Elena gasped outright.
“Nae,” Isabel whispered.
“Aye,” Liam confirmed.
Isabel threw up her hands. “Then why all this fuss—”
“Because ofhowit was done,” Liam cut in, his voice firm now. “There were ways to bring this to an end without exposing her to scrutiny or humiliating Thomas outright—ways that would have preserved dignity and the alliances we came here to secure.”
Liam exhaled slowly and pushed himself to his feet. “Hamilton asked for the night to consider,” he said. “By the morrow, we’ll ken his answer—and give our own if his is nae to my liking.” His gaze returned to Elena, steady rather than stern. “Until then, it would be best if ye took your supper in yer chamber. Let the hall cool and the tongues still themselves.”
Elena nodded at once, relieved not to be forced to show herself.
Chapter Sixteen
He stood with Alexander and Michael near the edge of the yard, tuning them out as their voices rose and fell over the merits of different sword grips. Alexander insisted the pommel should rest against the heel of the palm, while Michael demonstrated with exaggerated movements how his way allowed for quicker strikes.
“You’re gripping it wrong,” Alexander declared, voice already hoarse. He yanked the hilt from Michael’s hands and demonstrated, knuckles white, the pommel braced firmly against the meat of his palm. “If ye’re loose with it, ye’ll get disarmed every time.”
Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes in a way that suggested he’d been born to disagree with anything Alexander said. “If ye hold it like that, yer wrist will snap first blow. Ye want to keep it quick—” He snatched the sword back, flicked the tip up, and executed a short, tight circle. “See? I’d gut ye before ye even noticed I’d moved.”
Jacob knelt beside his dappled gray, working a small stone free from the beast's front hoof with the point of his dirk, when Alexander lost interest in the debate and pointed away from them.
“Look there,” he said, chin tipping toward the far side of the green.
Jacob’s gaze followed idly. At first, he saw nothing but the shimmer of heat over the grass, the pale green flush of new spring, and the walls of Wolvesly gray and bright against the morning. But then—beyond the stables, just at the joining of wall and orchard—he caught sight of her: Elena. She stood with her back to the house, her hair unbound and black as night, loose to her waist. She wore her traveling dress—plain, the color of undyed linen, but made lovely by her. She laughed, head tipped back, and the sound of it carried across the distance like a thrown stone skipping over water.
There was a lad with her, a stranger to Jacob, but by the look of his build and cut of his hair, likely a village lad or servant’s son. The boy leaned in, gesturing with a sort of nervous energy, all awkward elbows and fidgeting hands. He was plainly besotted, and even from across the yard Jacob could read the pleading in his posture.
“Who’s that?” Jacob asked, his tone as neutral as he could make it.
Michael snorted. “Blacksmith’s son,” he said, as though that explained everything. “Da hired him on last winter. Thinks he’s clever, but he’s soft as cheese.”
Alexander grinned. “Follows Elena round like a lost pup.”
Jacob braced himself against a flicker of something sharp and mean in his chest, a sensation he recognized and despised. He watched as the lad said something that earned a smile from Elena, quick and genuine, and then watched her step away, just far enough to keep the boy at bay without making him feel the bite of it.
“He’s wasting his time,” Alexander said, losing interest in the pair. “Elena’s made for better than that. Da’s always said so.”
Jacob squinted against the sun, staring at the pair. “Better how?”
Alexander frowned, as if the answer should be known. “She’s to be married off—to some lord’s son, nae less than a baron. Da wants southern ties, and she’s the only thing worth trading.” He said it with the casual certainty of someone who’d never had to imagine his own life being bartered for a herd of sheep or a single sack of gold.
Michael nodded, matter-of-fact. “Aye. She’ll be gone to market before next spring, ye wait.”
