Page 59 of Fortress of Snow

She closed her eyes, her face very close to his. He would only have to lean down a bit to press his lips to hers. But howcould he do that when he had not pledged himself to her yet? He had to be certain first. He had no wish to behave dishonorably with her.

Besides, even as he thought about kissing her, his mind went to Mazy. And it would be dishonorable indeed to kiss one woman while thinking of another.

“Good night.” He quickly kissed her hand and backed away. “Sleep well.” He turned and went to his own room before he changed his mind.

Mazy sat with Ro’s father while Ro tended the last of the alehouse customers for the night. He lay so motionless on his bed, Mazy leaned down beside him to watch his chest. There, it moved. He was still breathing.

He had become ill so suddenly, only two days before. It was frightening to see the illness progress so quickly.

“How is he doing?” Ro whispered, hurrying into the room.

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” Ro’s father’s voice was slurred as he opened his eyes and looked around. “Why do you make such a fuss? I’m just tired.”

With great difficulty, he managed to roll over on his side. A coughing fit seized him, then gradually ceased.

“You can go now.” Ro took Mazy’s hand and squeezed it.

“Are you sure you don’t need me?”

“You girls are like a couple of hens clucking and fussing... I’m well enough. Go on, Mazy.”

Ro walked out with Mazy, then whispered, “I think his heart is paining him. At least he’s trying to rest this time.”

They’d been so worried when he’d had a similar bout earlier that year. He recovered, but he’d seemed a bit weakened afterward.

“I’ll pray for him.” Mazy patted Ro’s shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.”

Later that night Mazy awoke to someone beating on her door. She hurried to throw on a cloak before hearing, “Mazy, it’s Ro! Please—” Her voice choked off, as if she was crying.

Mazy yanked open the door. “What is it? What happened?”

“It’s Father. I think he’s... Will you come down and see if you can wake him?” Ro sobbed into her hands.

Mazy ran down the stairs ahead of her. She entered their rooms and went to Ro’s father’s bedside.

He was still, his mouth open, his eyes closed. Mazy knelt beside him. “It’s Mazy. Can you hear me?” But she suspected he could not, and never would again. She leaned over him, pulled her hair back, and placed her cheek against his mouth and nose. After a few moments she still felt nothing, no breath.

“I woke up and went to check on him, and I found him like this.” Ro recommenced her sobbing.

“I’m so sorry, Ro.”

“The worst part is that he died alone. I wasn’t there to hear his last words, if he had any.”

Mazy put her arms around her friend and let her cry on her shoulder.

Her own heart felt as if a boulder had settled on it. She knewthe pain of losing a father, and she could easily imagine and empathize with what Ro was feeling. Besides that, she’d been quite fond of Ro’s father, even though he was gruff and sometimes rude. At least he was a man of character who never harmed or cheated anyone and always was there to help. But what would she and Ro do without a man about the alehouse?

Perhaps it was selfish and unfeeling to think of that now, but they would need to think about it, and soon. They’d have to find someone to help them or they’d have to sell the place.

The next day they hung a sign on the door that the Swan was closed while they arranged for Ro’s father’s funeral and burial. They kept it closed for two days while Ro cried and talked about her father enjoying heaven and flitting around like an angel, and then a few moments later Ro would dissolve in tears again.

Mazy went up to her bed every night feeling more exhausted than she had when she worked all day at the market. And every night she wondered,Is Sir Berenger married? Does he even think of me? Is he marrying someone worthy of him?She didn’t know. She only knew that she loved him and wanted the best for him.

Eighteen

Berenger and Lady Bristow rode the perimeter of the land that had been handed down to her first husband, the Earl of Bristow, by his father. Everything was covered with a dusting of snow as they surveyed all the farmland and pastures and meadows. The best part, however, was the seashore.