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“Are ye going tae make me beg, lass…?”

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“P reece’s body is going to be found by someone, at some point,” Tobias pointed out. “Will they believe he simply fell into the river and drown or will they think someone killed him?”

It was sunset at Four Crosses as Jamison sat with Tobias and Thad in the great hall, now mostly vacant as servants moved about, preparing for the evening meal. The fire burned hotly in the big hearth and the dogs were spread out over the stones, warming themselves on a cold winter’s evening.

Jamison was on his third cup of the average-tasting wine they kept at Four Crosses.

The wine had been shipped from France according to the burn marks on the barrels but it was surprisingly mediocre.

Jamison had noticed it from the beginning.

But it wasn’t so mediocre that it couldn’t get a man drunk, which was all he was concerned with at the moment.

He was a bit woozy but didn’t care. He needed something to fortify him after the day he’d experienced.

“He drowned,” Jamison said simply. “There is no great mystery tae it. Whoever finds him will think he fell intae the river and drowned.”

Tobias shook his head still baffled by the entire situation. “Madeline,” he muttered, sipping at his wine. “God’s Bones, who knew she was capable of such things?”

“Not me.”

“Do the men know? Surely they must have seen you take her to the vault.”

Jamison shook his head. “Only a few at the gatehouse saw,” he said. “The sergeant in charge has told the men not tae speak of it, tae anyone. He is also personally selecting men tae guard her, men he trusts. That should keep the rumors quiet for a while.”

“But the men are going to eventually miss her, Jamie. She is always around.”

“When the time comes, we will tell them the truth. But for now, out o’ respect tae the family, we should keep it quiet.”

Tobias couldn’t disagree. His thoughts then shifted from Madeline back to the circumstances Jamison had described by the river’s edge and the horrors therein.

“And Havilland,” he said after a moment. “Had you not followed her, she would more than likely either be dead or someone’s concubine by now. You saved her life.”

Jamison didn’t want to think about how close he came to losing Havilland but, on the other hand, it was all he could think about. The wine wasn’t doing much to wipe away that terror. With a heavy sigh, he drained what was left in his cup and moved to pour himself more.

“I canna believe a sister would permit her own flesh and blood tae be threatened so,” he said. “But it wasna just Havilland; it was all of us. She put all of us at risk feeding the Welsh information as she did.”

Tobias nodded his head. “Agreed,” he said.

“My father shall know this. I am sure he will want to take Madeline with him when he departs back to Lioncross. I am not entirely sure what kind of punishment he will decide upon, her being a woman, but whatever it is, she will pay for her crimes. Treachery cannot go unpunished.”

Jamison knew that. He took another big gulp of his wine. “But there is something more,” he said, eyeing Tobias. “I heard Evon say something that may be the answer tae a question we have been asking ourselves since we arrived.”

“What question is that?”

Jamison lifted his eyebrows, prefacing some very serious information. “He spoke of Madeline divulging the true sickness o’ her father,” he said. “Roald de Llion isna sick as we’ve been told, Tobias. Evon said that he has gone mad.”

Tobias looked startled. “Mad?” he repeated in disbelief. “Is that why we have not seen the man for over a year?”

Jamison drank his fourth cup of wine in one swallow, standing up from the table and weaving unsteadily a bit.

Wine always went straight to his head. “According tae Madeline, it ’tis,” he replied.

“And I am going tae discover the truth of it from Lady Havilland. If Roald is mad, then yer father will want tae know when he arrives. It changes things a bit.”

Tobias nodded but he put out a hand to prevent Jamison from leaving the table. “Wait,” he said. “Lady Havilland is probably averse to seeing you so soon after you put her sister in the vault, so I will go and speak with her. I’ve hardly had the time to speak with her since the battle ended.”

Jamison looked at the man, squarely, thinking that now might be a good time to establish the line with Havilland.

He couldn’t blame Tobias for being interested in her but he couldn’t let it go on.

Tobias had to know that Havilland was not as unattached as he would have hoped.

Jamison hoped that Tobias would understand and surrender his claim, as a proper gentleman would, but he wasn’t so sure.

Tobias had that de Lohr aggressiveness in him, something that served him well in battle but was misplaced in a situation such as this.

“There is a reason for that,” Jamison said, trying to sound as non-confrontational as possible. “Lady Havilland is spoken for.”

Tobias’ eyes widened. “She is?” he asked. Then, his features flooded with disbelief. “How is that possible? I have heard nothing about this!”

Jamison tried not to smirk like a man who harbored a great secret. “Because it only just happened,” he said. “I’ve asked Havilland tae be me wife. I would, therefore, appreciate it if ye kept a polite distance from her. She’s not tae be trifled with.”

Tobias looked him, dumbfounded. “You… you asked for…?”

“Her hand, aye.”

It was clear that Tobias had no idea what to say. He stared at Jamison, his features wrought with shock, but the shock soon turned to disappointment and he lowered his gaze.

“I see,” he said quietly. “I had no idea you had those thoughts about her, Jamie. Had I known, I would have told you that I had the very same thoughts.”

Jamison already knew that but he didn’t want to make it seem as if he had known. To do so would have been to insult Tobias. I knew ye were interested but I wanted tae get tae her first….

“Ye do?” he said, feigning ignorance. “Ye never told me.”

“I know.”

“Did she know?”

Tobias shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “I would not have told her. She would have probably spit in my eye. Havilland de Llion is a warrior above all. I do not think she gives credence to womanly emotions.”

Jamison wasn’t sure what he could say to that so he didn’t say anything at all.

He could tell that Tobias was upset by the news but, much to the man’s credit, he didn’t argue about it.

He simply acknowledged it. Feeling rather bad that his friend was feeling some disappointment, he slapped a big hand on Tobias’ shoulder.

“She does, more than ye think,” he replied. “I will go speak wit’ her now about her da. I’ll let ye know what she tells me.”

With that, he turned and walked away but a soft hail from Tobias stopped him. Jamison came to a halt, turning to look at his friend. When Tobias saw that he had his attention, he took a step or two towards him, curiously.

“When you asked Havilland to be your wife, what did she say?” he asked.

So he isna going to go quietly , Jamison thought. “She agreed,” he lied.

Tobias simply nodded his head, looking rather like a kicked dog about the whole thing.

Jamison felt bad for the man but not badly enough to try and comfort him.

That would have been odd. Departing the hall and leaving Tobias to nurse his wounded heart and wounded pride, Jamison headed back to the gatehouse where the vault was, the last place he had seen Havilland.

His thoughts switched to her quickly and easily.

She was never far from his thoughts, anyway, so it was easy to open his mind and let her blow in like a breeze, touching everything about him.

He drew in a deep, cleansing breath as he crossed the bailey, gazing up into the sky and seeing that the mist was starting to form again as dusk drew near.

The smells from the pig the cook had been boiling all day were heavy in the air, making the men hungry, and Jamison found himself wondering what the evening meal would be like with Madeline in the vault and traumatized Havilland and Amaline.

Truth be told, he was fairly traumatized himself about the entire thing.

The gatehouse drew near and he disappeared into the small doorway with the stairs that led down to the sublevel below.

There were two cells down there, very small, and a big, fatted torch burned heavily in an iron sconce, giving off a good deal of light as he came to the bottom of the steps and looked around.

Madeline was still where he’d put her, in the first cell, sleeping heavily on a pile of fresh straw and a blanket someone had given her.

He didn’t even feel any pity when he looked at her, knowing what she had done.

But there was no Havilland down here so he made his way back up the stairs and asked the first soldier he came across if he’d seen Havilland.

The sentry pointed in the direction of the stables.

Following the woman’s trail, he ended up in the stables that housed several big horses belonging to the knights.

He found his own horse there, a shaggy black mount he’d purchased in Edinburgh.

Slapping the horse on the arse affectionately, he came to a halt when he heard soft female voices.

He looked around but saw no one until he realized they were coming from overhead in the loft.

Finding the nearest ladder, he climbed up.