Page 8 of Kingdom of Chains

She stared straight ahead, resisting the urge to withdraw her arm. Doing that would only start something, and if she played her cards right, their time together would soon be over. ‘We are eternally grateful—as we have expressed many times.’

‘God had big plans for us, my beloved.’

She rolled her eyes—inwardly, of course. ‘So you will travel to the camps with the defenders? Show them around?’

‘The eastern camp only. The western camp is yet to open. They have been experiencing a few difficulties.’

‘What kind of difficulties?’

The muscles in Hodge’s face twitched. ‘Every time it is close to completion, rebels come along and burn it to the ground.’

That sent a strange spark of hope through Isabel that perhaps the spirit of Carmarthenshire was still alive. ‘The Emlyn group?’

‘That would be my guess.’

She let that piece of information settle. ‘It sounds like the people have spoken, and they are not in support of this new arrangement.’

Hodge’s mouth flattened into a thin line. ‘Fools. They are only delaying peace and civility with their criminal acts.’

Isabel did not think camps were the answer but kept her mouth closed. To King Edward’s credit, he had tried othermethods first, sent armies in to restore order and bring much-needed supplies to families. But order could not be restored to a starving and desperate population, and the supplies brought in rarely made it to the intended families. The wagons fell into the hands of rebel groups known as wastelanders. Though Hodge preferred the term ‘ruffians’. Eventually, the king had focused his efforts elsewhere.

The daisy chain popped into Isabel’s mind. Moving closer to Hodge, she leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘I was thinking. May I come with you?’

‘Come with me where?’

‘To Carmarthenshire.’

Hodge drew back and gave her a confused look. ‘Whatever for?’

‘It was my home for fifteen years. I would quite like to see what has become of it.’

‘You already know. It is a disaster, and I am working very hard to fix it.’ His face creased with disapproval. ‘Besides, you may have been born in the wastelands, but it is not your home. Your home is here at Hampstead Keep—with me.’

She fought to keep her expression neutral. ‘That is very true. My home is wherever you are.’

He was visibly pleased by that response.

‘I would be quite safe at your side,’ she continued. ‘Between you, your experienced guards, and the defenders travelling with us, I would be untouchable.’

‘You want to travel with a bunch of men? Sleep in a tent?’

She had slept with Everard and Ita under the stars many times, wrapped in blankets next to a roaring fire—back when she had appreciated the heat of one instead of losing her ability to breathe around it.

‘You shall remain safely within the walls of Hampstead Keep,’ Hodge said. ‘I shall be back at your side before you know it.’

He stopped walking and turned to her. One look at his face made her stomach fall.

Oh God. He is going to kiss me.

She braced, closing her eyes as he leaned in. The sensation was torturous enough without the visual. Cold, thin lips pressed against hers in a manner that he probably considered passionate.

‘I cannot wait to have you in my bed.’ He whispered the words against her mouth.

She swallowed down the nausea rising up her throat. ‘I suppose I should let you get ready for your guests.’ She was very careful to keep her tone cheerful.

He took her hand. ‘I thank God every day that I got you out of that house.’ He kissed her wrist, then offered her a smile. ‘I shall let Trahern know that you are up and about.’

Not Trahern.