Page 24 of Dark Tides
His hurt showed on his face. “I don’t know what to want,” he admitted. “I should want her to come to me and bring her child with her.”
She could not conceal her avid curiosity. “But why do you say this? The boy is Alys’s son! You cannot want Alys? She is so cross with everyone!”
He withdrew from her eagerness. “It’s not for me to say.”
She paused in their walk and turned to him. “I am one of the family, their secrets are my secrets.”
He bowed his head. “But they are not my secrets to tell,” he said carefully. “Did Rob tell you nothing about them?”
She made a little pout. “He misled me. I thought it was a greater house and a noble family. He did not tell me that it was a little warehouse and two poor women scratching for a living and two children sent out to work.”
“One child is mine, I am sure of it,” he was driven to say.
She stopped in her path, grasped both his hands, and looked into his face, her dark eyes intent through her black lacy veil. “But you were not dishonorable, Milord. I am sure you would not be dishonorable.”
“No,” he said quickly. “No, I was not. I was young, and foolish, and mistaken. I was very mistaken. Sinfully wrong. But now I want to put things right.”
“You made a baby with Alys?” she whispered. “You made a child on her?”
The shake of his head in denial was enough for her quick wits.
“Dio!With Mamma Reekie?”
His silence was as good as a confession. She recovered at once. “I shall help you,” she assured him. “And you shall help me.”
He took a breath. “It is not my secret to tell.”
“I shall help you,” she repeated. “And then you will help me.”
He was about to say that he had no help to offer her when she turned and pointed to the bridge. “Ah! That is a fine sight! Even bigger than the Rialto in Venice but just as busy.”
The huge bridge, heavy with buildings and shops, crowded with people crossing even now, cast a deep shadow along the quayside.
“It can take hours to get across,” he said. “It is the only bridge, the only crossing. Really, another should be built but the watermen won’t allow it…”
“So many shops,” she said longingly. “And is that a church right in the middle?”
“The chapel of Saint Thomas á Becket. People used to say that you should go in and give thanks to God just for getting to the middle of the bridge because it takes so long to get through the crowds. But it is closed now.”
“And is your house on the other side?”
“Oh no! Those are all merchants’ houses and tradesmen. My house is farther west.”
“Why, how far is it? Can we walk to it?”
“It’s a good hour’s walk,” he said dampeningly. “And, no lady would cross the bridge on foot. You should take a wherry.”
Prompted by the hundreds of bells chiming the three-quarter hour she turned their walk. “I wanted to see the City. We will go farther another day.”
“The quays are not suitable for a lady,” he said. “Not unaccompanied. And not during working hours.”
“But how am I to get anywhere?” Impatiently she gestured to the looming bridge. “How am I to get to London if that is the only way to the City?”
In silence, they went quickly back along the quay, the way they had come.
“It is not what I hoped for at all,” Livia told him, as they walked past the row of poor warehouses. Ahead was a young man and woman walking arm in arm.
Livia hurried forwards, all smiles. “Now, you must be Johnnie and Sarah!” she exclaimed, putting back her veil and stretching her hands to the young woman. “I am so glad! And how lucky that we should meet here! I am your aunt! Is it not ridiculous? That you should have an aunt such as I? But, indeed, I am the widow of my dear Roberto,and he is your uncle, so I must be your aunt, come to England to live with your mother and grandmother.”
