Page 13 of To Protect

“Nay, I do not.”

“Do you believe Sir Eamon is a fool?”

“No,” he admitted. “I think just the opposite of the man, as you know well.”

“I do. Which is how I also know you play a dangerous game. There are many reasons Amalia is a woman you cannot have.”

Roland frowned.

“She is under our protection. Gareth would kill you,” he began.

“I know the reasons well,” Roland said, caring little his annoyance was misplaced for the simple fact that Alden was right.

“Unless, of course, you plan to marry her.”

Roland rolled his eyes. “Which you know well I cannot do if I’ve any hope of inheriting the earldom.”

“I know it well. Do you?”

“I do not wish to marry the woman, Alden.”

“What you do wish to do with her is what worries me,” he muttered.

Roland slapped his friend on the shoulder. “What worries me is that I’ve no one to train with this eve.”

“If you think I wish to miss a meal because of you—”

“Bows first. Swords second.”

Alden never, ever passed on an opportunity to train with him. Alden was skilled, had been raised with a sword in his hand as a blacksmith’s son, but Roland was much more so. And Alden knew it.

“Fine,” he conceded. “But you owe me a meal.”

Roland smiled. “I know a kitchen maid who will be happy to provide one,” he said, thinking of the blond woman he’d been with on his second night at Blackwood. One he’d thought was comely at the time but who could not compare even slightly with Amalia.

Pushing thoughts of the lady’s maid from his mind, he followed Alden to the stables, prepared for a long day and night of training.