Page 22 of The Protector’s Promise

“Betrothed?”

Court frowned. “When she fell in love with her husband, Geoffrey, she was betrothed to the Earl of Archbald.”

Marion’s hand froze halfway to her mouth. Something about how he said her name . . . her husband’s name . . . “You are in love with her.”

He did not appear pleased about her observation.

She was right!

“Was in love with her,” he finally corrected. “I care for her, of course, but she is married now.”

Marion thought back to what he’d said before. And while she filled her stomach, she pieced together that which he had not told her.

She had an idea of what may have happened. “Richard gave you Camburg to get you away from Kenshire. Away from his daughter.”

Court’s face twisted in a way that told her she was right.

“But why? You said he loved you like a son. That he—”

“He did.” Court scowled at the cheese on their trencher as if it had gone bad.

“So why did he—”

“Richard had plans for her. Bigger plans than a young knight with nothing but an ancient title and no land to go with it.”

The pain in her chest came without warning. And the strangest thing about it was that Marion could not tell if it was sympathy for a man who had been deemed an inferior match for the woman he loved, or the knowledge that he had loved that woman so deeply that it continued to affect him.

Either way, it did not concern her.

The stone. She had to remember her purpose here.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, finishing her meal.

They continued to sit in silence until the hall began to empty.

“I’ve been away,” he said finally, “and need to meet with my men. As soon as yours arrive, I will send for you.”

Her plan. She needed to get that stone before he attacked Scotland.

“And I may walk the grounds, speak to people here?”

He looked at her oddly. “You are not a prisoner here, Marion. You may leave at any time. When your men arrive—”

“Nay,” she said, much too quickly. “We have an agreement.”

“One I mean to honor.”

He stood, and she did the same. “Elaine can show you—”

“I will find my way,” she assured him.

“Very well,” he said with a slight bow. “Until we meet again.”

He walked so quickly from the hall, Marion wondered if perhaps she’d offended him. The thought pained her, but in the end, it hardly mattered. She needed to learn all she could about her Englishman. And either convince him to relent on the attack or get him to let his guard down enough for her to take what was hers.

She meant to have the stone. She meant to do her duty as its guardian.

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