He knew now they were meant to be together. It was the staying together that seemed impossible. Danger was all around. From Roundheads and witch-hunters. From his own family, God spare him.

He owed the Sealed Knot men a favor. It would surely be a dangerous errand, a fool’s errand, him likely paying his debt to them with his life. If something happened to him, how would Felicity manage alone, with a child?

And yet.

A baby. His baby. He’d never imagined he’d have a family of his own. He thought of his father, of all they’d shared. Of how great an impact he’d had on Will’s life. How much the man had formed him, taught him.

If he said good-bye to Felicity, he’d never know the other side of that relationship, would never be a parent to a child. He’d never teach his son or daughter to ride, never share that great gift his father had given him.

How could he survive with his child out there, somewhere, growing up without him? He couldn’t bear not being with Felicity, not seeing her become a mother.

Not seeing her become his wife.

For that’s what a child meant. Will was already her husband in his heart. A child was simply proof of that love.

He watched her, riding on the road back to Tor Castle. Watched as she stroked her belly, regularly reaching down to rub circles where their baby grew, some new inner radiance brightening her already too lovely face.

She thought this news would mean she’d be able to stay. And though his heart protested, he knew that, now more than ever, she needed to leave.

His brother had made it his lifelong goal to destroy anything Will had ever loved. If a young Jamie would maim a boy and his pony, what would he do to Will’s child now that he’d grown into a man desperate and bent on revenge?

Will’s own father hadn’t been able to protect him, and from his very own son. How could Will be assured that he’d be able to protect his own child?

Will had no choice. He’d have Felicity and their baby safe.

And he knew now it would kill him to do so.

That he’d never lay eyes on his child was a crushing loss. It would be the single greatest tragedy of his life. Second only to saying good-bye to Felicity.

The ride was a blur, silent and anguished. Seeing Felicity’s newfound joy, his pain redoubled. His love for her would grow on, in this child she carried. And sending them away would destroy him.

They arrived, and a letter awaited him. Ewen left them, going straight to check on Lily. But Will opened the envelope immediately, standing there in the entryway.

“Who’s it from?” Felicity shrugged off her cloak, handed it to a maid. “Who even knows we’re here?”

She felt light and giddy, and in the way of all great moods, she had the sense that everything was now going to go her way. She was sure the letter would bear some additional bit of amazing news. Like Jamie was apologizing, or maybe the whole king thing was settled.

“What’s it say, Will?”

“It looks to be two letters, actually,” Will muttered.

“Are they both to you?” She craned her neck to get a better look. “Why don’t you open the other one?”

“It’s not to me.”

“What do you mean it’s not to you? Who’s it to?”

“Och, woman,” he snapped. “Please give me a moment.”

She’d been riding so high, his brusque tone came as a shock. “Ouch,” she mumbled, feeling herself deflate.

“Och,” he growled again. “I’m sorry, love.” He looked at her, and his expression startled her. There was a blankness there, a deadness in his eyes. “ ’Tis only . . . this is happening sooner than I’d expected.”

“What is?” she asked quietly. “What’s going on?”

He sighed. “The letter. It’s from Ormonde. A summons from the Sealed Knot men,” he said, showing her the opened letter. “And”—he gestured to the elaborately sealed envelope—“a message for the King.”

“The King?” she asked, taken aback. “What do they need to write to the King about?”

“Cromwell.” Will was remote, his mind seeming to whir on other things. “He’s dead.”

“Wow . . . well . . . that’s a good thing, right?”

“His son Richard has been named his successor. Be it one Cromwell or another,” Will mused distractedly, “time will tell what that means for Charles.”

“But what does this all have to do with you?”

“Don’t you see?” He pinned her with his gaze, his attention clicking back to the moment. “The Sealed Knot asks that I be the one to deliver word to the King.”

“I . . . I’m still not getting it. Where is he? I thought the King was—”

“In Belgium? Aye.” Will crumpled his letter in his fist. “He’s in exile, in Bruges. And I’m to deliver this message to him.”

“Oh.” It finally hit home. Will had to leave, to see the King. In Belgium. “Well, I’ll just go too. I’ve never been there before.”

“The only place you’re going is back to your own time.” He stared at the King’s letter in his hand, his face a hard mask. “This has become far too dangerous. My brother, witch-hunters . . . they are nothing compared to this. Cromwell’s spies hope to intercept just this sort of correspondence. To capture and kill those who carry it.”

She’d been feeling so joyful, and the intensity of her emotions took a pendulum swing to anger. “So you’re still going to send me back.”

“That’s why we came,” he told her, subdued. “To get instructions from Cameron’s witch.”

“But we just found out I’m pregnant. You’re going to let me go even though I’m pregnant?” He simply nodded, and so she pressed, “So you’re just going to say good-bye. Even though I’m carrying your baby. How can you do that?”

“I do it to save you.”

“I don’t get it,” she snapped. “I don’t get how all these other women are allowed to stay here. Lily, Maggie, whatever the hell their names are. Why can’t I stay?”

“It’s not safe for you.”

“Ewen let Lily stay! She’s even had babies, and she’s still fine.”

“Ewen is chief of his clan,” he said evenly. “Who am I? I’m not even an eldest son. Jamie won’t rest until he sees you dead. And a child of mine? Even worse. He’ll rally religious zealots, Parliamentarians, my old Covenanter enemies, he’ll use all at his disposal to see me . . . to see us destroyed. I cannot see you and a baby . . .”

He shut his eyes as if to gather himself. When he opened them, the man she knew had retreated, and before her stood the stoic William Rollo once more. It made her unutterably sad. “I cannot see you and our baby in danger. I love you, Felicity, and this is the only way I know to protect you.”

“You could come with me then.”

“No.” The foyer was dim, and torchlight flickered on the edges of his features. A handsome face, through some strange alchemy turned to steel. “I can’t. I have obligations. I made a promise. I must see the King restored.”

“Seriously, Will.” She was grasping at straws. “Listen, England had a queen when I left. They’ve got princes coming out of their ears over there. The monarchy was alive and well. Your work is as good as done.”

“I would,” he began, looking pained. “I would go with you. But I made a promise, and I am a man of my word.”

“How’d they even know how to find you?”

“The Sealed Knot men can’t be underestimated.”

“Well they sure found you mighty fast.”

“Perhaps I’d mentioned to Ormonde that we were traveling to Lochaber.”

“Perhaps you’d mentioned it,” she said testily. She put a hand up to silence whatever excuse he was about to give her. “Whatever. I get it. There’s no convincing you. It’s bye-bye Felicity. The noble hero is gallivanting off into the sunset and certain death.”

Her voice cracked on those last words. Anger and confusion and grief clawed at her, paralyzing her thoughts, freezing her tongue in her mouth.

And, for the first time in a very long time, Felicity was silenced.

Chapter 31

Will came for her in the night. Though they’d been given separate rooms, he’d come for her every night as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

But this night was different. This night she knew would be their last.

She lay there, silently, wondering if he’d know she was really awake. She feigned sleep, but her anger she didn’t have to pretend.

But she needed him. She loved Will, more desperately than ever. She needed him near, and so she lay still, listening as he unlatched the door, slowly pushed it open, walked to her bed.

She heard the shuffle and light tap of his cane, and the sounds seared her. Ran her through. He was gorgeous and noble. Thoughtful, brilliant, kind, and brave. But it was Will’s vulnerability that she loved most of all.

She heard him pause. He stood by her bed, not making a sound. She was terrified he’d leave. Terrified Will might turn and go, forever.

Felicity considered saying something, but stayed mute. She’d already said it all. There was nothing left to say.

There was the heavy sound of wool falling to the floor. His plaid. Relief burst through her, a tingling cascade across her chest. She realized she’d been holding her breath.

She felt the skim of bed linens against her skin, and moved just the slightest fraction over, making room.

Felicity lay on her side, her back to him. Still she pretended sleep, but wondered who she was kidding. She was naked. Waiting.

She felt the mattress give with his weight. It was stuffed with dried heather and made a light crunching sound as he lay next to her.

Did he think she was asleep? Surely he could tell from her breathing that she wasn’t. She wondered what he would do. Would he wake her? How much did he want her?