Page 95 of A Tenuous Betrothal
She entered with him right behind her and heard the door lock. Then he pulled the curtains shut and moved a candle to a little table closer to them. He sat on the sofa, and she joined him, though she sat forward so she could see his face while he talked.
At least, she hoped he would talk.
“Intruders like that are rare. That is only the second this year.”
“But you were expecting something like this?”
“Not expecting you to be so closely affected, but I have ordered extra care where you are concerned, so the men were at the ready. They also tend to be watchful when I am in the palace. I knew the possibility that someone could infiltrate our defenses.”
“And those guards—will they always be outside my room?”
“Near enough.” He nodded. When she didn’t respond, he reached for her hand. “Say something.”
She puffed out a breath. “What do you want me to say?”
“How are you?”
She opened her mouth but didn’t know how to respond. Honestly, she was irritated. Tired. Nervous. Worried about Marc leaving tomorrow. A million things ran through her mind, but she didn’t know which were the best ones to vocalize. And what good would it do, anyway? He was here to say goodbye.
A knock at her door and an “Enter” from Marc told her she was finished with her evening anyway.
A man dressed in black stood at the doorway and conversed with Marc in low tones. When Marc returned, he looked troubled. And hesitant.
“Do you need to go?” Rhi sighed. She might as well accept that this was his life. He’d tried to tell her. He simply did not have room for her.
“I do.”
“Will you be riding out now or in a couple of hours?”
“I haven’t decided. I’ll likely not see you after this, though, until I return.”
She nodded. Her heart twisted and wrenched inside, but a cold numbness drifted in, like the early-morning fog. And she welcomed it.
He stepped closer. “I wish things were different.”
“As do I. Marc, go. Be careful. I couldn’t bear it if you were...” She choked on the word she refused to think. “Come back. That’s all I need.”
He nodded. “I had hoped to spare you this.”
“I know. But here we are.”
He pulled her close, wrapping her in a hug that seemed to fill her and tear her apart at the same time. Then he pressed his lips to the top of her head. He kept them there, his hands gripping the folds of her dress. Then he pulled away and, without another look into her face, left the room.
The air seemed to fold in on itself, leaving her with only coldness. She fell back onto the sofa; no tears came. She closed her eyes against the cold and found a brief sort of respite in sleep.
But only minutes had passed when she jerked awake, suddenly aware of one thing. The man on her balcony had been coming for Marc. He’d waited there, hoping to get to him. Even though Marc had been saying this whole time that his work was dangerous, she finally grasped how very real that threat was. Others might try again to get to him, only this time he would not be surrounded by palace guards.
“I must go,” she gasped to herself. She sat up and ran to her maid.
“Catrin, wake up! I must go. I need...” What did she need? Her riding habit? She needed something sensible to wear. Did she own anything sensible? “I need working clothes, something I can ride in that would blend into the night.”
“Miss?” Catrin’s expression was wary and torn.
“I have to go after him. He’s left, but he’s in danger.”
“Miss.”
“Catrin, we must be quick about—”
