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The man made no move toward a weapon and didn’t appear to be a threat.

“Travelling alone?” Alex asked. “A dangerous proposition.” It made him think of Clara, out there all alone, and he nearly turned his horse back around.

“I’ve little coin to steal,” he said, slowing as he caught up to them.

“Where are you headed?” Geoffrey asked.

“In search of a troubadour’s tale,” he answered.

Alex raised his brows and waited.

“Keston House,” the man replied. There was something kindly about him despite his size. “You?”

“To Elkview. And then Kenshire,” Geoffrey said.

The stranger nodded as if that made more sense to him. “You are lord there?” he guessed correctly.

“Sir Geoffrey Waryn, at your service. And this is my brother-in-law, the Scot.”

Alex laughed at that introduction. “Otherwise known, back in my country of heathens,” he joked, “as Alex Kerr of Clan Kerr.”

“Ahh, a border clan.”

“A borderer by birth and choice,” he said. “And home to you is?”

He hesitated and looked ahead. “I have a home no longer.”

A chill crept up Alex’s spine.

“What is your trade?” Geoffrey asked.

“An armorer.” The man shrugged. “Or I was once.”

An armorer. Without a home. Heading to Keston House.

It could not be possible. Gilbert was dead. And yet. . . Alex had felt a connection to this man from the start. Every hair on his body seemed to stand up.

Would he even give his name? Of course, it was Clara who was in hiding, not him.

“And what do you call yourself?” Alex asked, the humor from his voice gone.

The English armorer, now in front of him, looked back as if contemplating whether or not to give an answer. But he did.

“Gilbert, my lord.”

* * *

“You’re welcome here any time, my. . . Alfred.” Edgar was no more skilled than his wife when it came to keeping her secret.

“Many thanks,” Clara said. “I hope to see you again and pay for your charity in kind.”

Though the morning threatened rain, which had very nearly delayed her departure, the clouds outside had just begun to clear. The knight whom she’d hired would take her two days south, and from there, it would be up to her to find a way west toward the edge of the borderlands.

“I say yer makin’ a mistake,” Albri said, not for the first time. Refreshed and laden with enough food to feed Alex and all of his men, Clara was grateful for Albri’s care. But she didn’t agree with her about Alex, and they would have to part ways on those terms. Albri had spent every waking moment of the past several days attempting to change Clara’s mind, which reminded her a bit of Emma. Still, she would not be swayed. Gilbert had told her to trust no one. And while she wasn’t sorry to have broken that promise a wee bit at Kenshire, she had renewed her silent vow to him, one that had kept her alive for years.

“I know you believe so,” she said. They stood just inside the inn’s entrance, but Clara knew she was wanted outside. The knight waited on her. He was a frequent visitor to Keston, and Edgar and Albri had assured Clara of her safety with him. She couldn’t chance letting such a man leave without her.

She hugged the older couple, wishing she could stay but knowing it was not possible.