Page 54 of The Scot

Chapter 23

“But you’ve only just arrived!”

Idalia stood next to her near the hall’s entrance just after sunrise as they said goodbye to their father.

The previous night, the men had surprised them by joining them for the evening meal. Unfortunately, there had been little opportunity for a private talk with either Terric or her father. Her father’s title dictated he should sit next to their host. Lance, as always, sat on his other side with Idalia next to him. And because the steward had seated her next to Idalia, she’d been too far to converse with either her would-be suitor or her father.

“Be thankful,” Idalia had whispered. “They speak of nothing but the upcoming battle.”

She’d hoped Terric would ask to speak with her privately before the meal, but he’d contented himself with a parting glance that Roysa had struggled to interpret. Was it regret? Longing? Something else?

She’d slept very little, and just before morning mass, Idalia had pulled her away to tell her of the plan they’d devised the previous night. Although the council had agreed to keep it a secret, Lance had divulged some of the details to his wife. She didn’t know what Terric’s mission was—only that he’d be gone and back in less than a sennight if all went according to plan.

Thinking of Terric, of the plan he had not shared with her, she’d fidgeted through the priest’s sermon. Eager to see Terric. To talk to either him or her father. But neither of them had appeared at the morning meal.

Indeed, Roysa had broken her fast alone.

Only afterward, when Idalia had rushed up to explain that Father wanted to speak to her, had she learned why.

“He knows,” her sister had said. “Father’s about to leave, but he wants to talk to you, and he knows about Terric.”

She’d found herself face-to-face with Father before she even had time to recover, Idalia’s words floating through her mind.

“Why do you leave so soon?”

Her father looked around, as if assessing who stood within hearing. They stood just outside the hall, which ensured there would be little privacy if they spoke openly.

“Over here,” Idalia said, escorting them to a more private alcove not far from the stairwell that would take him downstairs and out into the day.

“A plan has been devised. We worked well into the night.”

It was not an answer.

“We know, Father,” Idalia said.

He gave Idalia a sharp look, the likes of which he’d never once used on Roysa. She hated that her father favored her so openly. Speaking to him about it mattered little. He would simply chastise her for worrying unduly about ‘such minor concerns.’

Minor concerns. Such as her sister’s feelings.

She loved her father, aye. But Roysa would never understand him.

“Lance told me.”

Idalia’s answer pleased him even less. Roysa wondered what he would say if he knew Idalia had been invited to attend the war council? Lance had actually requested her presence. The only reason Idalia had declined was because Roysa had received no such invitation, not that she’d expected otherwise. If there were not already rumors of her and Terric, that would certainly have helped them along.

“Then you know why I must leave for Stanton. Immediately.” His gaze shifted to Roysa. “Your husband is dead. Langham adhered to the marriage contract, but you left anyway?”

“There were rumors. That he had his brother killed for . . .”

Saint Mary above, please do not force me to explain this to him.

“Rumors.”

Her father sounded skeptical, but she would not back down. He had not been there, after all, and she felt certain she’d made the right decision. “Aye, rumors. And given what we now know, it appears those rumors were true. Langham is clearly not worried for his claim. But then, why would he be if his brother”—she refused to call him her husband any longer—“was secretly opposed to John, and Langham is the king’s man?”

She could see Idalia’s open mouth from the corner of her eye. She’d meant to speak forcefully. Her father wouldn’t have listened otherwise. While most lords might expect their daughters to be acquiescent, their father was not most lords.

“And you would remarry so soon. Without my permission?”