Thomas caught her hand, pulling her to him. She fell into his lap and clutched desperately at her own body as if her heart had been torn apart and she could push it back together with the strength of her arms. Thomas held tighter, letting her rock back and forth. He held her until the wails became sobs and her shaking slowed and her arms finally came around him, squeezing his head to her breast while tears rolled down her face and into his hair.
“I’m sorry,” said Henry from the door. He was still in his armour, covered with blood and filth, his sword sheathed at his side. “I should never have let you do it.”
“You knew?” said Thomas.
“I saw the extra man in line and guessed.” He stripped off one glove, revealing a hand red from the blood that had soaked through the leather. “I was too bu
