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  “Nothing that made sense,” she reassured him. “Sir William sent for me after midnight. He told me nothing. You were lying on a rug before the fire. He said only that you had fainted. When I got here, you were dazed with fever.”

  He nodded. “I can remember nothing.”

  She thought that he must spend his life forgetting half of it, and speaking of less, and now oblivion had come to him, like a curse in answer to a wish.

  “His lordship sent for me and asked me to come up here with you to make sure that it was not the plague.”

  “You came to me . . . although you said . . .”

  “Yes,” she said steadily. “The lord of the manor sent for me. I had to.”

  “But you agreed to nurse me.”

  “His lordship asked me. I had to.”

  “You came to me,” he insisted. “You chose to come.”

  She showed him the sweetest, most generous smile. “I came to you,” she confirmed.

  “And undressed me.”

  “I had to see if you had the marks of the pox or the plague.”

  “And stayed with me all night.”

  “To watch over your fever.”

  “You held me in your arms.”

  “It was the only way you would lie still, and not toss and turn and throw off the covers.”

  “I was naked in your arms.”

  She pursed her lips. “For your own good.”

  He was silent for a moment. “My God, I wish I could be naked in your arms again.”

  “Hush,” she said, wondering how much they could hear in the stable below. “Hush.”

  “I will not hush,” he whispered. “I have to speak. Alinor, I thought I would go away without seeing you again, I thought we would never meet. I have lost my faith—my God—I am forsworn so many ways. I have lost my king and my God and myself. But I thought there would be some meaning to my life if only I could see you again—and now you are here.”

  “I am not faith, nor God, nor king,” she told him solemnly. “I am not even a woman of good repute. I know you met Zachary at Newport. He will have told you—unless the fever has made you forget—he must have told you that I’m a bad woman: neither widow nor wife.”

  “He swore to all sorts of terrors. I don’t regard them,” he promised. “I didn’t listen to him, and I didn’t believe him. I can’t remember anything he said.” He did not even know that he was lying to her. “I thought I would never see you again—I am ordered to leave you, and leave Foulmire—and now here we are, locked up together, almost as if it is God’s will that we should never part. I swear in His name that I don’t want to be anywhere else. I’ve lost everything but you. I thought I was dying, and when I was at the very darkest moment, the only thing I wanted was you. I could not speak, I could not think, I could not pray: all I wanted was you. I thought I was dreaming that you were holding me. I thought it was a fever dream of desire. I would not have come back to life if it had not been for your touch.”

  They were silent for a moment at the enormity of what he had said.

  “When I tell them you’re well, you’ll be free to go,” she warned him. “And I’ll have to leave. You’ll go to your bedroom at the Priory to rest and grow strong, and I’ll go home and come back tomorrow to see that you continue well. Sir William may call the Chichester physician.”

  “Then tell them you won’t know till tomorrow,” he instantly replied, and when she hesitated, he said again: “Alinor, I am begging you. We have no chance, we two. We have no chance to be together in the world, but we can have today and tonight, if you will just tell this one, this little lie, we can hold each other. Tell them that you are waiting to see the fever break, or the spots come out, or whatever it is that you might wait for. And give us today and tonight and tomorrow, here alone. Nothing more. I ask you for nothing more. But I beg this of you.”

  She hesitated.

  “You need not lie with me unless you choose to,” he offered. “I ask nothing of you but to be here with you. You can see I can’t force you.” As he spoke he realized that he was unmanned, as Zachary had said he would be. He shook his head to clear it of the malign thought. “I don’t want to force you. You shall not be constrained. I won’t even touch you if you don’t allow it. But, Alinor, give me a day and a night with you before I go out into that world where I have lost everything but you.”

  Without replying she rose up from the bed and she untied the laces down the front of her linen shift, so that he saw, for the first time, the curve of her breasts. She untied the waistband of her skirt and dropped it to the floor so that she was naked but for her open shift, and beneath it, he saw the outline of the long line of her haunches and thighs.

  “If you want, we will have today and tonight,” she agreed, like a woman preparing to drown in deep water. “Today and tonight,” and she came to his arms, half naked.

  At noon Rob came to the yard under the window. Alinor leaned out, smiled down at her son, and told him that she was sure it was not the plague but she would stay and nurse Mr. Summer until his fever had broken. She praised him for the herbs he had chosen and said that she needed no more, just another jar of oil of lemon to bring down the fever. She told him to ask Mrs. Wheatley for more small ale and for Stuart to send up their dinner in a basket. She said that Mr. Summer was sleeping and he was feverish but no worse.

  “But how are you, Rob? You don’t have it?”

  “I’m well,” Rob said, looking up at her. “And Walter is well, too. I checked him for heat and I looked at his throat. No inflammation, no spots on his back or his chest. Whatever ails Mr. Summer, I don’t think Walter and me have it.”

  “God be praised,” Alinor said. “And, Rob,” she lowered her voice as he stepped closer to the wall and looked trustingly up at her. “Don’t be troubled about your father. Mr. Summer won’t speak of meeting him and we need say nothing. Don’t speak of Zachary till I come out and we can agree what we want to say. Especially, Rob . . . don’t be unhappy about him. He has made his choice and will live his life. We’ll make ours. You should be happy. You have so much to look forward to.”

  He nodded, his eyes on her face.

  “And go and tell Alys to stay the night at Ferry-house,” she instructed him. “I’ll be home tomorrow. And say nothing to her yet.”

  She blew him a kiss and he ducked his head in embarrassment, waved his hand to her, and went from the yard.

  James, in his makeshift bed, watched her close the window and step back so that she could not be seen from the yard below.

  “All well with him?” he asked her.

  “God be praised,” she said.

  He found he could not say: “Amen.” He thought that he could no longer speak to his God.

  “I think I should make a new bed for you with clean sheets,” she said. “And shall I ask Stuart to bring water for you to wash?”

  “Yes,” he said. “And we shall have all day and all night,” he said. “This is like a dream, as if I still had fever.”

  At once she put the back of her hand against his forehead. “No,” she said. “No fever and it’s no dream.”

  “And tomorrow . . .”

  “Let’s not think of tomorrow till we have to,” she whispered, and he drew her down to him, as he lay on the bed and pressed her against him.

  The hours went by unnoticed. Two or three times Stuart called from the yard below, and Alinor threw on her gown and let down the rope from the window. He passed up food, water for washing, ale for drinking, but they hardly noticed how often he came, nor what he brought. Alinor made up the bed with clean linen and they both lay down together naked, made love, fell asleep, and woke to make love again. They watched the sun set over the marshes from the west window, and they saw the moon set. All night they stirred and woke and made love and slept, as if there was neither night nor day, and they needed no light but the flickering candle that made their moving bodies glow.

  “I never knew that it was like this,” James confessed. �€