Annabel let go of his arm and ran, shuddering again at what had just happened. It still didn’t seem real. Just a bad dream.
But no, the bailiff was dead, gone, and it was her fault. She didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t think it, or it would overwhelm her. Somehow she had to get to the manor house, to distance herself from the body.
“Annabel,” Stephen whispered with a new urgency in his voice. He stopped in the woods and they faced each other, but it was too dark to see his face. “Don’t tell anyone what just happened. No one. Give me your solemn oath. It’s for your protection as well as mine. We know nothing, and will act as we did before.”
Her lips felt numb. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. After swallowing past the dryness at the back of her throat, she uttered, “I promise.” She turned away from him and immediately stumbled over a root in the dark.
The owl hooted again. At least the bailiff was farther behind her now. Her stomach quivered. If they could only get out of this wretched forest.
“Who’s there?”
The voice made her jerk herself to a halt. It was Lord le Wyse.
Stephen stopped a few feet behind her.
“Who’s there, I say?” Lord le Wyse’s voice was a rough snarl. He stepped toward them and reached out a hand. Her throat swelled shut and she couldn’t even swallow.
“Annabel, is that you?” Lord le Wyse’s unmistakable broad frame loomed in front of her.
“Yes, my lord.”
He stepped closer. “I thought I heard someone near the privy. Are you well?”
Stephen pulled on her arm, jerking her away from Lord le Wyse.
“I am well, my lord. I must go.” Before she finished speaking, Stephen was all but dragging her through the forest. He moved so quickly she had to battle to find her footing. She looked over her shoulder but couldn’t see Lord le Wyse through the darkness and trees.
They rushed through the woods, branches and bushes tearing at her clothes as she stumbled at a pace that must have been as fast as Stephen could go and was much faster than she had ever seen him walk before. Would Lord le Wyse follow them? Or would he go farther and find the body of the dead bailiff?
Perhaps Tom wasn’t actually dead. Perhaps his breathing was shallow and Stephen was simply unable to detect it. She had heard of that happening before. After all, how many people had Stephen proclaimed dead? Probably none.
But the sinking feeling inside her that hollowed her out and made her knees weak told her he was dead. Dead.
They were taking a roundabout way back to the manor house. She wondered if anyone was following her, but all she could hear was the crunch of dry leaves under their feet and branches that brushed by her ears. She stumbled over a fallen tree branch lying in her path, then her toe hit a root and she fell. She registered skinned knees without feeling any pain as Stephen grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet again.
“Hold on to me,” he said.
Without taking time to brush herself off, she hurried on.
She imagined Lord le Wyse finding the bailiff’s body. What would he think? She swallowed the nastiness that rose into her throat. Vomiting would only slow them down.
Would Lord le Wyse think she had killed him? Perhaps he would think it was an accident, that the bailiff fell and hit his head.
Annabel and Stephen came to the edge of the forest at the clearing around the manor house. She searched but didn’t see anyone as she tried to catch her breath. A few men could be heard laughing in the vicinity of the wooden building that now served as their sleeping quarters.
Stephen hung back in the shadows of the trees. He whispered, “I beg you, Annabel, don’t tell anyone I was out here tonight.”
She felt sick at the desperation in his voice. Their eyes met. Oh, Stephen.
He turned and hurried toward the road to the village, skirting the edge of the greenway to avoid being seen.
Another loud hoo-hoo rang out from the forest behind her. She shivered and ran toward the undercroft. Just as her hand reached out for the door, a voice split the air behind her.
“Annabel. Halt.”
She jerked her hand back. Her heart stopped beating then raced so fast it stole her breath.
Lord le Wyse emerged from the trees and strode toward her. She pressed her back against the undercroft door, wishing she could hide. But he had seen her already, his eye focused intently on her face.
He stood two feet from her. “Come with me, quickly.”