“Tush!” She reached for the gun. “You’re too ill to pun with me. Save your breath for climbing.”
She made him walk behind her, indicating how to avoid creaking treads on the stairs. Her heart pounded as they made their way along the corridor—despite them both being armed, she had no wish to confront anyone with a weapon, especially not her cousin. Could she really bear to threaten someone’s life, even take it?
As soon as she reached her chamber, a tide of relief flooded over her. She locked the door while Kit eased himself onto her bed, massaging his ankles and raw wrists.
Necessity banished her doubts. “I’ll do that for you.” She propped the arquebus behind the door and secreted the large pistol, the dag, beneath her bed. “But in a moment. For now, I think your wound needs greater attention.”
There was no point having rescued him if she were to let his wound fester. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her stomach to the task and reached for her ewer of water.
Chapter Thirty-Two
As Kit lay back with a sigh upon the lavender-scented sheets, he wondered if Alys was being brave, or merely very foolish. No, not foolish. He was coming to know the real Alys, and she was virtually perfect. Too precious to lose. “I have said before, I don’t deserve that you should put yourself in such danger.”
“Believe, if you will, that I act out of loyalty to my sovereign. You need not flatter yourself that it’s all for your sake.”
“Ah, now you are being cruel.” His voice was muffled by Alys drawing his bloodied shirt up over his head—thankfully, she’d been sensible enough to soak the sleeve first. Thin-lipped, she prodded gently at the ruined flesh, but he saw no weakness in her expression.
Instead, there was anger. He hoped it was on his behalf.
They both stared at the wound. The cut was neat, having been made by a blade. He should recover well.
“How came you to be taken?”
He’d been dreading that question. His pride had been injured almost as severely as his arm. “I underestimated my enemy. Avery sought me out, suspecting me as I was the newest member of the household. He gave me no chance to deny it or defend myself. To him, everyone is expendable, be they guilty or innocent. He’s dangerous, Alys, and desperate enough to strike first and ask questions later.” He gazed down at his bloody injury. “He will pay for doing this to me. Next time, I’ll be armed and ready.”
As soon as Alys had bathed his wound and bound it tightly, he bade her spread out a fresh cloth and pour the damp black powder upon it.
“Don’t put it close to the fire—we desire only to dry it, not ignite it.”
Once satisfied he’d done all he could, Kit sank back and closed his eyes.
He felt the mattress dip beside him. “What do you think they planned to do with you?”
“I suspect they’ve sent for someone trained in the art of interrogation. An inquisitor if you like. Once they milked me for information, I could be slain, and they could depart for Spain or France, taking with them as much of their arsenal as they could. All traces of conspiracy would be removed, letters burned, underlings who knew too much would be disposed of—these people are utterly ruthless. Cowardly poltroons! They’d have learned nothing from me—I’d rather suffer and die than give in to their evil machinations.”
He felt Alys shudder. “Your loyalty to your masters, and the queen, is laudable. I know hatred of Catholics runs deep after the rule of Bloody Mary, but that was before my time. Try as I might, I can’t hate a person because of their religion. But we should all be judged by our actions, not our beliefs. I wonder how Kate came to be part of this conspiracy.”
“When she is imprisoned, you can go and ask her. But I won’t let you be alone with her before then.” When Kate found out Alys had helped him, her wrath would be deadly.
“When will you deem it safe to leave here?”
“Soon. Sooner yet if you give me a draught of that aqua vitae. My arm is as sound as you can make it, so I suggest we go as soon as the powder is dry.”
She shifted away from him. “Oh, but you must be hungry and thirsty. How long did they hold you for? Here, take my manchet.”
He opened his eyes and eased himself up on the bed. Bread first, then the alcohol, to give him courage. He stared at Alys while he chewed, feasting his eyes as well.
“You had better get dressed,” he said. Reluctantly.
“Why?”
“To come away, of course.”
“I’m not coming away.”
Fear sliced into him. “Why ever not? That was the original plan—you were going to meet me in that field. Good God, woman—it’s now more imperative than ever that you should come. They are sure to find out who aided me.”
“How so?”
He spluttered into his bottle. To think he’d decided she was no fool! Wiping the errant drops from his mouth, he said, “Well, for a start, they’ll be able to see that my bonds have been cut.”
“Not if they can’t see the bonds.” She grinned and held up the frayed ropes, then cast them into the fire. “I left no clues behind.”
His gaze snagged on her triumphant smile. The urge to explore it with his lips was powerful but now was not the time. He took a rapid swig from the bottle and thought again. “They will know someone drugged the guard.”
“How will they know, when I have the costrel here? They will assume he got at the ale somehow and drank himself stupid. Who knows, he may even make up his own story about your incredible escape in order to save face. He will say you broke your bonds, came at him with the
