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seem unimportant, which was why she needed more distance between them. She needed her head clear to think. But he was sick and in need of her help. He trusted her, and she wouldn’t let him down.
    To his credit, Robert had been quick to receive the message that they would be no more than travel companions. It was Violet who couldn’t seem to live with her decision. Something inside her came to life in his presence. The sound of his voice drew her notice to the exclusion of others, and when he was in sight, every gesture, no matter how slight, enthralled her, for it was all part of him. She couldn’t get enough of his presence, or touch, or the way that he listened and respected her wishes—such as when she asked him to leave her alone. Well, he hadn’t done so well with that, but no one was perfect.
    Violet whispered his name. She lifted his hand to her cheek. “Come back.”
    A soft sound came from his throat. She looked up. His eyelashes flickered then closed. Violet brushed the damp hair from his forehead then blew softly on his feverish brow.
    They were never alone. She had tried to persuade the monks to go on with their usual duties, but the issue was nonnegotiable. Despite that, she wouldn’t leave his side. So a monk sat in the chair, and she sat on the floor beside Robert’s cot.
    In the gray haze before dawn, she succumbed to her feelings. How could she deny that she cared? She had pushed him away because of her feelings for him, and it had worked. She had regained a sense of control over her emotions but at what cost? Would she miss out on a chance—perhaps her only one—to know love? No matter how short, this time could have been theirs. The thought brought tears to her eyes. She had wept when Jack had betrayed her, which was more than he had ever deserved. But this man deserved her tears and more. Her heart was so full of him that she could no longer hide from the truth. With a soft smile, she whispered his name.
    “Don’t leave me.” She laid her head on the edge of his bed, and she wept.
    A hand touched her head. Violet looked up to find Robert watching her. She clutched his hand and kissed it then rose to her knees and touched his forehead and face. Smiling through her tears, she looked at the monk then back at Robert, whose gaze rested on her.
    “You’ve come back!” she said.
    He tried to smile. “Are you weeping for me?”
    “Don’t flatter yourself.” But she knew the relief in her eyes belied her words.
    He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. She held his hand to her cheek, gazing into his eyes with unguarded affection. The corner of his mouth turned up a bit, then his eyes closed and he went back to sleep.
    Monks came in and out through the day, checking on Robert as he slept, then speaking outside the room in hushed tones. At first Violet paid them no heed, caring little about their medical opinions—except to be ready to step in if they thought about doing something like bleeding him. But with increasing concern, she noticed their talk growing quieter, more urgent, and more secretive. Something was wrong, and whatever it was, they were not telling her.
    When Robert woke next, one of the monks brushed past her and sat beside him. He spoke in tones too quiet for Violet to hear.
    When he had left, Robert looked at Violet and forced a weak smile. “Would you fancy a walk?”
    “You can barely sit up.” The fact that he even suggested it made her question how lucid he was.
    His eyes narrowed. “A walk in the courtyard would do me good.” He slung the quiver containing the scroll over his shoulder. It hadn’t left his side since he had returned.
    When he struggled to rise, Violet leaned down and whispered, “Have you lost your mind?” She took hold of his arm and helped pull him up.
    Once standing, he smiled, leaned close, and spoke quietly. “We cannae talk here. Help me walk outside.”
    They passed two monks and walked through a stone arch to the courtyard. Violet helped ease