Aside from Heaven
4H
Got money just tell me what you want me to
Vivienne shot up, gasping for air and hearing her own breath.
It's a nightmare. It has to be a nightmare.
Putting her hands to her side, she heard and felt the crunching of leaves, confirming she wasn't in her bed. The very air was dank, the smell of the earth, wet and biting. She was watching her own breath when something caught her eye. Slowly, she looked to her left to see the body of her father lying peacefully dead on the ground.
She was living her nightmare.
One minute, she was sitting in the dirt on the forest floor, looking at the ridiculously pale body of her father; the next she was up, stepping backwards, moving away. She heard voices, angry voices, and she knew they were hunting her. Quickly, she turned, running, her nightgown tripping her, getting in her way. Her anger at the restrictiveness of her garment was obvious and with her next step, her clothing changed to unfamiliar trousers made of a rough blue material and a loose tunic. She was no longer barefoot, but wearing comfortable leather shoes with strange ties and padded insoles. The forest was dark, barely enough light to see and the branches switched and whipped her face and arms as she raced past.
She realized she had company, something keeping up and running alongside of her. Swerving around a large tree, she took a quick glance. There, some feet to her right, was Her Wolf. She called him hers as she had had this dream many times since she was a young child. She would go months, a year or two without having it and then, all of a sudden, the dreams came back, along with the wolf.
Initially, she had been terrified of him. He was huge, large, stayed in the shadows, but as time went, she grew less and less afraid, considered him a bystander or a guardian of sorts. He always kept his distance and when he ran with her, whatever chased her, faded away swiftly.
Abruptly, there was silence. The voices, the crowd, was gone. It was just her.
And the wolf.
In the filtered moonlight, she stopped and turned, looked at him for the first time, still panting from exertion. 'Who are you?'
Silence.
'Who are you?'
The wolf stepped from the edge of the mist and cocked his head. For the first time, he was not just shadow, he had form. He was large, even for a wolf, with a long, pointed snout. His coat was an inky black, with a grey streak along one ear. Something about him was familiar. She shook her head.
'Who are you? What do you want with me?'
The wolf sat down, eyes tightly shut and still shaking his head.
Finally, she took in her, their surroundings, gazing at this strange glade she was unfamiliar with. It was beautiful, peacefully quiet and while she had never seen this place, she felt she knew it, knew the pond, the stream. She had been here before. She refocused her attention on the wolf in front of her, waiting for her.
'Do you bite?' In the echo of the silence, she heard... snickering? Why would a wolf laugh at her?
She felt no fear of this beast, regardless of the danger he presented to anyone else. Slowly, she stepped forward, hand out-stretched, fingers searching. 'You won't bite me, will you? Do you have a name, big guy?'
She reached for him. The wolf stood fast, watching her, oh so very much watching her. Paying no heed to his mouth, she dropped to her knees and touched the side of his head, cupping him beneath the ear, and sinking her fingers into his fur. In that moment, he leaned into her, her hand, cherishing her touch, relishing her nearness. As he relaxed, she saw his face, saw him. He opened his eyes.
They were blue. Blue as glass...
~~~...~~~
"Who won't bite?"
Vivienne's eyes flew open. She sat up, disoriented, eyes searching. Finally, she focused on the speaker. "Hugh?"
Hugh FitzGisborne sat next to her on her bed. He greatly favored his father, save that he smiled more than the austere brute she screamed at. "I came the moment I heard. I am so sorry about your father. I had much respect for Simon. I know the two of you were close." He inspected his hands, not the smooth things of a courtier, but calloused and rough from wielding a sword. "I've sent a messenger to Fulks. I suspect he'll be here by tomorrow evening at the soonest." He reached for her and pulled her into a friendly and comforting embrace.
"You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did. You are like a sister to us." Hugh squeezed her once before turning her loose and grasping her by the shoulders to look at her. "He would be most upset if I had not."
Vivienne began to cry. "The two of you hated me growing up."
"You were a pest, just like a sister would be a pest," he responded with a laugh. "Now, who will not bite?" Dawning overcame him as he took in her ashamed look. "You have been having dreams again."
"Please, do not speak of it. People will think I am strange."
"You are strange," Hugh took her back into a protective embrace, cradling her head to his shoulder. "I cannot wait for you to meet Ellienna. She has been very closeted and will need a friend. You will like her."
"Is there something I should know about?"
Vivienne attempted to pull back, but Hugh held her fast. "She had a bad dream, father."
William walked into the room. "A dream?"
"'Tis nothing. I am fine." Vivienne moved to untangle herself from her friend's embrace. For some odd reason, the Lord of Locksley made her hot and uncomfortable. It was if the room was charged with thunder and lightening. "Just a dream." She straightened her dress. "I should see to my father's body."
"No need." William's voice was like rock on granite. "It has been taken care of."
"But I should go down-"
"No you should not. There is no need," he reiterated tersely. "It was an honor to have Simon as part of my entourage. I considered him a close friend and I cannot replace him. I am sitting with him, along with several of my senior knights. I have made the arrangements for his burial. You should rest." He then addressed his eldest. "I have received word Fulks is on his way. He will be here tomorrow afternoon." He stepped further into the room. "Your father left instructions for you, for your welfare. We will discuss them later." He then nodded to his son. "Stay with Ge-... with Vivienne."
As he turned to leave, Vivienne noticed his eyes and profile were those of her wolf.
~~~...~~~
The following weeks were a haze to Vivienne. Her father's wake, mass was sung for him at the chapel in Nottingham. She had to argue to have him buried next to his wife; it appeared some felt he should be buried with honor at Kirkley's.
Fulks arrived from Harridston – and stayed. When they were younger, he had been a dark, sullen child, looking like his mother – or so people said – but since his return from France, he was relaxed, happier. He spent much time with Vivienne at the creek, fishing and laughing, before his father sent him to Harridston to take control of his mother's estate the previous year. He took up much space and time at her table, which she was grateful for, especially those first few weeks. She liked to cook and he liked to eat.
"Did your father's men ever find the one villain in the gang that got away?" She was talking about the group that attacked Lord William's entourage.
"Yes. They killed him in their pursuit of him, so we do not know who set them on my father's knights. 'Tis strange." It was a painful subject; Vivienne was still grieving, so he changed it abruptly, not realizing this new topic was equally sore to her. "You know, your father left guardianship to my father when he passed." He lifted the pheasant bone he was gnawing on. "This is good. You will make someone a good wife. Father will chose well for you. I will make sure of it."
"I do not desire to be anyone's wife. I have lived here all of my life and I do not wish to leave."
"That might be true," he returned his attention to the plate in front of him, "and you had your father wrapped around your finger, but my father will not be so easily swayed. Ah, now here is an idea!" He dropped the bone to the plate, causing it to rattle and echo throughout the home. "You can marry me! You can plant your healer herbs, keep my peasants healthy and feed me! I shall be a happy lord of a lovely, if humble manse and you will be my lady!"
"Fulks," Vivienne began to pick up the plates from the table. "We are no longer children."
"Thank Jesu!"
"And you are like a brother to me. You and Hugh."
"True again, but-"
"And I am not noble born. Your father will want someone besides a lowly knight's daughter for you to wive."
"Damnation. I completely forgot!" Fulks' dejection was humorous. "That is true as well." He leaned back in his chair. "Father will find me a nice heiress with no male relatives. Her wealth and property will become mine and my income will grow." He smiled joyously and toasted her with his mead. "'Tis the FitzGisborne way!"
"Exactly." Fulks watched as her hips swayed to the sideboard. When had scrawny, gangling Vivienne grown up? And into such a beauty?
An unholy thought occurred to him. "You know, if Father was so inclined, I would suggest you become his mistress."
There was a crash as Vivienne dropped the plates. "Wot?"
"However," he merrily rambled on, without taking breath, "he has never taken a mistress, much less any servant girl to his bed, since he married." He rose from the table and retrieved the broom from the corner. "So I would not worry of such, if I were you."
As of late, Vivienne's dreams had been filled with her wolf and the Lord of Locksley, all of them heated and filled with desire. They bothered her, left her with unspoken yearnings. Shaking off this uncomfortable feeling, she held the dustpan out for Fulks, taking the broom from him. As she began to sweep, she muttered, "Why on earth would you suggest such a thing?"
"Because you are a woman and you cannot stay here alone." He bent down as she swept the shards of pottery into the pan. "And do not tell me that you can. You are alone and vulnerable. And truth be told, I would rather see you with a man who would take good care of you, than married to an old man away from here."
"And you think your father would be good to me?" Vivienne smirked. "Would be perfect for me in every way, save he is married."
Fulks became strangely quiet and soft spoken. "My mother calls my father a demon. Satan's Spawn. I have heard rumors that he is a wicked, evil man and that Death answers to him. None of this is true. My father is a good man. I have heard stories from the servants in his manse of how he took in Queen Isabella when old Edward was still alive and had his steward's wife care for her injuries she received at the hands of the Despensers. How he kept her hid. I have watched how he treats his servants, how he cares and loves Hugh and myself. During the famine, none of us starved or went hungry. The man may be many things, but he is not evil or wicked." Suddenly, Fulks was standing over her, the heat of him over-powering. "He would the most powerful protector you could possibly wish for. No one would accost you for fear of angering him. You would want for nothing." He stepped away and looked at the modest home, suddenly aware of the class and monetary differences between him and his friend. "I am sorry you broke your plates. I will replace them." Moving towards the coat rack, he pulled his great woolen cloak from the peg and began to button it around him. "It will be dark soon and it is cold. I should be going. I will be back tomorrow."
"There is no need, Fulks. I can go to the market."
"Then I will go to market with you. I want chicken tomorrow for dinner and I wish to make sure you get a plump, fat hen and not a scrawny rooster."
Vivienne smiled and shook her head. "You are incorrigible." A thought occurred to her. "Fulks?"
"Aye?"
"You seem much... happier than you did in years past. What happened? Have you fallen in love?"
He stared at her, took her in, before his smile fell. "Something did happen."
"What was that? We are friends. You can tell me."
In an instant, he became the sullen child he had been before Sir William sent him to France. "My mother. I stopped caring about my mother."
And with that, he opened the door and stepped into the sunset.
~~~...~~~
She was standing in front of two ornate doors and dressed strangely in an opulent red gown. She realized her hands were full of fall roses.
Be happy, Genevieve. He loves you so.
Vivienne jerked to look at the voice. The woman was of an age, blonde and beautiful in her maturity.
No, my name is Vivienne.
She faded away.
Be happy, Genevieve...
The doors opened.
It was a chapel and her wolf stood with the priest, waiting.
She was at the last pew, a sanctuary full of nuns,
Lord William... no, he was dressed... wrong...
She was moving in fast forwarded jerks.
The wolf.
Forward
Lord... William?
Genevieve Faith Robinson, do you take Guy Crispin Gisborn to be your lawfully wedded husband...
Spinning...
Be happy, Genevieve...
~~~...~~~
It was the most opulent, extravagant dinner Vivienne had ever sat down to. It made her damned uncomfortable.
A week after Fulks told her he no longer cared for his mother or what the woman thought, he informed her over yet another meal that he bought and she prepared, his father desired her presence at the next evening's dinner. While Vivienne acted to the world as if she could care less about what Lord William wanted with her, she spent time on her attire and hair. The last thing she wanted was for Lord Spike-up-his-Butt to think she was poor, weak, and unable to care for herself. She saddled and mounted the heavy destrier war beast her father owned and rode him proudly to Gisborne Manor.
Her dreams had become erotic and the Lord of Locksley played heavily in them.
Hugh and Fulks were in attendance and they dined at the new Gisborne Hall. It was smaller than Locksley, more of a hunting lodge, or so Fulks whispered, and it seemed that Lord William preferred the closeness of it to Locksley these days. He claimed the preparations and noise for Hugh's marriage kept him awake and irritable and Gisborne Hall was quiet and what his old soul desired. For the FitzGisborne's, Gisborne Hall was intimate, perfect for small gatherings such as this.
There was no high table, simply one table, long and ancient, and when he thought no one watched, Lord William caressed the old wood seemingly lost in memory.
"'Tis quite odd, he loves this table as much as the old bed in his bed chambers," Hugh whispered.
"One would think he has..." Fulks' voice faded off, realizing what he was about to say and who he was about to say it to.
Vivienne knew where the youngest FitzGisborne was leading. "You are most disgusting."
Fulks shrugged.
William was no longer lost in thought, instead, watching his sons interact with Simon's daughter, trying to discern their relationship. Their comfort and ease with each other was familial and yet again, William felt a pang for the loss of his daughter. What would Cecile have looked like? Would she have been a beauty? Stubborn? Easy going? And what of Vivienne? What would his sons think when he finally revealed his plans for Vivienne to them? He shook his head. It didn't matter. The table had been cleared by the servants, nothing left but the wine. He listened closer to the young people's chatter, waiting for a break to join in and redirect the conversation.
"My Lady, you are... doing well?"
Vivienne had the good sense to blush. "My Lord, please. I am a common knight's-"
"I wish you would stop saying that!" Fulks interjected angrily. "Your father was not common!"
"Indeed not." William was quick to take the mantle of the dominate voice in the conversation. "Your father was a good man, high in his rank. Many times, he was offered position in higher courts. He refused them. He has titles you are not aware of. Which is what I need to talk to you about."
"Titles?" Vivienne was confused. "My father had no titles."
"Your father was raised and granted the title of Baronet by me. The entirety of Clun would have been his to oversee." William looked up to see three jaws hanging agape around the table. "Your father was a great man, a humble one, and much of what was accomplished here and throughout England in the last decade would not have come about without his help. I planned to inform him and hold a celebration upon our return from the north, however..." his head wobbled, not wishing to state the obvious. "I received word yesterday from the king, accepting your father's promotion to his title. As his only heir, you are now a baronetess. You have a title, land, income and a dowry."
"My father left me a dowry?" It was a squeak.
"I have left you a dowry," he corrected, "and as your guardian, I will oversee your income for now. Until you are married, of course."
Her attitude immediately changed. "That is what this is about. Who you are going to marry me off to!" Her eyes narrowed. "To whom it would befit you best to marry me to!"
Both boys sat up, eyes large. No one dared take that tone with Lord William Edward FitzGisborne.
William, for his part, did not appear to be insulted, but continued on. "As your guardian, anyone who offers for you, must have my permission to court you and ask for your hand. Of course, if you would prefer the cloister, that can be arranged as well." He sat at the head of the table, calm, collected, hands folded on the table, his eyes focused on his goblet.
"CLOISTER?" Vivienne shot up from her chair. "I do not wish to be a nun! And I most certainly do not need a husband!"
William's eye rolled up to stare. "You most certainly do need a man to take you in hand. Your father was lenient."
"My father knew my worth!" Vivienne was still standing. She turned to the terrified servant standing behind her chair. "Tell the cook she is most excellent and if I were able, I would steal her from this... this... noble person! If you would retrieve my cloak and my horse, I will leave now!"
William was smiling slightly. "I will arrange an escort."
"I do not need one!"
"Aye, but you do. Word will be out shortly and soon, would-be suitors and other undesirable men will be hounding your doorframe, pestering your ladyship. They will know your worth, as well. You will be accosted in the square, possibly kidnapped, dragged to an altar. It would be too easy for a unscrupulous man to take what you have by force. I am willing to protect for you for a time, but until you are married, you are vulnerable. We will need to find you a husband or protector soon."
The air become hot and closed as Vivienne stared her guardian down. She was close to crying and the men in the room could see it. It was an ugly comeuppance. Finally, she turned and grabbing her skirts, ran from the room.
William stood, along with his sons. Fulks made to go after her, but William waved him off. "Both of you sit. We have much to discuss." He made towards the door as well, taking Vivienne's cloak from the servant. It was not lost on him that it was rich fur-trimmed cream and the broach at the collar was ornate. "Send Timon and Alfred to the stables to attend Lady Vivienne to her home." The girl curtsied and hurried off.
As William went through the doors into the large entryway, he noticed Vivienne standing in front of a wall of artwork. Although he was far, he knew what she stared at. Signaling again for his sons to stay put, he closed the door and went to stand behind Vivienne. "My lady... Vivienne..."
"Who is that?" It was a pained, strained whisper. She nodded to the framed portrait in front of her. "Who is that?"
When Roland FitzGisborne went through the scrolls hidden in the catacombs of Ripleys next to Guy's coffin, he found several things he did not expect to find. He expected the copy of the contract Genevieve pained over to make heads or tails of, but he did not expect to find a copy of Genevieve's sketchbook. Her dream home among them, along with the sketch of Guy she'd drawn in the gazebo of Ripleys on their wedding day. Roland didn't know how it got there or how long the Guy's in the family would be allowed to keep it. Alise was a competent artist and she'd copied both during her first confinement. He had never shown her – or anyone – the contract. It, along with the original pieces of art, remained in the protective scroll casing at Ripleys.
And the copied drawing of Guy was what Vivienne was staring at.
"Please. My Lord. Who is that?"
William cleared his throat. "That is my ancestor, Sir Guy of Gisborne. He was the Master-At-Arms at Nottingham Castle in the late 1190's. He resided, grew up here, where this manse now sits, the only son of a honored and titled knight. His father died before he reached his adulthood and the bailiff stole the home from him. It was later stolen from the bailiff by Robin Hood."
"Robin Hood?" Vivienne muttered under her breath. "I thought he was a myth."
Both were now staring at the charcoal drawing. "No. He lived and robbed like a good thief. Sir Guy fought to become a knight, earned not only his stolen home back, but Robin's as well. He died at Nottingham during a siege. His grandson, Roland FitzGisborne was awarded the property and title back for deeds for the crown of King Henry II and has grown the endowment. Roland was my great-grandfather."
Vivienne was still staring at the portrait. "'Tis said he breathed life into you."
"Aye."
Her attention returned to the portrait. "I know this man." It was a whisper.
"'Tis said I resemble him. That is not me."
"I know this man."
"Vivienne, he has been dead for over a century.
She was shaking her head. "He dances in my dreams and begrudges my slumber. His bedevilment is never ending. I would not care if he slept next to me, if he would simply allow me to sleep."
With that, she took her cloak from his arm and slinging it on over her shoulders, walked through the front door to her waiting horse and escort.
William waited for several moments, listening to her mount up and leave.
"Father?"
William was not surprised to see both sons standing next to him. Hugh handed him his goblet of wine. "When did Simon become a baronet?"
William was still staring at the door. "It was to be a surprise." He nodded up the stairs. "You will find the king's signed decree on my desk in my room." He wandered into the seating room on the other side of the entry way. The fire was stocked and William sank into a chair, propping his booted feet on a short table. He sank his nose into the chalice, waiting for his sons to join him.
"Simon was to be given – was given – Clun and the armory." Clun had grown since Sir Guy's time. It was now walled and boasted of an armory, as well as was considered and utilized as an outer-lying guarded outpost for Nottingham Castle. "His allegiance would be to me. I would be his overlord, but the barony would bring a nice income to him and to his daughter. He would have been able to dower her well."
Hugh sat down across from his father, Fulks choosing to stand. "This barony did not come from-"
"It is part of Gisborne, which still belongs to me, whelp." William drained his goblet and reached for the jug. Refiling his drink, he continued. "I realize I could have said nothing and simply absorbed it back into Gisborne, but as her guardian, I am compelled to my best by her."
Fulks was staring into his goblet. He resembled his mother, but he was built like his father, tall and lanky. "I will marry her."
Hugh was shocked.
"Do you love her?"
"No, she is like a sister to me. But she would be miserable with someone she did not know and I would hate to see her with someone who did not care for her." He shrugged. "I figure Harridston is big enough. She can live on one side and I will live on the other. And when I die, Harridston would come back to the FitzGisborne Estate."
Guy sighed with relief. If Fulks fancied himself in love with Vivienne, it would make what he planned to do harder. Bad enough he had argued with the angel over the last few evenings over this decision. "I am glad to hear that, however, I have someone in mind for you. I expect to have negotiations in hand by summer."
"You have said nothing to me about this?"
Hugh waved his brother off. "What plans do you have for Vivienne?"
"What plans do you have for me?"
William was enjoying this. "For you, an heiress of sizable fortune and a wonderful vineyard."
Fulks planted both fists on his hips. "Have we not had enough French women in this country?"
Hugh barked with laughter at his brother's whine. William joined him.
"She comes with a substantial yearly endowment, which will be handed to you, and you will put into your estate. When her father dies, and he is elderly, so I would expect him not to linger, the vineyard will go to our cousin Guilliame. He has done me a great favor for some years and this gift will please him. You will continue to draw her endowment, as well as a percentage of the profit from the sale of the wine made from the estate."
"Sounds reasonable," Fulks nodded. "If she is pretty, I will be happy. If she is not, I will put a sack over her head and make sure the candles are dampened at night."
"She is not ugly. I have met her. You did as well, when you were at Aigues-Mortes. Her name is Henriette and she is the only daughter of the Duke of Le Grui-du-Roi. She is quite beautiful, as well as accomplished and educated well."
"And rich!" Hugh finished. "Oh, the wine, my brother. Oh, the wine!"
Fulks satisfied with his father's choice of bride, refocused his attention for his childhood friend. "What are your plans for Vivienne?"
William propped his right foot over the left. Martha would be furious to find dirt on the table, but William came to the conclusion a long time ago that she loved to fuss. "She does not desire a husband and in this, I am willing to not force one on her, however, she needs a protector, as she is not safe. She will fight this decision, for her father allowed her to have her way since she was born. We will need to convince her of her need."
Fulks was thinking. He was the more devious of the two and had a better eye. Since their return from Aigues-Mortes, William had quietly groomed him as a spy. Sooner than he would like, Edward would need someone to infiltrate and watch over his kingdom. While William wasn't old, his time with Edward II wore him down. He was looking forward to retirement and now with the opportunity presented to him, the desire to become a quiet, country lord was pressing and urgent.
"The best way to make her see that is not safe for her to abide alone is to convince her she is not safe alone."
"Are you saying we rob her?"
Fulks began to smile and it was an evil smile. "No. I believe he is saying that she is simply to be frightened and one of us should be there to rescue her."
"No." Now William interrupted. "I will be the one to rescue her. Again and again. Until she realizes what she needs."
Dawning crossed Hugh's features. "Father, if you continually rescue her, she will lean on you. Perhaps, the man you desire for her to marry should do the rescuing and wooing?"
William was beginning to chuckle as was Fulks. "Father has no one in mind for her to marry, Hugh."
"But-"
"He said protector. Not husband."
William nodded.
"But who? Why a protector?"
Fulks pointed at William. "Protector."
William gently set his goblet on the table and put his feet on the floor. "Fulks, there are several things you and your brother need to understand. While I no longer hate your mother for killing your sister and desire her death, she is not right in the mind and is no wife to me, nor is she mistress of my estate and my home desperately needs a woman. Not a chatelaine, but a mistress. A lady. Mellisande becomes more and more violent with each passing day. She is locked in her cottage and drugged senseless most times. Edward would allow me to divorce her, as would the Church, however I will not give her cousin a foothold on Harridston. He is a drunkard and half mad with the pox, but I will give him nothing. When I married Mellisande, I did not promise to love or cling to her, much less be faithful. I tried. I honestly tried. I have not neglected her or abandoned her. Neither one of them can live forever and I would like someone in my life to love before I am old and crippled.
"At the same flip of the coin, I will not give Simon's title and land to anyone. There is no one I know that I like well enough to give it and Vivienne to. Truth is, I have no intentions of giving it up. It needs to come back to me. There is only one way to do that and that is to woo and bind Vivienne to me."
Hugh was now scratching his lip, lost in thought. "She is my friend, father. We played together as children. She bound and cleaned my scrapes and bruises. And you are-"
"If you say 'old', I will send your bride-to-be back to her father and send you to Kirkley's Monastery to be ordained and tonsured."
"-austere."
It was silent for a few moments. Finally, Fulks spoke up. "Promise me, when you tire of her, you will not just set her aside. That she will be cared for always. That there will be a place for her. A home, income. Always. For if you do not provide it, I will."
William rose, feeling tired and rejuvenated at the same time. It was an odd, heady, feeling. "She will never want for anything. I will not set her aside. Ever."
Hugh paled, full understanding what Fulks and his father were plotting. "Father. The staff has said you have never taken a mistress, never taken anyone to your bed. Why Vivienne? Why now? You do not know her!"
William smiled, thinking back on a time when he was an angry man and called 'Sir Guy'. He remembered Genevieve, in Clun, angry and riding away from him. He remembered her calming influence. The world just seemed... right. "She reminds me of someone I loved many years ago. Before I was contracted to marry your mother."
"Papa," Hugh used that old old beloved name that melted William every time. "She is not that girl. That woman."
"She has her spirit." William grinned and Hugh realized that in the past hour, his father looked younger than he could ever remember him looking. "I promise I will not force her to my bed, that she will want to come to it and stay. I will cherish her and I ask that the two of you respect her regardless of her decision and that you respect the relationship we create." He headed towards the door.
"And what if she says no. What then?"
William stopped at the door. "She will not say no." And with that, he left the room and headed up the stairs to be
tbc