Page 48 of The Scot

“Only that you wish to court her?”

“Aye.”

“With the intent to possibly marry her?”

“Perhaps.”

“But you do not love her.”

He did not answer. Terric had loved once and was unsure if he could say the word aloud again. But he had been very wrong about Roysa, so wrong that the thought of never seeing her again prompted this decision.

“You’ve not spoken to her father.”

Terric tapped his toe, waiting for Lance to finish his barrage of questions.

“You’ve had only one mistress in all the years I’ve known you,” Lance said, leaning forward with his mug braced between his knees. “She is a fiery one, capable of helping you achieve great things. Of becoming the warrior you are today. Of making decisions bolder than most. But”—his eyes darkened—“she is trouble too. Even if you decide you no longer want or need her, she sometimes refuses to leave. Even after you think you’ve satisfied her. Because she’s become accustomed to your presence, as you have to hers.”

“Just state your meaning, Lance.”

“Her name, as you know well, is revenge. A rotten witch who will gladly curse you if you let her.”

Terric had heard this speech before.

Many, many times.

From all of them. Lance. Conrad. Even Guy.

They believed his hatred of King Henry ran so deep that nothing would ever please him but John’s complete demise. Conrad had pulled him aside at the last Tournament of the North, when they’d first formed the order. He’d feared Terric would not be content to tame the king, their ultimate goal.

He had assured Conrad that while it was true he’d dearly love to see the monarch’s head on a pike, he did not wish to end up with his own stuck next to him. Aye, he would be content to see King John’s power diluted. To see the barons take back some control. To see him answer for his family’s evils.

“She has been a constant companion,” he agreed. “But again, I thought we spoke of Roysa?”

The look Lance gave him indicated he thought Terric a child who had not yet grasped the ways of the world. The way he often looked at his brother.

“I can see you like her.”

“There’s much to like.”

“Desire her.”

He did not deny it. How could he?

“But would you really marry her, if the courtship was amicable?”

“I would not disrespect you, or Idalia, by dallying with her sister.”

“You are an honorable man, Terric. The most honorable among us.” He sat up straighter in his chair. “But is there room for love in your heart when your other mistress is so demanding of your attention?”

“After this battle—”

“There will be more. Even if he doesn’t attack, even if he does as we’ve asked, he will never, ever let us rest. We are the men who brought him to heel. How do you suppose he will treat us, his disloyal subjects?”

Terric knew his friend was right. If they were successful, they would feel the bite of wrath as long as John was their king.

Lance downed the remainder of his ale, saying nothing.

“I can have both.”

Lance shrugged. “Aye, a man can have a wife, and a mistress. But does it make for a happy marriage?”

“It seems we may find out.”