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Aidan was sure he could not manage to eat in the presence of this man, so he would have it no other way.

“We did not expect otherwise,” he said, the barb hitting its mark.

With a scowl at them both, Theffield turned them over to the same man who’d escorted them into the hall.

“Good day,” he said, clearly not meaning the words.

“And to you, my lord,” Lawrence said, catching Aidan by surprise. His friend was rarely this gracious to someone so lacking in manners. Then again, it appeared they were on the cusp of an agreement. The smart thing to do would be to pacify Theffield.

Saying his own farewell, Aidan was about to step back through the ridiculously large door leading outside when he saw a flash of bright yellow, unmistakable for its contrast to the darkness that otherwise consumed the hall. The person who’d distracted the earl in his solar.

Ignoring the movement, and Theffield’s reaction to it, Aidan stepped outside and back into the sunlight. But he couldn’t help but wonder who lurked in the shadows of the hall? And why did the hair on his arms suddenly stand up straight, as if . . .

Nay. It could not be.

Chapter 4

At first, Clarissa couldn’t breathe. When Eda had told her Aidan de Sowlis was in her father’s solar in Theffield, she had not believed it. To say his presence was unexpected would be too mild. It was as shocking as it would be to wake up to a loving smile from her father. Besides which, Eda had never actually met Aidan. Though she’d been at Sutworth Manor when Aidan visited with his brother and father, she’d taken ill that morn and had only heard of the incident from Clarissa herself.

Poor Eda used to lament how many times she’d been forced to listen to the tale of the two handsome Scotsmen. In particular, Clarissa had talked about the younger son, the one who’d looked at her with a mixture of awe and pity. The one she’d continued staring at from afar after she was reprimanded for being in the hall despite having been ordered to stay away from visitors.

And, of course, Eda had not been present at the tournament. It was a wonder Clarissa had been allowed to attend. No amount of begging ever convinced her father to relent, but that time, a stroke of pure luck—or perhaps fickle fate—had sent her uncle and cousin to Theffield just before the tournament. Her cousin, the eldest son of her father’s only brother, did the begging for her. When her father agreed to allow her to accompany them, Clarissa had never been so happy in her life.

Nay, that was not true.

Her happiest day came later in the week when she shared her first kiss with the man who had haunted her dreams for years after his visit to Theffield.

Careful not to be seen by her father, Clarissa peered inside her father’s solar. Despite the danger of being caught, she hadn’t been able to stay away. She bit back a gasp. Though she could only see the back of his head, it was enough to know it was indeed Aidan de Sowlis. She’d recognize him anywhere.

But why was he here? And who was he with? She couldn’t discern whether it was Aidan’s brother, but she was not daft enough to remain in the doorway and risk getting caught by her father. Instead, she fled to her bedchamber, looking for Eda along the way, but the maid was nowhere to be found.

Perhaps it was better this way. If Eda knew what she was planning, the maid would be forced to lie when asked about her whereabouts. This way, Eda would be telling the truth. Though she knew the abbey was Clarissa’s intended destination, by way of Sutworth, she didn’t know anything about her escape plan.

Without time to do more than gather a sack with a few garments stuffed inside, Clarissa walked as quickly as possible without garnering undue attention, finally exiting a side door that led to the inner bailey. There were very few loyal to her father, but those who were would not hesitate to tell him his daughter had been sneaking around the castle clutching a satchel to her chest.

With her heart hammering at the thought of what she was about to do, Clarissa avoided notice as best she could and waited. Of all her foolhardy plans, this was by far the riskiest. If her father caught her attempting to leave with the Scotsman . . .

But what worried her most was Aidan’s reaction.

Clarissa managed to make her way to the outer bailey without raising suspicion. However, assuming Aidan did agree to escort her to Sutworth Manor, she could not simply ride out through the main gatehouse with him and his companion. At least not without risking that her father’s men would recognize her and drag her back inside. Thankfully, this April day was cool enough to warrant a hooded cape, which she’d managed to secure before leaving. Slipping it on and tugging the hood as low on her face as possible, Clarissa waited in a small alcove along the inner curtain wall.

Only an empty, grassy courtyard, a gatehouse full of watchmen, and the man she’d once spurned stood between her and freedom.

Or temporary freedom, at least.

Even if she did manage to reach Sutworth, so much could still go wrong. Just one member of the household with enough loyalty to her father would alert him to her presence at Sutworth. And there was still the matter of getting to Dunburg Abbey. One did not simply arrive at an abbey and ask to be offered admission. Though she carried with her enough jewelry to offer as a dowry, she would still need to find a sponsor. Ideally, the sponsor would be her father, but he had no idea she’d been cast aside by her husband, let alone that she planned to join the order of Benedictine nuns at Dunburg. Nor would he ever allow it. Father Patrick, Sutworth’s kindly priest, would be the man to decide her fate.

When Clarissa thought of all that could go wrong, she began to worry. But she’d needed a miracle for her plan to work, and it would seem she had one. Best that she take advantage of it.

Unfortunately, as the Scotsman and his companion rode through the inner gatehouse, fierce and foreboding, they looked less like angels than they did the devil’s henchman. As they rode toward her position, followed at a short distance by their men, Clarissa nearly changed her mind. This was madness. After everything that had passed between them, it was unthinkable to ask a favor of him. One that might put him in a great deal of danger.

But she had no choice.

As the hoofbeats thundered closer, Clarissa clutched her satchel, using the material gathered between her fingers to steady her shaking hands. Staring in shock—his hair was much shorter but still curled in waves atop his head—Clarissa moved as if her feet were stuck in the mud beneath them. Slowly making her way to a position that would force them to stop, she released her grip on the satchel with one hand and raised it into the air.

Just as she’d planned, the men slowed, and then stopped, their mounts in front of her. She had precious little time, the risk of being recognized by her father’s people very real. Watching as his eyes widened in recognition, Clarissa was brought back to the second time they’d seen each other. He’d caught her staring at him on the jousting field. Embarrassed, she had looked away. Only when he’d later rode up to the stands to ask for her favor had Clarissa allowed herself another glance.

That time, his square jaw and kindly smile had taken her breath away. But he was certainly not smiling now. Quite the opposite, in fact. Aidan de Sowlis looked at her as if she were the last person in the world he wanted to be looking at. Lifting her chin and attempting to keep her voice from quavering, she spoke quickly.