“I suppose anything is possible,” he said steadily. “But I do not have any relatives from Wolverhampton, so I could not tell you for certain.”
Christian shrugged. “I was simply curious,” he said, perhaps sensing that War had other things to do now. “It has been a pleasure speaking with you, Herringthorpe. I hope this will not be the last time we see you at Castle Questing.”
“It won’t,” War said before he could stop himself because he was solely thinking of Annaleigh. “I hope that this is the first visit of many to come.”
Christian smiled. “I’m sure it will be,” he said. “I look forward to seeing you the next time.”
“Won’t you be coming to Wark?”
Christian shook his head. “When Uncle William and my father leave Castle Questing, I remain behind in command,” he said. “Someone has to keep Lady Penelope from leading a rebellion and taking over the castle. I am the only thing that stands between Uncle William and Penelope’s reign of terror.”
War chuckled. “I’ve not been around the lass much, but I’ve heard tell.”
Christian laughed softly. “I’m sure you have,” he said. “I will send a servant out here with food for you and your men for your journey.”
“I would be grateful.”
Christian turned around and headed back towards the keep. He would do what he told War he would do and send his men some food for their journey. He would also make sure to tell Jordan that War’s accommodations were comfortable and that he was grateful for her hospitality even though she’d never asked Christian to see to the man’s comfort.
That had been all Christian’s idea.
When he was done with the food and his Aunt Jordan, he fully intended to find his father and tell him of the conversation.
But something told him that War wasn’t being completely truthful.
He could see it in his eyes.
De Wolfe eyes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Langton Castle
Seat of Clan Scott
The hierarchy ofClan Scott had changed a few times over the years.
A long time ago, Lady Jordan de Wolfe’s father, Thomas Scott, had been the clan chief. He’d only had one child, daughter Jordan, so when his time came, his second brother, Matthew, had assumed the role. But Matthew didn’t long survive his eldest brother and when he passed away about a year after Thomas, the leadership of the clan passed to Ian, Matthew’s eldest living son.
Many years before in a massive clan war against Dunbar McKenna and others, Matthew had lost two of his sons, Donald and Malcolm, so his two remaining sons, Ian and Cord, essentially took charge of the clan. There was another cousin from that generation, Robert, who had been Nathaniel Scott’s eldest son. Nathaniel had been the youngest brother of Thomas and Matthew, also killed in the massive clan war.
Clan Scott was no stranger to tension between clans.
Clan Scott was also a large clan, with the main branch located near Edinburgh. The Thomas Scott branch, a lesseroffshoot, was often referred to as the Langton Clan because of the enormous castle that sat near the Scottish border. Some even referred to it as the Nest of Adders, a not-so-subtle reference to the infighting but also to the Whiteadder River that ran next to the castle. But whatever it was called, it was a powerful branch of Clan Scott, allied with the most powerful English knight in Northumberland in William de Wolfe.
But there were those who were increasingly unhappy about the English relations.
Cord Scott, the youngest son of Matthew and younger brother to the current chief, was one of those. He’d always been a mild-mannered man and he had established his own relationship with his English cousins, but the man had two sons who were most decidedly not friendly with the English.
Argyle and Brendan Scott hated the English with a passion.
That was where the problems had been for quite some time. Argyle and Brendan had started within the clan a decidedly anti-English movement. They didn’t like the fact that they’d been allied with powerful English warlords because in the eyes of some of their allies, that lessened them as true Scots. That was at the heart of their issues– that they weren’t “true Scots” as some allied clans had suggested– and that had fed both their rage and indignity. No one was more Scottish than they were, as they bore the name of the country they lived in.
And they very much wanted to prove it.
It was an undercurrent in the clan that had been going on for several years, ever since Argyle and Brendan had grown old enough to be called men. Some of the older clan members thought they’d outgrow the rabble-rousing, the incitement they so often liked to do and tried to keep it secret, but it had only gotten worse as they’d gotten older. They’d become more clever about it, more subversive, but their faction in national pride was a growing issue.
When Annaleigh Scott had been assaulted, that had given them the opening they needed.
