He spoke to her, though, if only through his verse. One night in the banqueting hall, just before a ball, he responded to requests for a verse by raising his glass high. Though he spoke to them all his eyes were on her.

"Tis not that I am weary grown
Of being yours, and yours alone,
But with what face can I incline
To damn you to be only mine?"

She walked out before she heard the rest.

How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough to know you will be leaving soon. I thought I should speak to you. I didn't think you would come to tell me. Would you have?"

"No. I wouldn't have expected you to care. You followed me?"

"Like a lovesick swain. Wherever you go, there am I. Haven't you noticed these past weeks?"

"I have seen you drinking and mocking with your jaded friends and your latest paramour on your arms. Or is it still Castlemaine? Have you no self-respect?"

"No. None." He shrugged. "Love is war, and feigned disinterest my armor. You wear yours too, love. It is sad I know.

He groaned and leaned his forehead against hers, “You drive me mad, Elizabeth. I dream I am holding you every night. I wake in a sweat, aching and disappointed. Dreams of you have replaced my nightmares, but they leave me empty and restless and my body on fire. I can't even remember why we argued. I don't care how things went wrong.

You missed a fine opportunity there."

Her heart raced as she whirled around. The hoarse voice was William's. He stood behind her, somewhat worse the wear for drink. He was pale in the moonlight, his hair a dark halo, hard eyes glittering with some inner fire.

"What do you want, William?"

"I want you.

I couldn't return to you, mignonne. I didn't know how. But you will admit, I hope, that for a man who didn't wish to be found I've made quite a spectacle of myself. I wanted you to hear of me. It's why I came from France. I couldn't stop myself. I've waited in dread, wondering if you'd come. I've been terrified you would, and terrified you wouldn't. When I saw you tonight I wanted to weep. I was so grateful you came, but I hated you for it, too, because you made me hope again, as you always have, as you always do. It would have killed me if. . . Ah, Christ, love! You were so angry, so disappointed but you'd waited. I had to know. I had to come because without you I have nothing to believe in, nothing to hope for, and... Oh, God, Sarah, when I got here you were wearing my shirt! I've thought of you, and ached for you, and missed you with every breath. All I know of loving, wanting or need, begins and ends with you. I'm so sorry I hurt you and disappointed you. I pray you can forgive me, Sarah. I need you to hold onto. Without you I find this business of living so very lonely and so very hard."

She threw herself into his arms and he clasped her to him, sobbing with relief and need. "God, how I've missed you, Sarah," he moaned, sliding his cheek up and down against hers, mingling their tears. I'm sorry ... so sorry .. . please forgive me, I.. . "There's nothing to forgive. It wasn't your fault. It doesn't matter, not any of it. All that matters is that you're safe, and well, and back in my arms. Don't be sorry, just hold me, love me.

I crave the sweet surrender of sleep and my dreams' uncensored communication: no tiresome small talk, sucking up to impress, or tiptoeing around charged topics. Dreams are the naked truth; get ready for it.