Page 67 of Falling for the Knight

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Hannah had to seek news of her sisters.

Unfortunately, she hardly had a chance to discuss the matter with Tristan. Mere moments after they’d learned her sisters had come through the falls, Tristan had been informed of an attack.

Sutherland had made good on his threats, and worse, new rumors warned of an imminent attack on the village. Tristan had left, telling her he would return the next night. When the following evening came and went, Hannah began to worry. Had something happened to him? Why would he stay in the village, without protection, rather than behind the walls of the castle where it was safe?

The preparations had taken on a furious pace, leaving Hannah to twiddle her thumbs in the meantime. She’d learned from Gerard that no one was to leave the castle walls. It felt as if danger lurked on every side.

She had just decided to see if Cook needed help when she heard a familiar voice addressing her. “There you are.”

Turning, Hannah’s heart lurched at the sight of him. This was neither a bawd’s son nor an armorer’s apprentice. He may have been both, once, but the man who stood in front of her now was an English lord from head to foot . . . a medieval knight if she’d ever seen one. He wore a surcoat of green and gold, Saxford colors, his sword hanging so casually by his side that Hannah could almost forget it was a weapon in truth and not a showpiece.

The sun shone behind him, and Hannah had to hold up her hand to shield her eyes. She had not seen him since the day they’d learned about the legend of the falls.

“I came to tell you that I’m leaving,” he said. This man, the lord, had no extra words or loving whispers for her today. He was all business.

“Oh,” she said. Despite how much she’d longed to speak with him, to discuss the scouts’ findings with him, words suddenly failed her.

“The latest rumors proved false . . . all is well. For now. But I cannot stay here and wait for the next threat to come from Sutherland. He’s agreed to a meeting, and I ride out immediately.”

He reached out then and grabbed her by the arm, the movement so sudden Hannah hardly had time to react before he moved them to an opening between the main keep and the eastern wall of the kitchen.

“We have not had a chance to talk—”

“You have more important matters to address,” she said, knowing it was true but wanting to speak about what had happened anyway.

“You are important,” he said, and Hannah’s heart soared. “As soon as this is over, we will travel to Edinburgh ourselves,” he said. “We will find your sisters.”

“Tristan,” she began, “I don’t know what’s happening. You left so quickly, and Gerard . . .” She shrugged. “He doesn’t tell me much.”

“What do you want to know?” To his credit, Tristan looked genuinely confused.

“I want to know what is happening. Why you were gone for two nights? What is Sutherland planning and how are you going to counter him? I want to know if we’re safe. If I were to consider staying . . .

His eyes widened.

“I need to know. Everything.”

Tristan took her hands, engulfing them with his own. “If your sisters are truly here . . .”

He didn’t finish, and Hannah understood what he meant. He thought she would find a way to leave with them. She couldn’t say it aloud herself, but she’d thought of little else. She’d even made up a mental pros and cons list—reasons to stay or go.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Everything is so different now.”

When he squeezed her hands, all of her “reasons to go” list fell by the wayside. Medicine, refrigeration, beer that actually tasted like beer . . . none of it mattered.

Except for one problem, something that had stood out to her these last lonely days.

“Things are different in your time, relationships are different. If we were together in the twenty-first century, I would know as much as you do about this truce and the implications of it falling apart. We’d have discussed it, and possible solutions, including the most obvious one.”

The poor guy looked as confused as ever.

“Peace,” she said. “You haven’t once mentioned the possibility of forming a peace accord with Sutherland. Of ending this feud—”

“Ending it?” Tristan’s laugh was forced. Bitter.

He dropped her hands.