“This could be one changed detail,” I said finally. “Or it could be the first loose thread in something larger.”
“Yes.”
“And if it’s larger?—”
“Then we shall adjust.”
He said it calmly enough to make me want to throw something at him. Possibly the inkpot.
“You are alarmingly calm about this.”
“I am three score,” he said dryly. “At my age calmness is mostly exhaustion wearing respectable clothing.”
That startled a laugh out of me despite everything. One corner of his mouth moved faintly in satisfaction.
“Neither side wins cleanly. The Crown bleeds money. The charter survives in altered form. If individual moments shift, we adapt.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“It is not easy.” He folded one report carefully. “It is merely necessary.” He reached for Aldwin’s letter again, and something in his expression shifted.
The Baron’s emotions did not burst through the door waving banners. They looked through a crack in the wall, decided the weather was poor, and retreated. But I had learned to notice.
“What else?” I asked.
He looked at the parchment for another moment before answering.
“There is a message.”
“For Geoffrey?”
“For me.” A pause. “And a courtesy toward you.”
That made my spine straighten slightly.
The Baron adjusted the parchment in the candlelight. “The names on the second sheet are accurate. Lord Beaumont was not present at the engagement, which I believe significant. Lady Harper’s earlier warning regarding Sheppey was correct. I judged her unfairly in certain matters and would have you convey my respect, if you deem it proper.”
The Baron lowered the letter. Rain tapped softly against the windows.
“That is all?”
“For Aldwin,” the Baron said dryly, “this borders on emotional recklessness.”
I laughed despite myself.
“He apologized?”
“He acknowledged the existence of another person’s competence. We must not ask too much of him all at once.”
“That sounds dangerous for his health.”
“Extremely.”
The Baron folded the letter carefully. There was something unexpectedly moving in the restraint of it. Aldwin had not written to me directly. Of course he had not. Whatever existed between us now was understanding, not friendship, and he was far too aware of appearances to blur the distinction.
Especially now with Geoffrey away. The realization settled strangely in my chest. Not disappointment. Something steadier than that. Trust, perhaps.
Aldwin had finally stopped looking at me like a possible catastrophe wrapped in suspiciously modern footwear. Considering the circumstances, it was probably the closest thing we were ever going to achieve to friendship.
