Page 85 of The Knight’s Reward

Neill disagreed, but remained silent.

“You might have heard of some of my past decisions . . .”

He paused, giving Neill an opportunity to refute him, which he did not do.

“But all that I’ve done was to preserve my home, my land. One that has been in our family since William.”

“We all make difficult decisions,” he said to be polite. Privately, he thought no piece of property was worth more than family.

Lyndwood drank deeply, his cheeks already reddening. This was not his first wine of the day. But still, Neill held his tongue, giving the borderer the opportunity to speak his mind. Though he was not inclined to like this man, Lyndwood was a borderer still, and that afforded him some respect.

“And you’ve one still to make. But I wonder, do you know Lady Alina’s father?”

That gave Neill pause. He did not, in fact, know anything of deBeers other than that he was a baron whose daughter was a favorite of the queen’s.

“His wife is cousin to Joan of Navarre,” Lyndwood continued, after pausing long enough for effect.

“The French queen?” It was not possible. He’d have learned of the connection after the tournament. Adam or Cora would have told him.

“Very few know of it.”

“Yet you are privy to this information?”

Lyndwood smiled, and Neill decided he rather agreed with Reid and Graeme—he didn’t much like this man. He was the sort who thrived on power. Who cared little for the consequences of his actions if he directly benefited from them.

Are you acting any differently with Kathryn?

But he didn’t have any time to devote to that thought, for Lyndwood had already launched into his explanation. “DeBeers and I fostered together many, many years ago.”

“Ahhh.”

That, he could understand. The ties between boys who were trained together were as strong as those of family, much like he and Aylmer.

“Which means . . .”

He considered the import of what he’d learned as Lyndwood watched him, likely knowing the exact direction of his thoughts. If deBeers was a relative to the French queen, he could be dangerous to Edward, whose father’s policies had brought the two countries to the precipice of war. If this man, the one whose daughter Neill was supposed to wed, had any influence over the French king . . .

He was an important man to Edward.

Too important to disappoint. Much more important than the long-running, exhausting situation on the England-Scotland border.

Hadn’t he always said this king was more interested in France than he was in Scotland?

“If I do not wed his daughter,” he said aloud, “Edward risks falling out with a man who has the potential to tip the scales of war.”

“Some say ’tis an inevitability. But certainly Edward attempts to avoid it. You cannot renounce your betrothal.”

“We are not betrothed,” he said, knowing the argument was weak.

Lyndwood finished his drink and poured another, filling Neill’s goblet without being asked.

“A minor detail.”

Of course, he knew as much.

Kathryn’s face flashed before him. He could feel her head nestled against his chest even now. Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, Neill sat back against his chair’s velvet cushion, even Lyndwood’s small chamber not without the luxuries of the royal court.

“If you do, Caxton will remain as warden. The Day of Truce will not resume.”