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It was more than that; I did not deserve someone like her. I caught up with her in the kitchen."Clare, I am really sorry. I can't take the words back, but believe me, I would if I could."She looked at me though red-rimmed eyes. "How could you say such a thing?"I tried to explain, but my explanation was puerile, utterly puerile. In essence I was blaming her for Ray's over-familiarity with her, blaming her for my own impotence. I looked at the floor, knowing full well that if I were to look at her, I would also break down in tears.But it was to no avail because I no sooner felt her arms envelop me, than I too, was silently weeping. I had set out to comfort her, but instead she was now comforting me; comforting me even though I was responsible for the whole thing in the first place. I looked into her eyes. What a sight we must have been. Both of us in tears, yet each trying to console the other.I embraced her, my wife and the embryonic life form growing within. We kissed and I felt for. "You are to send her things later, all of them, carefully packed, her clothes and whatever else is hers. I will tell you where and when later. If you fail, I will return and feed you your liver and lights." But," the girl said."Get your jewelry, anything you must have and go dress to travel," I told her quietly."Now?" she asked. "It's nearly midnight." Now," I said. "Be quick."I chivvied the man down into his dank cellar, tied his wrists to his ankles and locked him in. His servants would find him in the morning I was sure. Then I saddled the horse the girl wanted, got her astride as I enjoyed the feel of her body and legs, and we rode carefully and slowly northward, along roads seldom patrolled or blocked. By the false dawn, we had traveled perhaps five miles at little more than a walk, and we stopped at the first tavern showing some light.While we broke our fast, she told me her story. Her guardian, she had concluded, had discovered she was sending messages in code and, she had.
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