EMILIE STORMED PAST the guards to Anne's bedchamber. Please, ma'am. One guard went to restrain her. The lady is resting.

Emilie's blood was surging. The duke had returned the night before, yet it was not Stephen who was in her mind but Anne, her mistress, the person she served, who had lost touch with right.

All morning, Emilie had prayed about what to do. She knew she had crossed a line with Hugh. My God, she had given aid to someone who'd killed a member of the duke's guard. For that she could be imprisoned. She had asked herself over and over, If I cross this line, am I prepared to lose everything? My family's blessing, my position in the court. My name... And each time the answer had come back clear and strong. How could I not?

She pushed open the large wooden door to Anne's chamber.

William, Anne's nine-year-old son, was about to leave, dressed in his hawking attire. Anne waved him off. Go. Your father awaits you, son. Catch a prize for me.

I will, Mother, the boy said, running off. Anne was in bed at this late hour, still wrapped in bedclothes.

You are ill, madame? Emilie asked.

You storm into my chambers, Anne said, turning her face away, as if concern were not the issue at all.

On the contrary, I have much to take issue with you, Emilie said.

Take issue, child.... No doubt this, as all things, concerns your prot俫? the fool.

You are right, madame, he is a fool. But only to have trusted you. As am I.

So, this is no longer about him, I see. But you and me...

You have wronged him in a great way, my lady, and by doing so, wronged me.

Wronged you? Anne laughed coldly. Your Hugh is a wanted man now. A murderer, a deserter as well. He is sought in two duchies and will be caught. And once he is, he'll be hanged in the square.

Emilie stared, aghast. I am hearing your voice, lady, she said, but the words do not seem as if they could come from you. What has become of the woman who was like a mother to me? Where is the Anne............