Your father is gravely ill. Robert’s carefully penned missive was quite clear. Fear spread through her, cold and numbing. After all she’d done to protect her father, he couldn’t be sick now. She wanted him to get better, to regain the vitality he’d lost since Gregory’s death. She wanted her father back. “Is it bad news, Lady Elizabeth?” Walter stood by her side in the great hall, eyes narrowed as he eyed the message warily. “My father is ailing.” “I’m sorry to hear that, my lady.” “Where is Lord de Bremont?” She folded the parchment, her decision made. Her father needed her. Certainly, no one here did. “I believe he’s with his brother.” “Thank you, Walter.” She turned toward the stairs. “But, my lady, I don’t think you’re supposed to visit – ” “Aye, I know,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried up the stairs. Trust Walter to remind her to stay away from William. What she needed to tell Nicholas was far more important than worrying if she upset William.
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