Page 26 of To Protect

Elara’s brows lifted. Amalia said no more and hoped the lady dropped the matter.

“I would not presume to advise you, as we do not know each other, unless you’d be open to a small suggestion?”

Amalia had a notion of what that suggestion might be, but agreed nonetheless.

“I would, of course.”

“Tread carefully with that one. I know the family well. His father and mine were close once, before the conflict.”

“He is still alive? Your father?” That he was not here at Castle Blackwood had led Amalia to believe otherwise.

“He is, though I cannot say much more. He works, as I do, to restore the rightful queen to the throne.”

Since Amalia did not want to pry on what was obviously a sensitive topic, she shifted back to Roland. “You mentioned to be careful?” she ventured, unsure what to ask.

“He has been betrothed to the daughter of a very powerful man, one whose property borders de Vere’s, for many years. If the earl does not disavow Sir Roland for his role here, if he learns of it, certainly he would if he broke that betrothal. And from your expression, I can ascertain he’s not told you of the match.”

No, he had not.

“Roland mentioned no betrothal,” Amalia said, her chest tight in a way it should not be. He was nothing to her. They’d but shared one kiss. Or two, if the first counted as such. Even so, she’d known last eve naught could come of them. So why did this information matter? Why did it feel like a betrayal?

Lady Elara appeared concerned, as if she truly was attempting to aid Amalia. “I know not how his surcoat came into your possession, nor do I need to. But knowing de Vere, and his reputation . . . I hope you take no offense to my interference.”

Amalia rushed to explain. “I was not with him in that way. He escorted me to the market yesterday, on Sir Eamon’s request, and . . . ” She stopped.

“You need not explain to me.”

“I would do so anyway,” Amalia said, “as I’ve no others here . . . ” Again, she paused. Lady Elara was not her equal, nor should she be gossiping with her in this way. “’Tis nothing,” she said. “Thank you for the warning.”

“Amalia, please do call me by my given name. And share anything you wish to. You’ve my vow I will not repeat your words. I’ve no female friends here, no maid. I would be glad for you to speak freely.”

The relief at her words, that Amalia had not overstepped . . . that she had a confidant here . . . “After the market,” she continued, “we sat together for a time, watching the stars, sharing stories. He laid his surcoat”—she pointed to the garment—“for me to sit upon. And I will admit, knowing it could lead nowhere, when he wagered a kiss—”

“He wagered a kiss?”

“He did. And I lost. But his kiss was brief and barely discernible. I will admit to being disappointed, and when he learned this was not the first kiss I’ve had from a man, he kissed me again. The second time was much, much different from the first.”

“So just a kiss?”

Amalia nodded.

“I am glad to hear it. Roland has quite the reputation, and I would not care to see you hurt. Sir Eamon likes you very much. He said your loyalty to”—she lowered her voice—“his daughter has been unwavering.”

“He’s told you, then?”

“Aye. He is also an acquaintance of my father’s. It was Sir Eamon who brought me here, my father all too happy to see me safe in one place, for once.”

“We were so surprised to learn Sir Eamon was Evelina’s true father, but it did explain some of Lord Ashcroft’s poor treatment of her.”

“Treatment she did not deserve.”

“Nay,” Amalia agreed. “She did not.”

“Nor do you deserve a man who can never marry you. Unless, of course, marriage does not interest you. I do not mean to judge you in any way and hope I’ve not offended you.”

“’Tis true I have more freedom as a maid, but I’ve no desire to use that freedom to be with a man whose intentions are not pure. So nay, you do not insult me. I thank you for the warning, my lady.”

“Elara,” she reminded her.