Chasing Shadows (8 page)

He placed a hand to her elbow before she could respond and guided her along the powder-white earth. Sarah thought she heard the faint sound of rushing water but couldn’t remember ever seeing a lake or stream during her adventures in the forest.

The temperature dropped the further they walked into the thicket, and she couldn’t contain her shivering any longer. Will must have noticed her shaking and assured her that they were close. The sound of flowing water was perfectly clear now, and after a few more moments, he guided Sarah to the edge of a small brook that cut a line between the trees.

Sarah caught her breath at the beautiful sight. The brook had frozen thinly in places, and the rushing water beneath the ice bubbled over the broken patches. Water flowed gracefully over the icy rocks, creating small, cascading waterfalls in its attempt to escape downhill. The clearing allowed moonlight to spill in between the trees on either side, causing the surface of the frozen brook to shine like glass. The light reflected in the narrow clearing, not more than thirty feet wide, and illuminated its surroundings. It was absolutely breathtaking.      

Will stepped away from her, and she shivered in his absence. Her eyes followed his movements and she recognized the dark outline of his horse as he guided it toward her, stopping a few feet away to allow the animal to nibble at the small tuffs of grass poking out from beneath the snow. Will removed two bundles from the stallion’s back, and then his long strides made quick work of the distance between them. He came up behind her and draped a heavy wool cloak about her shoulders.

Surprised speechless at the thoughtful gesture, she could only grab the collar and hold it tight under her chin. The warm cloak immediately staved off the chill coming from the brook, and her shivering lessened.

She watched in silence as Will laid a thick blanket down on one of the driest patches of earth at the base of a large willow tree. Obviously, he had thoroughly planned this out.

He motioned for her to sit and, ever the gentleman, waited until she took her spot before sitting down beside her. Sarah leaned against the thick trunk, smiling softly at his praise of her a moment ago. Even after all this time of her opening her big mouth, he still appreciated her spirit and audacity. Sure, he hadn’t said he loved that about her, but she knew that having his admiration was not something to be taken lightly.

Gaze wandering the horizon, she asked curiously, “What’s over there?” Will followed her finger to the sloping hill in the distance.

“Technically, the other side of that hill is Glendale Forest. My house is just over that rise.”

They were silent for a long time, both content to listen to the owls and crickets call out night’s symphony. Sarah fiddle idly with the white sash tied around the waist of her black servant’s dress, which Edith had provided earlier, explaining that the kitchen staff wore gray, while castle maids and female servants wore variations of Sarah’s uniform. It felt strange to disturb the calm silence by voicing her thoughts aloud, but there was so much she wanted to say and so many questions she had to ask. Sarah wasn’t sure if she would get another opportunity like this again, even if it did mean shattering this perfect moment of contentment in his presence.  

“You know,” she began softly without looking at him, “I never did get a chance to thank you for saving Karen. I still can’t believe you did that.”

“I promised I would,” he replied. She could feel his gaze resting on her and turned her head. The moon was behind him, and she could only make out his profile in the pale light coming through the trees.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving the last time we spoke?” he surprised her by asking.

Though she had been expecting it, his innocent question still caught her off guard. Her shoulders sagged, and she stared at her hands clasped in her lap. The scar on her hand, courtesy of Allan’s knife, appeared translucent in the silvery light. “I didn’t know I was leaving until after you brought me back that day.”

“Did you really leave so suddenly?”

Sarah knew what he was asking and closed her eyes. “It
was
sudden, but there was enough time to tell you I was going.” Angling her head, she looked up at him and admitted softly, “I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t say goodbye to you because it seemed too final. It was selfish of me, I know, and I’m sorry.”

She turned her gaze ahead and hoped he wouldn’t see the tears of guilt pooling in her eyes. She hated it when she cried, so she tried to quickly blink the tears away, but her vision still blurred. She rubbed the corner of her eye as subtly as possible.

“You know,” Will began thoughtfully. She didn’t turn to look at him but kept her eyes focused on some water trickling over an especially fascinating rock. “At first I thought something had happened when I didn’t see you for days. Then Karen came by the shop and told me that you had left for home and wasn’t sure if you would return.” He paused, and Sarah clenched her hands so fiercely that her nails almost drew blood. She ducked her head and allowed her hair to fall in front of her face to hide her shame.

“I chose not to believe that it was true, that you left without telling me,” Will went on, his voice tight. Sarah didn’t dare look up at his face for fear of what she might find there.

He cleared his throat before he spoke again, his tone softer than before. “I was so sure you would be coming back someday, so I waited patiently for your return. The first month passed, and then another. I admit that I was hurt and angry at first, but then I simply felt . . . I’m not quite sure. Resigned or empty, I suppose. You had begun to break down my armor, and that left me feeling exposed and vulnerable when you left. I had put up these walls and kept others out for so long that when I finally let you in and you departed . . . I felt that I had to be more vigilant about who I allowed to see inside of me. That was why I was so reticent when you returned; I did not want to open myself up to more hurt.”

She couldn’t recall him every speaking so much at once, and never with as much feeling expressed in his words, even if it did sound like they were difficult to say. Will used his index finger to turn her head around and lifted her chin. He waited until she looked up at him, and when she did, she couldn’t turn away.

“But, Sarah, I was wrong for trying to keep you out like that.
I was wrong
,” he said, and she knew the words must have cost him. “I realize that now. I think I knew it as soon as I saw you standing inside the castle, shaking from head to foot, yet still determined to do what you knew was right. In that moment, I knew that I did not want to push you away and lose you forever. I could tell it hurt you when I held you at arm’s length all those times, and I am sorry for being too stubborn to relent sooner.”

Sarah stared up at him silently, completely taken aback by his apology. She hadn’t thought that she’d ever begrudged the fact that he kept his distance emotionally from her at times. But now she realized that she had unwittingly held onto the offense she had felt each time he held back from her.

“I really shouldn’t have taken it so personally,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “I knew it was just your defense mechanism. But if you need my forgiveness, you have it.”

His body seemed to relax. “Thank you,” he breathed.

Sarah turned her eyes away for a moment to formulate her thoughts, though his finger still held her chin. “Can I ask you a question, Will?”

He nodded his head. “Of course.”

She hesitated for a brief second before diving ahead. “Whatever happened to the Shadow?”       

~Chapter 9~

Will let his hand fall from her face, unconsciously withdrawing from her. “I already told you what happened.”

She shook her head slightly, causing soft auburn waves to bounce around her face. “I know. You said that you weren’t needed anymore. But obviously that isn’t true, since the whole reason I’m here is because Cadius might be bent on killing someone else.” 

Will raked a hand back through his hair and sucked in a breath, holding it for a long moment, striving for calm. He should have known that she would want more of an explanation than he had already given to her; she was too smart to be so easily distracted. He felt a reluctant smile tug at the corner of his lips as he realized that he would have been disappointed if she had been so easily mollified by his vague response.

He allowed himself a moment to study her face, grateful for the darkness that prevented her from seeing his close observation of her features. The sprinkle of freckles across her upturned nose made her tanned, heart-shaped face young and girlish and terribly endearing. In the cover of darkness, he found himself lost in the depth of her clear blue eyes. The first thing he had noticed about her in the forest that day several months past was her piercing gaze; her eyes were like a window into her soul that conveyed every emotion she was feeling and each thought that flitted across her mind. He had always had a difficult time looking away from them and was glad he needn’t do so now.

“You can’t seriously believe that you aren’t needed.” The sound of her voice shattered the quiet that had settled over them, effectively putting an end to the haze that was clouding his mind. Her wounded tone and the pained look in her eyes pierced his heart.

He let out his breath slowly. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I did not mean to—” He stopped mid-sentence. What had he meant to do, exactly? When he first realized that she had left without bothering to tell him of her departure, he once again withdrew into the protective armor that had guarded his heart before she had entered his life.

During that time, he had hardly spoken to anyone, and the townsfolk and his costumers had eventually stopped trying to engage him in polite conversation, simply coming to do business in uncomfortable silence and then leaving as soon as they were able. Will’s uncle had even come to make sure that he was all right after he hadn’t seen or heard from him in nearly a month. Will had said he was fine, and though it was obvious that his uncle didn’t believe his curt response in the least, the man was wise enough to leave it alone.

Will had spent his days filling the orders that were placed during the busy autumn months. Over time, his anger and sullen attitude over her abrupt departure had begun to ebb away and then disappeared altogether. But the questions and pain remained. He gazed into her sad, beseeching eyes and felt regret over the careless way he had abandoned the responsibilities he had taken on as the Shadow. Had he not sworn to avenge his parents and protect those who couldn’t do so for themselves?

“Sarah,” he began, heaving a heavy sigh. He could see he had her full attention and decided to just come out with it. “Do you remember when you pointed out that I had created my alter-ego because I simply sought revenge for my parents’ deaths?”

Her eyes widened in alarm and her face paled slightly. “Oh, no, Will! I said that in anger, but I never meant for you to abandon your quest to help people.”

Will held up a hand to silence her before she placed the blame for his actions upon herself. “It is not your fault. I simply got to thinking about what you said, and I realized that you were right. Part of the reason why I went around helping people was because I thought it might send a message to those I sought to defeat—that there was at least one man willing to fight against them for what is right.”

Sarah shifted and leaned her side against the tree so her body faced him. “But I never should have discouraged you from helping people. It was wrong of me to say that.”

He shrugged. It was no longer important to him—he realized that now. “Don’t apologize. Besides, it was not the only reason that I no longer masquerade as the Shadow.”

“Well, then, what is it?”

Will glanced away and stared off into the trees. “I am ashamed to admit that I simply ceased caring. I hardened myself against what was happening around me and managed to convince myself that it no longer mattered.” He looked back at her and was sure the shame he felt was written all over his face. “Things are worse than ever, and I chose to ignore that fact.”

Sarah’s eyes softened, and he could see the compassion in her gaze as she reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm.  “I’m sorry that you felt that way, but do you care now?”

“Of course,” he replied earnestly.

She nodded her head once and added, “Then it’s never too late.”

The thin, silvery line on the back of her hand shifted as she gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, reminding him of how he had almost lost her to Allan’s scheme. Now that he had her back, he had no intention of squandering this opportunity.

Will smiled down at her, filled with emotions he was sure he could no longer hide, that he
chose
not to keep secret. “I suppose not.”

—

Soon after they tied up the loose ends in their friendship, Will took her back to her room and waited outside the door like a gentleman. Then again, he
had
broken into her room in the first place, Sarah thought wryly.

She turned around to face him. His large frame fairly towered over her, though his height and breadth didn’t intimidate her as it once had. Underneath that hardened façade she had encountered when they first met, there was a man with an incredibly warm and tender heart. She suddenly recalled the way he had the cloak and blanket waiting for her and couldn’t help but grin.

“You know,” she whispered so as to not wake the other servants, “you must have been pretty confident in your skills of persuasion to have all that stuff ready for us out there. You were that sure you could get me to come?”

Will smiled down at her, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle in a way that Sarah found terribly charming. “I’d hoped I might convince you.”

Sarah swallowed over the emotions he stirred in her with the tender note of his voice. Remembering that she was still wearing his cloak, she began to shrug off its bulk, but Will put a strong hand on her shoulder to stop her movement. She looked up at him.

“Keep it,” he said. “It becomes rather drafty in these old rooms.”

Sarah thanked him, feeling overwhelmed. One minute they were at each other’s throats, and the next they were sharing a conversation in the most enchanting setting imaginable, and now he was offering her his cloak. Sarah knew he was probably just being considerate, but she couldn’t help but feel the gesture was very intimate.

They said their goodnights, and Sarah crawled into bed gratefully. She hugged the collar of Will’s cloak close to her face, breathing deeply the comforting scents of the wool. The smell of pine and the sweet aroma of rich earth mingled with Will’s own musky scent. These fragrances lulled her into a blissful sleep that she wished would never end.

But her sweet slumber was interrupted when Edith woke her only a few short hours later so they could get a start on their morning chores. It was in the morning when Sarah awoke that the memory of last night felt like no more than a dream. A perfect, wonderful dream. But in her experience, dreams were a wonderful fantasy during sleep that very seldom came true. She hoped this time it would be different.

Now Sarah followed Edith around like a loyal dog, taking directions and trying to act like she wasn’t ready to fall asleep on her feet, though she didn’t regret last night in the least.

“I must run and check on preparations for the midday feast,” Edith was saying. Sarah tried not to groan; it wasn’t even noon yet and already she wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep for days.

It seemed they had spent hours in one of the formal sitting rooms on the second floor polishing the silver tea set and candlesticks that were permanent fixtures in the room. How were the servants able to endure this
every
day? She had gotten to know Edith a little in the past twenty-four hours, discovering that she had a son named Rennault. How did the woman manage to be a wife and mother
and
work this hard all the time?

“Do you think you can manage while I see to the kitchen staff?” Edith asked. Sarah nodded, straightening her back to cover her exhaustion. Her mentor gave a quick nod before exiting the room through the large open doorway that led to the hall.

Sarah watched her go, waiting until the sound of her hurried footsteps could no longer be heard echoing down the hall before allowing her limp body to sag down onto the soft fur before the fireplace. She wasn’t sure she could keep this up for much longer, but she might have to if she couldn’t find any incriminating evidence against Cadius soon.

And how was she supposed to do that, anyway? The one meal she’d had with the kitchen staff, they’d all seemed so reserved that Sarah knew they weren’t going to come right out and offer to help her take down Cadius, and she’d hardly had any contact with the other servants or nobles staying at the castle to learn anything new. She was getting nowhere. Slowly.

Sarah took her vexation out on the short teapot in her hand, rubbing the surface vigorously with the cloth, but the blasted thing refused to shine. Tears of frustration brought on by sheer exhaustion pooled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks unhindered. She felt like she couldn’t do anything right: The king’s murderer was running free, though she was unable to prove that. The prince was safe for now, but his potential killer was on the loose, something else that she couldn’t be certain of because of Problem #1. So far, she had nothing but a few crazy hunches and her intuition to go on, and it didn’t seem to be getting her anywhere.  

“God,” she murmured, staring at the fur beneath her. “I could sure use your help right now. Give me some kind of sign if I’m supposed to give up or go on.” She felt like her efforts here were wasted as she spent her time cleaning and doing nothing that she thought to be productive. Was she just wasting her time here?

Sarah heard the sound of low male voices coming from the other room, sending her nervous heart into overdrive. She lurched to her aching feet and began dusting the top of the mantle to look busy; if they came in, she didn’t want them to think she had been shirking her duties. But the voices and their owners remained in the adjoining room.

In her curiosity, Sarah moved a little closer to the doorway leading from the large sitting area to the smaller adjoining room, absentmindedly dusting a small round table as she listened. Judging by their strained, hushed tones, the two men were having some kind of disagreement. She felt a flutter of excitement at the idea that this might be her first opportunity to do some real snooping.

Casting a furtive glance over her shoulder to make sure that Edith hadn’t returned, Sarah abandoned any pretense that she was working and dropped the rag on a table nearby. Stealthily, she crept over to the doorway leading to the more intimate sitting room situated in the east corner of the upper floor. The door was cracked open an inch, and she leaned forward to peer through the opening, straining to hear.

“What do you mean I’m being dismissed?” hissed one of the men lowly. Sarah couldn’t see his face because it was hidden behind the door, though his raspy voice sounded vaguely familiar to her ears, grating on an old nerve she couldn’t place.

“Just that:
He is
dismissing you
.” The other man’s voice was calm and smooth and diplomatic as he enunciated each word. He sounded younger than his companion, and Sarah adjusted her position to better see him through the narrow slit in the door.

From her small vantage point of his profile, Sarah could see that the man was lean and tall, and his skin was naturally olive-toned. The pale coloring of everyone else inside the castle walls, and outside as well, caused her to wonder if he was as foreign as she. Well, maybe not
as
foreign, but she thought she detected an accent.  

“It would seem that he is going in a different direction,” the polished man informed calmly, giving a faintly sympathetic look to the other occupant of the room. “He appreciates the insight you have offered into the matter, but your services are no longer be necessary.”

The unseen man sputtered before managing to get out, “But I have served him faithfully.” His voice lowered to a furious whisper. “I have
killed
for him, and now I am to be cast aside?”

Sarah’s heart picked up a beat, drowning out the man’s patient response. Who were they talking about? Cadius? She pressed in a little closer to the door and strained to hear.

“You have served your purpose and your contract has been terminated,” the cultured man went on, voice lacking inflection; he appeared entirely bored with the discussion, as though he fired people everyday. He raised a dark brow in challenge, almost appearing amused. “Are you questioning the master’s wisdom in letting you go? Cadius will not be pleased.”

Sarah’s breath quickened, and she hoped they couldn’t hear it in the lengthening silence. Clamping her hands over her mouth, she breathed quietly between her fingers and waited.