By Design by Madeline Hunter Page B

obligations as well as rights. I am responsible for you now.” A new firmness entered his tone.
    “I do not accept either the obligations or the rights. I will leave when I choose, without any explanations to you.” They entered the kitchen. “However, I do not expect to do so tonight, so you need not keep watch.”
    With his departure, she sank down on the bench againstthe hearth. She felt as though she had been holding her breath for hours.
    She should wake Mark and go. She would be free of Rhys, and the confusion he kept evoking in her.
    But how would they live once her coins were gone? She had only two things to sell to ensure their survival. Her craft and herself. She knew not where to find work in the former, and she could not stomach the notion of resorting to the latter.
    He knew that. He knew that necessity would keep her here more surely than any indenture. Aye, he was a man, and in this no better or kinder than most.
    But they were safe here for a while. She was certain now that Rhys did not know yet. But someday he might. Then what? Keeping silent might cost him dearly, while exposing them would ensure a powerful man's favor. She would not count on any man risking himself for her, even a man who wondered what this might be .
    She looked over at Mark. His stomach was truly full for the first time in years. He had not gone looking for trouble in the city tonight. This place would be good for him.
    They would stay while she planned what to do next. She would start learning about other tile yards and kilns. Free of George, she could earn coin for her skill now. Maybe in a few weeks… maybe …

C HAPTER 8
    J OAN SLOPPED SOME WATER onto the plank flooring and stretched to scrub a corner of the solar floor. She did this every day, even though it hardly needed it. Only Rhys used these upper chambers, and he spent little time in the house. Still, she did it along with other extra chores. She did not want anything unbalanced in this arrangement.
    This effort would be especially noticeable today. It had rained, and only now was the afternoon sun emerging. The light breeze blowing in the window carried the mixture of freshness and fetid damp that only a summer storm could cause. The floor would not completely dry before Rhys returned this evening.
    A burst of laughter and a scuffling of footsteps rose above the city sounds. A raucous noise of youthful horseplay tumbled into the house from the street and began rolling up the stairs to her. Mark stumbled into the solar, still nudging and jostling another boy by his side.
    “This is my sister, Joan,” he said, playfully aiming another elbow. “This is David.”
    David looked to be a bit younger than Mark. He was shorter and slighter, and had not yet begun that quick, manly growth that had occurred with Mark in the last year. A beautiful boy, though, with golden brown hair and deep blue eyes.
    “He's a mercer's apprentice, and lives a few lanes over,” Mark explained while he and David paced around the chamber, curiously examining its contents.
    “Shouldn't you be at your trade, then?” she asked the boy, rising from her knees to greet him.
    “My master went to Westminster today, to show some silks to a lady. The older boys went with him, and he closed the shop.” He peered into the bedchamber. “Not much here for a house so big, is there? Always seemed odd, just one man in such a place. It is not so grand as my master's house, but it is overlarge for one person.”
    “Well, there's three here now, isn't there. For a while,” Mark said in a superior tone. He had obviously decided that age and strength dictated the pecking order in this new friendship.
    David looked out the window. Something caught his attention and a peculiar, almost hard expression veiled his face. For a moment he reminded Joan of the street toughs that Mark had known. It would be just like Mark to find a new friend who had a taste for trouble.
    He kept watching—long enough that she got