to. The fact that he thought Nicholas was dishonoring Jane’s memory by getting married was ridiculous. But loss and grief could make people irrational. She’d witnessed that all too often, not only as a PI but also when she’d worked for Kent Police. Maybe she’d even witnessed it with Dawson. He’d let his grief control him so that he lost himself in the process.

“We have paid for our transgressions long enough.” Nicholas’s voice was hard too, and he didn’t let his attention swerve from Eric, as though he anticipated Eric might attack him. Surely the young man wouldn’t do that, would he?

“I’ll never atone for my mistakes. And neither will you. I thought we stood together on that, you and I.”

“I may never atone for her death. But I am no longer dead inside and cannot deny the need that flows through me.”

Eric released a scoffing laugh. “You’re pathetic. I thought you were stronger than that.”

Nicholas didn’t respond except to press his lips into a tight line.

Again, the crackling of the center bonfire was the only sound. Eric glowered at Nicholas for several more seconds before he spun and stalked off. Only after he entered one of the cottages and slammed the door did anyone move. Even then, the conversations were low, and people began to clear away the remnants of the feast.

Beatrice wound her arm through Sybil’s. “Come now, I’ll get you settled into your home and help you into bed.”

“I’ll be fine.” She didn’t want to disturb Beatrice any more than she already had. “Point me in the direction, and I’ll settle myself in.”

Beatrice didn’t let go and instead ushered her forward, a rushlight in one hand, guiding their way as they moved out of the bonfire’s glow. “Nicholas has tasked me with being your servant while the two of you live in the village.”

Sybil halted. “My servant?”

Beatrice’s face creased with distress. “Is it so difficult to believe I was once a lady’s maid?”

“It’s not that.” Sybil scrambled to find the right words. She didn’t want to offend her ally. “I’m sure you’re a fine lady’s maid.”

“I’m one of the best.”

“I believe you. It’s just that I’m used to taking care of myself.”

Beatrice studied Sybil’s face before patting her arm and tugging her along. “From everything I’ve seen so far, you’re as helpless as a babe. In fact, I don’t think I’ve met a lady quite as in need of a maidservant as you.”

She wanted to protest that her ignorance had to do with the difference in eras not in their differences in station. But she was smart enough to know she needed to stay silent about the matter or risk having these people think she was a madwoman.

“Besides,” Beatrice said, “if you send me away, you’ll make Nicholas think you’re ungrateful for his thoughtfulness.”

“Right.”

“He’s being very considerate and only giving you what you’re due as a lady.”

A lady? Sybil almost snorted but held back her scoffing. Beatrice was right. Nicholashadbeen considerate toward her since the moment they’d met, thinking about her needs above his own. Besides, she could benefit from Beatrice’s instruction while she accustomed herself to living in the Middle Ages.

As they arrived at a cottage on the outskirts of the village, the one Father Fritz lived in, Sybil hesitated in the doorway. “I don’t want to take away Father Fritz’s home.”

“Have no worries.” Already stepping inside, Beatrice flicked a hand to dismiss her concern. “He’ll stay with some of the other single fellows and find great enjoyment in doing so.”

Sybil swallowed the rest of her objection. It would do no good to say anything to Father Fritz. The quirky priest would probably respond with something entirely embarrassing.

---