“And you must not roar if she has impulsively surrendered more than she should have done.”
His eyes glittered at the very possibility. “Nay, she would not.”
Aileen shook her head and smiled. “You know her. You know she follows her heart wherever it leads. And in the matter of love, my beloved, it may lead to her chamber.”
The Hawk frowned. “Then he must be worthy of her. He must have a holding and…”
Again, Aileen put her fingertip across his lips. “And if he does not but is otherwise worthy, we will give him one.”
The Hawk studied her, his gaze flickering. “Abernye,” he whispered.
“You said the choice was mine,” Aileen reminded him. “Gawain and Avery are yet too young and if this grants Evangeline the opportunity for happiness, I would grant it to her willingly.”
The Hawk smiled slowly as he stared down at her. “You are generous, lady mine.”
“Perhaps not. Abernye may be no more than a wasteland by now.”
He chuckled. “I suspect that would not hinder either of them, if you speak aright. There is some suggestion that he has been successful at tournament in Normandy and has amassed some funds.”
“He will need it if Abernye has faded as much as I fear.”
Her spouse sighed, but it was a sound of contentment not exasperation. “And I shall endeavor to match your generosity, in declining to judge Ramsay MacLaren before he can speak for himself and his intentions.” He lifted a brow, inviting her reply. “Fair enough?”
“More than fair, and you know it well,” she replied, relieved to have their course established. “And so we ride to Dunhaven, but aware of events awaiting us?”
The Hawk rolled back, considering the ceiling. “My impulse is to ride to Kinfairlie. Ahearn and Alexander have ridden to Dunhaven, along with Evangeline’s champion. All may be resolved before we can reach that hall.”
“But what if it is not?”
He smiled at her. “If she has chosen a worthy champion, he must triumph over such wickedness.”
“Would you not like to witness that victory?”
The Hawk grinned. “Aye, I would. But if Evangeline is to wed, she will not do as much at Dunhaven, not at the holding of the man who strove to injure her.”
“Kinfairlie’s chapel will be ideal,” Aileen said with delight. “To Dunhaven and perhaps thence to Kinfairlie. Now we are resolved.”
“And with time yet permitting for a celebration?” the Hawk asked, a predictable gleam in his eyes.
“I should be disappointed if there was not to be one,” Aileen said, then laughed as he swooped down to claim a kiss that was not destined to end soon.
* * *
Ramsay pushedFoudre on the journey south, fearing with every step that he would arrive too late for Evangeline. His surety of Rufus’ choices faded as he rode, his thoughts filling with dire possibilities that granted him no reprieve. Hugues rode behind him silently, the boy’s exhaustion clear in the dark shadows beneath his eyes. Ramsay did not doubt that he bore the same sign, but he dared not halt. He also did not dare to take the road for fear of encountering Rufus, so took a long circuitous route through less occupied areas.
’Twas nigh midnight on the fourth day when he approached Dunhaven from the forest to the west, his heart in his throat. To his relief, no pennant fluttered from the high tower, a sure sign that Rufus was not in residence.
To his further relief, a large round tent had been raised in the meadow, one of striped red and white silk. ’Twas familiar and he recalled his aunt’s assertion about Evangeline’s nuptials. Ramsay scarce dared believe he could be so fortunate, but he left Hugues hidden in the forests and crept closer.
When he found the wyvern rampant of Haynesdale displayed near the entrance to the tent, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He heard a step behind himself and spun to find two sentries there, one brandishing a knife. The men wore Haynesdale’s colors of red and white, chain mail hauberks that fell to their knees and helmets. They were large and burly, as well as more heavily armed than Ramsay.
Ramsay smiled and bowed. “Sir Ramsay MacLaren,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Come in secret to consult with Lady Elizabeth and Lord Stephen.” He touched a fingertip to his lips and one guard pushed back his visor to scrutinize him.
“TheRamsay MacLaren,” he said with a measure of awe.
“At your lord and lady’s service,” Ramsay replied.
