“As are we all.” I pushed open the gate only to be struck silent as Seton emerged from the shadows of the doorway.
“You.” I could say no more. I ran to him, flung the cape around his shoulders, and pressed my mouth to his.
His lips were cold. I felt my teeth nibble them, forcing hot blood to rise beneath the soft flesh. Our tongues met with contended sighs.
Sylvain came close and offered his hand in Seton’s general direction. “This is him?”
Seton and I parted but held onto one another.
“It is an honor to meet you, if only it were under more pleasurable circumstances.” Seton took Sylvain’s hand, and despite his wounds, shook it heartily.
“You are a brave man to love as you do. I am unsure if it is foolish or criminal, but I love my brother and I am accepting of his ability to love freely.” He moved past us, fumbled for his keys, opened the door, and entered the house. “We must go inside and make plans.”
The fire light from the kitchen came forth through the doorway and brought with it a certain security we all craved.
Seton gripped my shoulder and urged me inside. “The night is alive and filled with ears and eyes. Let us find comfort within.”
I followed Seton and was relieved when the door closed behind us. Immediately, Durant came out from under the table and set about growling at Seton’s boots as he passed. But Seton, unafraid of the small creature, offered his hand to the fox, who, to all our amazement, sniffed cautiously, and after only seconds, allowed Seton to pet and caress its ears.
“Not only are you a musician, but an animal tamer like Sylvain,” I joked, and was pleased to see Seton smile up at me.
“It is only because I am not afraid.” He sat back on his haunches.
He offered his hand to mine, which I took and helped haul him up, wincing as I felt the sores on his fingers and saw the pain cross his face.
“You’re wounded,” Sylvain observed. “I can smell the beginning of infection. What is it?”
“My hands are badly blistered and cut from Duir’s demented punishments,” Seton answered as he lowered himself onto the bench by the table.
“Punishment? For what?” Sylvain queried and went about gathering things from the cabinets where he’d stored herbal ointments and medicines.
I lit enough candles to give us light, but not enough to bring attention to the house.
“We were found out by one of Duir’s men.” Seton winced as I forced one of his hands open to fully observe the wounds.
“Cale came upon us in the palace and guessed our passions, though I thought he’d held his tongue after…” My voice drifted away, and under Seton’s gaze I felt the familiar shame of what happened threaten to return.
Sylvain came to the table and placed a jar of thick, viscous jelly by Seton, who eyed it suspiciously. “You must wash the wounds first,” Sylvain instructed.
Seton stood and allowed Sylvain to guide him over to the large washing basin.
“No one holds their tongues at court, Virago,” Sylvain scolded. He left Seton, returned to the table, and opened the jar. “You should have known this.”
“He saw nothing!” I exclaimed. “It was a guess, something he supposed and for this we have been tormented!”
“And now he has discovered the cloak lined in velvet, and he will claim assault by my hands,” Seton, affirmed.
“Cale need not have seen anything, he has proof not only with the cloak, but now both of you have threatened and attacked a member of the Privy Council, as have I.”
“You?” Seton asked, incredulous.
“Cale lies unconscious,” I answered for my brother.
Before I could explain further, Sylvain broke in. “It no longer matters. It is done and I need not tell either of you, Duir will never take any man’s word over Cale’s, a man he calls brother,” Sylvain remarked as he dipped a length of linen into the jar.
“Treason, violence and carnal depravity. I have certainly tarnished our parents’ names in this land. How I wish things were not as they are. I have done a disservice to our family, Sylvain.” I let my head drop, unsure I could look my brother in the face.
“Father would have wanted you to stand up for what made you most happy. It is enough to live. To walk away with our lives will mean we have overcome the laws of this time,” Sylvain commented.
I watched as he removed the linen and went over to where Seton stood.
“Virago, there is no going backwards, only forward.” His voice became a painful moan as Sylvain wrapped the bandages around his hands.
I could hear his sharp intake of breath and lifted my head to see him wincing. It was at that moment I realized there was something missing.
“Your lute!” I practically shouted as my eyes searched frantically for his beloved instrument. “Seton.” I was going to ask where it was, but I saw loss overtake his face and in the flickering candlelight, his sadness was clearly marked.
“Gone, Cale broke it. It is in pieces among those white pools where the moon reflects from the sky. If only I’d killed him, how my fingers would have savored the heat of his blood to atone for the broken pieces of the lute. I love the lute, but the music a blade makes is much more lasting.”
His words hung in the air and brought Cale closer than any of us wished.
“Damn him,” Sylvain cursed as he finished wrapping Seton’s hands. “He will know a painful death sooner than you think and Hell will yawn for him.”
Seton held his hands up to the light and smiled. “You have the healer’s touch, my
