She loves me!
She wanted them to be together. Had even said she would turn her back on her fortune, if that was what it took.
Adam cared naught for the wealth of the de Nevilles. That a woman as vibrant as Esme wanted to weave her life into his was fortune enough. He started to hum with happiness as he reached the arched doorway and pushed the panel aside.
Inside was a chamber fit for royalty. Thick rugs covered the floor, with more piled high on the comfortable bed which was hung with emerald green drapes. The long, narrow window looked out toward the lake, upon which he could just about discern the majestic figures of the swans.
He closed his eyes, wondering if it was indeed all a dream.
A knock at the door broke his reverie. He opened it to find a golden-haired giant on the other side.
The man smiled, and instantly Adam saw his striking similarity to both Esme and Jonah.
“I am Tristan de Neville,” he said, his voice deep and resonant. “Welcome to Wolvesley.”
Adam took his hand, unable to help sizing up his obvious strength. The man’s muscles moved beneath his finely tailored tunic, though his stance was relaxed and easy.
“I am Adam Hawker.” He stepped aside to allow Esme’s brother inside.
“I know.” Tristan did not allow a beat to pass. “My wife, Mirrie, has sung your praises. And my sister seems equally smitten.” He put his hand on his narrow hips and looked at him shrewdly. “I thought I should make your acquaintance in private, without the distractions of music and food and company.”
Adam realized that he was also being sized up, by a knight whose reputation preceded him. He recalled the stories of Tristan that had reached as far as Kielder. His bravery and swordsmanship were the stuff of legend, but Adam had been most impressed by how hard he had worked for peace between England and Scotland.
He was a lord; heir to the Earl of Wolvesley. But he was also Esme’s brother. Adam’s head spun with indecision as to how he should address him.
He bowed his head. “I was fortunate to meet your wife when I first arrived here. Milord,” he added.
Tristan waved the words away, looking mildly irritated to hear his title. “And fortunate to have spent several days in the company of both Esme and Jonah.” He arched his eyebrows. “I believe you have grown especially close to my sister.”
Adam had not anticipated that the challenge would be laid out so quickly. He took a breath. “Lady Esme means a great deal to me.”
For a moment, Tristan’s blue gaze clashed with his. Adam fancied the secrets of his soul were laid bare, so piercing were his eyes. But then Tristan relaxed and let out a little laugh.
“I am glad to hear it. For she is well taken with you.”
“I am not certain I am worthy of her affection.” Adam stumbled over his words in his haste to declare them. “But if I am able, I will spend all the years I have left proving to her that she has chosen wisely.”
Tristan nodded, relaxing his weight against the window seat so that shadows fell across the chamber and veiled his face. “I understand the sentiment. It has been more than a year since my dear Mirrie consented to be my wife, and I still count it as a blessing, every day.”
Adam found himself inexplicably choked with emotion. He fixed his gaze upon a wooden blanket box until he could trust his voice. “Thank you.”
The man strode forward and clasped his arm. “Nay, do not thank me. ’Tis I who should thank you, for saving my sister from the base knave who is now languishing in the dungeon.”
Adam took in the gesture of kinship with a warm flush of relief, gripping Tristan’s arm in return. It was more than he had dared to hope that Esme’s eldest brother would share her down to earth sensibilities. But the thought of Crispin made him pause.
“What will happen to him?” he asked bluntly.
“If it were up to me, he would be horsewhipped,” Tristan replied, with equal directness, leaving Adam with no doubts as to his family loyalty. “But my father is a man of the law. As such, Crispin de Gough will be turned over to the king’s men. They arealready on their way here, ready to arrest him.” His head turned toward the window, as if listening out for approaching horses.
Adam nodded, slowly.
“If the man has any sense, he will beg forgiveness of his actions.” Tristan pursed his lips. “Do you think he has any sense?”
“Very little, that I could see.”
They shared a look, before Tristan gave him a bracing smile. “But let us not waste our time speaking of de Gough. This is a night for celebration. My manservant is bringing you some clothing as I understand Jonah gave you no time pack before leaving Ember Hall.”
Adam opened his mouth to protest Jonah’s innocence, but he closed it again, realizing Tristan was too polite to point out Adam would likely have nothing suitable to wear.
