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    “ Ayliffe? Good God! ”
    “ Do you know of him? ”
    Dylan laughed ruefully. “ I am amazed that you do not know him. He is ... he has more than I will ever be able to offer. ”
    She touched his cheek. “ But I love you, Dylan. And I know there are rich brides that can give you more than I. Do we doubt now, after all we have dared? ”
    “ Nay, darling. I will come for you. It may take a little while .. . but I will come. ”
    “ And I will wait. ”
    “ Trust me, Anne. Trust me. ”
    She kissed him, again fearing it would be their last kiss. “ Stay here and let me depart alone. If I see your face as I mount with my parents and brothers, my eyes will betray me. ” And so he left her alone by the stream. She shivered at the memory of that moment of cold dread when she feared Dylan had given up on their dream. In the end he was true, but that alone would not keep the pain of parting from bringing its inevitable tears. She sank onto the grassy bank and wept.
    Anne ’ s tears dried, yet she remained seated on the bank of the stream. The spring morning was uplifting, the sky was clear and blue, the birds melodious. Pain was replaced with hope, for soon she could escape with Dylan. She plucked at early spring flowers and her eyes fell on the scar on her hand. She had passed it off as an accident in the weaving room, but it was wrought of a blade. It had happened on a dark, moonless night in the wood outside the Giffords ’ ancestral home, Raedelle Keep, when she had crept from her bed and Dylan had spread his mantle on the grass for them.
    At fifteen she came to know the woman ’ s ways of her body. She longed for Dylan ’ s lovemaking and offered her virginity, but Dylan was the one to deny her. He would not spoil her and by some merciless act of fate leave her violated, or pregnant, and punished by her family. “ If they discover we have been together, it will be hard enough for us, but should it ever be learned that we have shared our bodies, I dare not think of the price we will pay, and you more than I. But lie close to me, and give me your promise we will be together one day. ”
    She had pulled his knife from his belt and before he could protest, she ran the sharp blade across the back of her hand, drawing an immediate swell of crimson blood. “ In blood, if it pleases you, ” she said. His horrified eyes roved from her hand to her face. “ ‘ Tis virgin ’ s blood, Dylan. I will never forsake you. I will love you till I die. ”
    It took him a moment to recover his senses and reckon with the courage of her act. She had not winced or shuddered, but had cut her flesh swiftly and deftly. He took the blade and made an identical cut on his own hand. He smiled sheepishly as he held the bloodied hands together. “ This is a pact most often made between men. ”
    “ I ’ m certain that lovers of old have done this and more, ” she said.
    “ Then I pledge, my love, that we will be together one day . For more than a stolen moment – for all time. ”
    These promises were the ones that bound them still. It would be wrong, they decided, for only one of them to forsake a family. It would only strengthen the feud between the two families, for with such an act there would be a boastful victor and a shamed loser.
    For many years, ever since Henry of Bolingbroke had usurped the throne from his cousin, King Richard II, the earls of Heath wick and Raedelle, Lords deFrayne and Gifford, had supported opposite sides. But they had once been good friends. Lord Gifford, Anne ’ s great-grandfather, sent a message to his friend after Richard had been captured and imprisoned. DeFrayne re sponded, offering Lord Gifford amnesty for his arms. The Gif ford family still possessed that old letter from Lord deFrayne, their proof that the Giffords were wronged, betrayed, for the story went that when Lord Gifford went to the meeting place to surrender, he was ambushed and slain. Family wars ensued and there was much