*
Anna did not welcome Father Ignatius’ suggestion, but she feared he was right. She emerged from the forest, having realized only when he spoke of her that both men knew of her presence. Bartholomew studied her, but she could not guess his thoughts.
Was he irked with her for sharing his tale?
She was irked with him for denying his responsibility.
But all the same, she knew that if he had leapt to his feet and set off to kill Royce, them claimed Haynesdale without regard for another, she would have thought less of him.
She took the seat abandoned by the priest and watched that man stride back to the others, his confidence that he had done aright more than clear. She did not know how to begin, for she could not simply blurt out her confession. She took a breath. “I have never seen you so irked as you were before the company.”
Bartholomew shrugged. “I felt there was cause.”
“Because I challenged you?”
“And not for the first time,” he noted. “But not simply that.” He fell silent, frowning as he worked the snow into his boots.
“What then?”
He exhaled noisily. “I had a plan. I intended to ride through Haynesdale and ascertain its state. I wished to see if it had a baron who treated the villeins well. I wished to see if all were as it should be.”
“Or better, find cause to challenge any baron.”
“Perhaps so. Either way, my plan was soon shredded by a pair of thieves.”
Anna bit her lip.
“We were robbed, as you well know, and in retrieving our possessions and the captured thief, Duncan was captured in Percy’s stead. Now my companion is wounded, the reliquary is yet lost, my steed and squire have ridden on with my fellows, I have made a vow that I dare not break yet will demand I act ignobly—”
“What is this?” Anna asked, but he did not pause for breath.
“Worst of all, I find myself falling in love with the most vexing maiden I have ever met in all my days, and there is naught I can do about it.”
Anna found herself blushing as she had no doubt who that maiden might be. “Naught?”
He cast her a simmering glance. “Naught honorable. Indeed, I have already taken too much from her, because the matter remains that if ever I manage to plead my case before the king, even if I have the coin for the escheat, he will likely desire to ensure my loyalty.”
“By naming your bride.”
Bartholomew nodded, then turned his attention to the other boot. “And she will not be a smith’s daughter. She will be the daughter or the widow of a man already allied strongly to the king.”
They sat in silence for a long moment. “What vexes you most?” Anna asked finally. When he glanced at her, she smiled, hoping to improve his mood. “It is an impressive list for its length.”
Bartholomew’s smile came slowly, as if summoned against his will. “The maiden,” he said. “Definitely, the maiden.”
“Because she is vexing?”
He turned to look at her, wonder in his eyes. “Because she is bold and fearless, because she challenges me and she confounds me, because she is alluring and because she is like no other maiden I have ever known.”
Anna found her cheeks burning. “She is not truly a maiden,” she said and his expression turned rueful.
“Yet she has such an honesty about her that I shall always think of her as one.” He glanced at her. “No matter the state of her innocence.”
Heat flared in Anna’s heart and she realized that she loved Bartholomew as well. She would not confess as much, though, for she saw that he was already conflicted about his path.
She gripped his hand and appealed to him anew. “You cannot surrender the quest for Haynesdale. Royce is not a good baron, and I will tell you why.”
“Father Ignatius said you had reason he should die.”
