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Jamison was listening with interested. “Do ye believe Lord Preece or his sons were part of the Welsh army that attacked Four Crosses?”

Havilland shrugged. “It is possible,” she said, “although Lord Preece has never been aggressive against us.”

Jamison pondered that. “We believe that those who attacked you are Welsh rebels belonging tae Madog or his sons,” he said. “Ye’ve never known yer neighbors tae be part of these attacks?”

She shook her head. “Not that we have seen,” she said. “My father has managed to keep peace with most of our neighbors and even though we are not exactly allies, they do not harass us.”

He thought on that information for a moment. “It must seem strange tae live in a land where yer neighbors are of a different breed.”

A faint smile creased her lips but it was not one of humor; it was irony.

“I have lived in Wales my entire life, but I am not Welsh, nor is my father or sisters,” she said.

“The Welsh look at Four Crosses as a structure that belongs to them and must be purged of the English that possess it. The attack on us a few days ago was only one in a long line of many. You simply have not been around long enough to see everything we have gone through over the years. Were our neighbors part of that attack? Probably not. But they would not rush to our aid to help us if that was your thought.”

Jamison shook his head. “It wasna a thought, in fact,” he said. “Ye say the attack was one in a long line of many. De Lohr told me the same thing.”

“It is true.”

A servant brought a tray with bread, cheese, and a steaming bowl of gruel. Jamison politely offered his food to Havilland first, purely out of courtesy, but when she refused, he plowed into it with gusto.

“Is there a pattern tae these attacks, then?” he asked, mouth full. “Do they come regularly?”

Havilland watched him eat. “Not really,” she said, studying the lines of his handsome face and realizing with increasing certainty that her interest in the man had not abated.

“We have been bombarded badly over the past few months but there is no real pattern to them. They attack for a few days and damage us just enough. Then they retreat and return again a week or two later.”

Jamison took a big drink of his watered wine, smacking his lips. “Have ye sent scouts tae follow them tae see where they go?”

“Not lately,” she replied. “We do not have enough men to lose them so easily.”

He looked at her. “Have ye lost patrols, then?”

She nodded. “Aye,” she said. Then, she exhaled sharply, as if somehow baffled or annoyed.

“Since you are asking about recent attacks, I will tell you honestly that I believe we may have a spy within our ranks. Months ago, I was able to send out regular patrols but then the most recent series of attacks happened. I would send out patrols to assess the enemy, but I lost patrol after patrol. It was as if… as if they knew we were coming. I lost eleven men before I finally stopped sending out patrols. Now, we sit here dumb and blind, waiting for the next attack to happen.”

Jamison was listening with great interest. Now, they were starting to get somewhere. Random and vicious attacks against a castle made no sense, but now… was there a spy among them? And was there more of a purpose than simply purging the English from Wales?

“What does yer father say tae all of this?” he asked. “From what I understand, he is a seasoned knight. Surely he must have some thoughts about it.”

He couldn’t help but notice her expression changed drastically when he mentioned her father. She seemed to take on an edgy appearance, unable to look him in the eye.

“I am not entirely sure,” she said, averting her gaze. “My father… he has been quite ill, you see, and my sisters and I do our best to keep our worries from him. We fear for his health. He will try to do too much if he knows all that is happening.”

She was speaking on her elusive father and Jamison thought to take advantage of it.

He could be quite gentle and sympathetic when he wanted to be and he’d never had a lady deny him anything he wanted to know.

However, he knew Havilland was different.

She didn’t seem to think like any of the women he’d known and she certainly didn’t act like any he’d known.

She was strong and brave and intelligent to a fault.

He couldn’t imagine she would be easily manipulated.

Therefore, he had to treat her very carefully.

He liked talking to her and he didn’t want to lose the rapport they’d established. He moved forward carefully.

“I am sorry tae hear yer father is so ill,” he said quietly.

“I can understand that ye wish tae protect him. I had a grandfather years ago, when I was very young, who was ill most o’ the time.

Me da told me that his father used tae be a great warrior but I only knew him as a sick old man.

He had a sickness of the body that affected his mind.

He would sneak out at night and return tae the sod home he was born in, which would have been well enough had it not partially collapsed.

We would have tae go after him and drag him back home.

Sweet Jesú , he would scream as if we were killin’ him.

We’d put him tae bed but he would sneak out again the next night.

Sometimes sick men dunna know just how sick they are. ”

Havilland was watching him as he spoke, feeling herself warm to the conversation.

He was telling her something personal about himself and it endeared him to her, just a bit, even though she had no idea that his confession was calculated.

She simply thought it was rather sweet that he should tell her.

“My father can be difficult, too,” she said. “How long ago did your grandfather pass away?”

“Twelve years,” he said. “It seems like ages ago now. What seems tae be yer father’s affliction?”

They were back on the subject of her father again.

It was a dangerous subject to be on, a slippery slope of secrets that she didn’t want to start down.

Once down that path, it would be very easy to reveal too much.

But the truth was that Jamison was quite easy to speak with.

She liked it. Her interest in the man, something she had tried desperately to shake, was now becoming an unbreakable thing because he was difficult to resist. He was kind and handsome and powerful.

Still, her last threads of common sense screamed at her.

Do not give away too much!

“His body has simply given out,” she said generically. “My father was a very diligent man and an excellent knight. He is old and his body has simply given out.”

Jamison was sympathetic. “I understand,” he said, “but if ye allow me a few moments of his time, I promise I wouldna overtax him.”

Havilland shook her head, looking to her lap. “It is impossible,” she said. “He would not want for men to see what he has become. He would be ashamed.”

“Is that why ye dunna allow the de Lohr to see him?”

“Aye.”

Jamison wasn’t entirely sure that she wasn’t telling him the complete truth, in fact. For a great knight to be seen as a cripple, or worse, was the worst fate he could imagine. “But ye see him,” he pointed out gently. “He doesna mind if ye see him?”

She kept her gaze on her lap, thinking of her once-strong father. It hurt her to see what he’d become. “I have to make sure he is taken care of,” she said simply.

Jamison could see by her expression that there was something far more troubling about her father than she was letting on.

Perhaps the man was, indeed, dead as Thad and Brend had speculated.

He was just opening his mouth to reply when a familiar face suddenly entered the hall.

Jamison found himself looking at Thad as Thad looked at Havilland.

“Lady Havilland,” he said pleasantly. “We have been looking for you. You and your sisters have been scarce as of late.”

Havilland looked up at Thad with something that looked like annoyance. She didn’t seem all that happy to see him. “We have been busy,” she said.

It wasn’t much of an answer and Thad grinned that big, toothy de Lohr smile, looking between Havilland and Jamison.

“I see that Jamie was able to finally corner you,” he said, helping himself to a seat beside Havilland on the bench and causing the woman to scoot a couple of arm length’s away from him.

“We have been wondering why you do not send out patrols now that the Welsh have retreated. Has Jamie asked you about that yet?”

Jamison spoke before Havilland could. “The lady and I have already covered that,” he said, not at all pleased that Thad was interrupting his time with Havilland.

“She has explained tae me her reasoning but I think, as of today, we are going tae resume patrols. Will you see tae this, Thad? Random patrols at random hours. The lady has said we are sitting here dumb and blind tae the activities around us. Ye must change that.”

Thad cocked his head, seemingly confused. “’Tis as I said, too,” he insisted. “The Welsh could be amassing over the next hill but we would not see them until it was too late. Patrols are essential.”

Jamison cocked a red eyebrow at him. “Then see tae it.”

Thad was coming to sense that he wasn’t wanted here but he was resistant to leave. He had shaved and combed much like Jamison had and he wasn’t ready to leave Havilland’s presence yet. Big-breasted and long-legged beneath that tunic….

“I will,” Thad said, looking to the food on the table and helping himself to the bread there.

“But I have not yet broken my fast. Lady Havilland, would you be so kind as to regale us with stories of life here at Four Crosses as of late? Life when the Welsh were not attacking, of course. What do you and your lovely sisters do to keep yourselves occupied? It has been a long time since last I saw you and I want to know everything.”