Page 57 of To Love

According to Evelina, the priest had revealed nothing. Had not appeared suspicious, even. Neither had the maid done anything these past days that was out of the ordinary. They were at a stalemate, and now the discussion had centered around whether they should send the men at all. It was the current topic of debate among them now.

Alden could not bear it any longer.

The men slept around him, and though Alden knew it was risky, he got out of bed anyway.

There are none in the corridors at this time. If you are spotted, suspicions will be raised.

He paused while putting on his second boot. The traitor, the mission, the cause . . . they were all more important than him being with Elara. But the thought that she lay in this very castle, and he’d not been able to touch her in days? He put on his boot and stood.

All were asleep.

Alden considered waking Darien to tell him where he headed, but decided against it. He would risk waking the others as well. He moved quickly and silently. As Alden suspected, none stirred. Wall sconces were still lit, but dimming. The castle had an eerie glow because of it. Likely because of the increased risk of being caught, Alden thought he saw a person’s shadow as he turned the final corner before disappearing into the alcove, but likely had imagined it.

As he made his way up the narrow, winding staircase, he wondered if she kept the door between her two chambers closed. If so, and assuming she was sleeping, he realized she might not hear him.

When he reached the top, Alden knocked. And waited.

He knocked again.

Nothing.

Excitement at seeing her gave way to the kind of despair Alden had felt as a boy, knowing he could never become anything other than a blacksmith. That he had no control over his destiny, no control over . . . whatever this was with Elara, grated on him. He’d come to Castle Blackwood with dreams of breaking free, and instead he stood in a dark stairwell like a beggar, hoping for even a few moments with a woman that could never be his.

Alden began to descend the stairs. With each one, his footsteps grew heavier. His thoughts, darker. What had he been thinking?

He was nearly back at his own chambers when Alden saw it again. The same shadow in the same spot as before. This time, he was certain it was a person. Who was awake at this time of the night?

Knowing he should not find out, Alden moved toward the shadow, which disappeared the moment he walked toward the turn. Moving more quickly, he rounded the corner but . . . nothing. Trying to decide whether he should go back, Alden decided to pursue the figure instead. He had a choice at the end of the corridor. Left? Or right?

The left turn headed toward the servants’ quarters, the right, toward the great hall. Thinking of Lila, he turned left and spied the corner of a light blue gown. It was a woman. But by the time he caught up with her, the corridor was empty. He could not burst into the servants’ quarters and had no choice but to return to his own. When he did, Darien was waiting up for him. Nodding to the door, Alden stepped back outside with his unhappy friend.

“I do not enjoy spending the time I should be sleeping waiting for you to return,” he whispered the moment they stepped out into the corridor.

“I did not ask for you to do so.” Alden leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

“You went to her.”

He did not wish to discuss it, but Alden knew one thing above all about Darien. He would never let something go once in his mind.

“With our meetings each night . . .” He frowned. What could he say? That he missed their time together? He would sound like a lovesick lad.

“Our station matters less than the strength of our character and the depth of our feelings. Elara is no ordinary lady, and you, my friend, are no ordinary blacksmith’s son. In the Isle of Ely, we’ve always stayed clear of court politics, preferring to forge our own paths. If your heart truly belongs to Lady Elara, do not let the bounds of society hold you back. Prove your worth through deeds, not titles. She sees in you what we all do—a man of honor and courage. Take that step forward. You might find she’s been waiting for you to make it.”

Alden had not been expecting such a speech from a man who was more mysterious than anything. He spoke very little of his home, and when they asked him about it, Darien usually changed the topic of discussion. Evoking the Isle of Ely now told Alden his words were not meant in jest but as sincere advice.

“We’ve discussed the matter,” he said. “She agreed readily that it was not possible for us to be together. Except,” he added, “in the way we have been.”

“Secretly. Holed up in her chamber.” Darien shook his head. “That is no way to conduct a courtship, Alden, and you know it well.”

He knew it better than anyone.

“And if Amalia thought as you did?”

“She and Roland would not be married,” Alden admitted. “But they are different. Not only is she titled, but Elara holds her position here at Blackwood in high esteem. There is no scenario that would allow her to be with a pupil and retain such a position. If she were to lose it, Elara could put her father’s life in danger. And where would we go? Back to my village so she can be the wife of a blacksmith’s son? Elara cannot go back to court. They believe she married a Scotsman, and none but her father know of her presence here.”

“Eamon and Stirling and the other nobles know,” Darien reminded him.

“Aye, men who would not betray her because their beliefs align with her own. Except, there is a traitor among us, threatening exposure, which puts Elara and her father at risk. She does not need further complications.” His shoulders sagged. “She does not need me.”