Page 68 of Falling for the Knight

“He has no interest in ending the feud. I go to set terms for battle. Sutherland has already proven—”

“That he is capable of some restraint. He honored the treaty until now.”

Tristan’s eyes had narrowed, and he looked at her with a combination of shock and disdain. Though he seemed to respect her, he wasn’t showing much respect for her opinion in this. His hatred of the man had blinded him.

“He is a bastard, one intent on revenge for what happened ten years ago.”

“But have you or Lord Kenton even tried? Remember when I told you about that feud in my time—”

“Hannah, this is not your time,” he said, more harshly than she would have liked.

“I know very well it isn’t,” she said.

“As for the rest of it, I have a marshal to worry about our safety. And a steward to care for the castle. You need only—”

“Sit in my bedchamber learning to embroider?” She very nearly spat out the words.

“My lord,” Walter called, peering beyond the wall at them. “All is ready.”

“I will be but a moment,” Tristan said.

Though he looked curious—perhaps he’d heard her last words—Walter merely nodded to her and walked away. As soon as he was gone, Tristan turned back to her. “Hannah, I must go.”

He reached for her, but Hannah pulled away. It would do no good to pretend all was well. “Then go,” she said, knowing she was being cross.

He clearly didn’t want to leave. And truth be told, she didn’t want him to go like this either. But maybe it was for the best. In his own way, he seemed to agree with Kenton about how a woman should be treated—and where a woman’s place was. The home.

“If you’re worried for your safety,” he said, “do not be. Saxford has been heavily fortified in recent years.”

She was less concerned for her safety than she was for her pride, but Hannah remained quiet.

“Go,” she repeated.

And please come back safely so that I might give you a proper goodbye.

With a bow, Tristan left.

* * *

Tristan handedthe two hares he’d snared to one of his men, ignoring Walter’s disapproving glance. The marshal didn’t take the hint.

“How can I protect you, my lord, if you insist on leaving camp?”

“I can protect myself,” he insisted.

Walter’s indisposition came down to his fervent dislike of anything resembling diplomacy with Sutherland. Two of the Scotsman’s own men had ridden to the village to invite him to a meeting with their master. The chief knew, as he did, a new era would begin, one of constant battles and reiving on both sides of the border. He’d proposed the meeting so they could set the terms of their feud. Walter worried it was a trap, but Tristan did not. Sutherland, though a bastard, was an honorable one.

Their disagreement had put Walter in a foul mood, and his argument with Hannah had done the same for him. In all, it had been a miserable journey with the next day promising more of the same.

“We should have brought more than twenty men,” Walter grumbled, unhappy with the size of their retinue as well. Tristan looked around at their makeshift camp as the marshal continued to scowl at him.

“I thought you said we never should have come.”

The observation deepened his marshal’s scowl. Tristan glanced toward the fire, where John stood among the men. If it were not for his captain, Tristan might have been inclined to agree. And then, of course, there was Hannah.

He had not forgotten their talk. It had physically pained him to part from her that way, especially after the revelation about her sisters.

“Something else is wrong,” Walter said.