Page 76 of Fortress of Snow

The plight of women was so often ignored by those who should rescue and support them. Berenger would always consider it his privilege and duty to rescue any woman who needed his help. But in this case it was Juliana who needed his help.

The servants had brought out the last course of food and Lady Bristow had eaten very little.

“Are you well?” he asked.

Lady Bristow rubbed her temple. “I have a headache. I think I will go to bed early tonight.” She rose from the table. “Will you walk with me to my room?”

He didn’t want to, but he also couldn’t deny her request, in case she was truly ill.

She clung to his arm all the way up the stairs.

“Should I send for a servant to take care of you? Do you need something—a glass of wine, perhaps—to help you sleep?”

“No, no, I will be well.”

He feared she would try to kiss him again, as she had the night before, but instead, she gave him a wan smile and went into her room, slowly closing the door behind her.

Berenger went into his own room to get his cloak. He wanted to speak to his men about being prepared to leave at a moment’s notice. While most of the guards were Lady Bristow’s, he had brought two of his own guards.

But as he glanced out the window toward the sea, he saw a ship on the water. It seemed to be heading straight toward the cove where he and Juliana had explored when they were searching for shells.

He strained his eyes to see what sort of flag the ship was flying, but there was none.

A soft knock sounded outside in the hallway, seemingly from Lady Bristow’s door.

He hurried to open his own door just a crack so he could listen.

He heard Lady Bristow harshly whisper, “Do you not think I saw it? Go away.”

The door shut with a softclick.

Berenger stuck his head out and saw a male servant hurrying away from her door.

He ducked back inside his room. The ship was getting closer and soon appeared to be anchored inside the cove.

He remembered how Juliana reacted when she realized they were in that very cove.

He put on his cloak and left his room as quietly as he could, then made his way outside. Thankfully it was a bit warmer tonight, and he set out toward the shore where the ship was anchored.

Behind him, he heard a noise. He stepped off the path and hid behind a tree, hoping whoever had made the noise had not seen him.

As he watched, a figure came down the secluded, dark path carrying a lantern. The figure looked to be the height of LadyBristow, but the person wore a hood over her head that concealed her face. Was it one of the servants?

The woman passed by his hiding place and continued down the path. Berenger waited a few moments, then, carefully picking his way to avoid making noise, he followed.

The moon was pale and not very high in the sky, so he could clearly see the light from the lantern, except when a bend in the path caused trees to block his view. He stayed what he hoped was a safe distance behind.

On the sandy shore he continued in the dark behind the figure. The wind lapping the waves against the shore masked any sound his footsteps might have made on the crunchy layer of snow.

The figure made its way to the cove where the ship was anchored. As the woman rounded the bend, he hurried to catch up so he could see what happened next.

He rounded the same bend just as the hood blew off and revealed Lady Bristow, her skirt blowing against her legs, striding toward a man dressed in the clothing of a sailor.

Berenger tried to stay in the shadows, but he drew nearer, hoping to hear their exchange. Thankfully the cove was partially sheltered from the noise of the wind.

“Milady,” the man said with a French accent, bowing. Then, speaking in French, he said something Berenger did not understand.

Berenger could see Lady Bristow’s smirk in the lantern light. The man was leaning close to her now, his face less than the span of his hand from hers.