Wil was numb when he finished his speech. He sat down where he was simply because he didn’t know what else to do. When she hobbled over to sit beside him he felt his heart began to beat again – and beat more strongly than he had ever noticed before. Here was a beautiful, intelligent and compassionate woman who was genuinely concerned about him. Feeling her brush against him sent a warm glow through his entire body, and the dark shroud that had settled over him was washed away by her tears.<br/><br/>Her words then filled Wylyam’s empty insides with the warm glow of well-being that came only from being trusted and cared for by another. It was a feeling that Wil was completely unfamiliar with yet hoped would never end.<br/><br/>When she took his hands he watched breathlessly as her fingers became intertwined with his. The innocent yet unintentionally sensual contact sent the inexperienced young man right over the moon. It took every ounce of concentration he had to remain focused on her words, which he did as best he could.<br/><br/>Wil blushed in embarrassment as she explained the reason her father did not want to marry her off. It suddenly felt to him as if he had jumped to the wrong conclusion and upset them both unnecessarily. Even so he found himself breathing deeply in a sigh of relief. If her father was half as reasonable as his daughter then there was a chance Wil could bring the man around. After all, if luck favored him he just might be able to outmaneuver his stepmother and secure his father’s county one day.  Until he inherited that title, though, in her father’s eyes he would only ever be a lowly squire. Suddenly Wil had even more reason to secure his place in the peerage.<br/><br/>With newfound resolve he turned to glance back at her, his eyes tinged with a mix of both sadness and hopefulness at the same time. His spirit soared when she asked again about receiving his letters and mentioned the idea of them perhaps having children one day. Although she turned away in modesty when she spoke of these things, in his heart the squire knew she was being sincere. Even the very idea that she was willing to entertain these thoughts bolstered his spirits against all the odds arrayed against them.<br/><br/>In response he allowed his mind to wander to a future time when perhaps they might be joined as man and wife. An overwhelming feeling of joy and pride swelled in him as he imagined what that would be like – especially if she were carrying his child in her belly. It was a future so intoxicating to imagine that it caused the fire to spread rapidly from her hands throughout his entire body until he was almost giddy and lightheaded.<br/><br/>Fearing that he might take leave of his senses and take her in his arms in some unwholesome way, Wil had to force himself back to the present moment. Raised most of his life by the clergy before being thrown into a friendless household and later assigned to the strictest of mentors; Wylyam had only a faint inkling of how exactly how couples made love in the first place. All he was sure of was that he was not the kind of man who would take advantage of an unmarried woman dependent upon him for protection, as she was in that moment.<br/><br/>With those feelings somewhat pushed aside, Wil cleared his throat a few times before looking deeply into her light blue eyes and replying.<br/><br/>“It’s times loch these Ah wonder hoo mony fowk in th' warld ur in loove wi' someain who wulnae marry them. – Ur they ur themselves married tae others.. Yet here we ur...” he said, his voice fading into an ironic silence for a moment. “Anyway, Ah will make ye three promises, Elizabeth Saville of Lake Palace. One, when we part Ah will indeed write tae ye, an' write often. Ye will ne'er wonder abit mah feelings fur ye so lang as thaur is parchment an' ink anywhaur in this land.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in before continuing.<br/><br/>“Two, Ah will nae spick 'at dreaded word tae ye ever again,” he said, referring to her request not to say the word ‘bastard’. “That is, as lang as ye promise tae stop callin’ me ‘Sir’.” He shook his head as he glanced down at their intertwined fingers. “Ye hae taken mah heart an' sool. Ah am but yer slave tae commaind. It makes nae sense tae call me ‘Sir’; ‘Wil’ is fine,” he said with a broad smile.<br/><br/>“An’ three,” he said after a deep breath, “By aw 'at is holy; th' next time Ah cause ye tae weep… they will be tears ay joy.”<br/><br/>He squinted as he looked over at her, searching her eyes for a reaction.