Page 22 of My Highland Bride

I think for a moment before shaking my head. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“I’m going to tell you something, Stokerton, as you’re courting my sister. And because I know you to be a good and honorable man. But if our paths should not converge, you must vow to pursue this matter using the connections available to you.”

“It would be easier to make such a vow if I knew of what we discuss?”

He glances at the smaller tent to the left of the one where Moray and I first met. I know it is Reyne’s and that she’s likely inside with her handmaiden, preparing.

“She will be out any moment,” Warin confirms.

His behavior is slightly alarming. From what I remember of the boy, Warin was much like his father. As stoic as I am not. A trait I could admire though am unable to emulate. But this eve he is anything but.

“Go on,” I say, unwilling to fully commit to him until I know more.

“Earlier today I spied a man, apparently his name is Edward Kyle, the third son of a minor Borderland family, speaking with Rawlins. It seemed suspicious enough that I sent a page to listen to their conversation. Rawlins told him, ‘Another Saitford is necessary.’ I saw the man again later, speaking with someone I do not know. Reyne and I were able to listen to enough of their conversation to learn something will occur the morning of the melee while everyone is distracted. Kyle said, ‘He will be there’ and that ‘now is the time to strike.’”

Becoming more and more alarmed as Warin speaks, I attempt to put all of this information together.

“Who will be there? And what is happening the morning of the melee?”

He gives me a flat stare. Of course he does not know the answer to either question. But Warin is correct about one thing. This matter must be pursued.

“When Rawlins said another Saitford was necessary, my stomach turned, knowing what happened in that village. Knowing it was our own countrymen who did such a thing,” Warin says.

Could Lord Rawlins be personally responsible for the attack?

I consider what I know about the man. His land lies at the foot of the Loigh Mountains. Hempswood Castle was one of the first built here in Edingham, but it has changed hands many times, moving back and forth between Rawlins and the Merians. Most recently, Rawlins took it back with the help of mercenaries at a considerable loss.

“How long ago did Rawlins regain Hempswood?”

Warin frowns. “My father remembers the battle well and says it was nearly ten years ago.”

“What would he have to gain were Cettina to agree to an attack on Meria?” I ask, not expecting a response. The meaning is clear to both of us—if Rawlins did such a thing, his intention was to provoke the queen to attack Meria. And, since it did not work, he aims to do it again to force her hand.

A stillness descends around us, prompting me to turn toward the tents.

I can no longer move or talk, struck dumb by the sight of Reyne in the deepest of royal blue dresses, its sleeves nearly down to the floor, her hair free-flowing with not one adornment . . . she is magnificent.

I want her.

Not for the allegiance her father brings. But for her. I want her against me, her lips pressed on mine.

“I’ve not seen you look so serious before,” she says to me as Warin and I rejoin the others at the fire.

“This is a serious occasion,” I respond. “A first for us both.”

“Father”—she leans down to kiss him on the cheek—“thank you.”

Apparently he has decided to allow me to escort her alone? Does she not think such a thing strange? He doesn’t appear at all guilty for accepting the thanks of the daughter he’d deceived, however well-intentioned the deception. Warin, on the other hand, looks as if he might be ill. Because of what he learned? Or because his sister knows nothing of our plan?

“I will return her safely,” I vow. “You have my word.”

Warin levels a stern gaze at me. “We will take you at it.”

As the others gathered around the fire go back to their conversation, I offer my arm to Reyne. She tucks her hands into it, and together we move toward the horses.

“Will you ride with me?”

She looks at a beautiful white mare, considering, and then back to me.