Page 15 of The Scot

“Did your sister speak to you about . . . the king?”

That was one way to discuss the matter.

“You mean, the rebellion? Of which you are one of the leaders?”

Ah, there was the scowl. She’d almost missed it.

“It seems she did. So you understand the stakes.”

“Aye, very much, Chief.”

She took another step toward him, drawn forward by a force she did not altogether understand.

“Then you know your brother-in-law—”

“Former. That man is no relative of mine.”

Roysa stood just next to him. And though the bedchamber was massive, it seemed smaller than it had before. It was not unusual to receive guests in such a style, and Roysa hadn’t given it much thought. Until now.

“Former brother-in-law, then.” There it was again. He didn’t smile, exactly, but the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. It dropped as soon as he began speaking again. “While your late husband remained neutral in this conflict, Langham has not.”

“How do you know?”

His look would make a weaker woman’s knees buckle. This man was supremely confident in his abilities. Or his knowledge. Maybe both.

“We’ve suspected. But the confidence with which he claimed the barony, even after apparently murdering his own brother, suggests he is firmly John’s man.”

“You know about that?”

Although she’d not told her sister to keep the information to herself, she hadn’t expected it to get back to him so quickly.

“I know everything that happens inside these walls.”

“Everything?”

He raised his brow, indicating he took it as a challenge. Good. She’d meant it as one.

“Everything.”

Ugh.

“Then you’ll know why I would like you to leave this chamber. Thanking you, of course, for your hospitality in offering it to me.”

“You are very welcome, Lady Roysa,” he said, his tone suggesting otherwise. “And aye, I can guess. ’Tis likely the same reason I am glad to leave it.”

He began to do just that and then turned back.

“I have asked your escorts to leave. If you do happen upon them before they do so, kindly do not give them any information.”

Did he think her an idiot?

Apparently so.

“You mean I should not tell them to report to their lord that Dromsley Castle is home not just to its ill-tempered earl, but also to key players in a rebellion against the king?”

He looked as if he would murder her.

“Good day, Lady Roysa.”

“Good day, Chief.”

Then, thankfully, he was gone.