Page 16 of To Love

Gareth grinned. “Darien has just finished our lesson but wishes for a few more passes.”

Alden and Roland exchanged a glance. Alden put his hands in the air. “Not I.”

Roland’s shoulders fell in defeat. Glaring at Gareth as if it were his fault their friend wished to joust, he stomped away as if he were a young boy who was told he could not keep a dog that had been found astray.

“Darien hates the joust,” Alden said when Roland left.

“Aye, and could use the riding drills. Besides, I wished to speak with you alone.”

Alden had assumed it was Gareth’s true purpose for sending Roland away.

“I’d have come to you last eve,” Alden said, “but did not wish to disturb you and Evelina.”

“No matter. I’ve agreed not to pursue the matter, as have the others, leaving it to Lady Elara.”

“Surely we can speak to each other about it?”

“Perhaps, though we must be discreet.”

“Do you have any thoughts on who it might be?”

“None,” Gareth admitted. “But I’ve no doubt in Elara’s abilities to uncover the truth. Will the damage be done already, though?”

“I worry for Roland, especially. He has the most to lose.”

Of the four of them, in any case. There were many here who stood to lose as much, or more, as their friend if the order or its members were discovered.

“As do I. They were so careful in recruiting us. How could such a thing have happened?”

“I do not know, but am determined to find out.”

“How will you meet with her without the others noticing?”

Alden gave Gareth a sideways glance. “There is a secret passageway to her chamber. We will meet each night after the meal.”

Smiling, Gareth whistled.

“Do not,” Alden warned him.

“I hope you do not plan to conceal such a fact from the others? They will know before long.”

“We are prepared for that eventuality.”

Gareth laughed aloud then. “Does she have any notion of your feelings toward her? ’Tis the height of irony, is it not?”

“Nay. And aye, but I do not need you to point out the fact as we’ve more serious matters at hand.”

“Including”—Gareth nodded toward the entrance to their training field—“the very woman in question who comes toward us. And she does not look pleased.”

Alden spied her at the same time as Gareth. It was difficult to miss the sight of Lady Elara in a deep green gown, its gold threaded embellishments glimmering in the midday sun.

“Nay,” he agreed, begrudgingly. “She does not.”

Chapter

Eight

Aside from the brief moment she’d seen Alden on the training field after exchanging words with Stirling, Elara had not spoken to her confidant yet. Having avoided the other instructors, vowing not to draw any more suspicion after she’d dismissed the guard and her maid, Elara instead had locked herself in the steward’s chambers with the inventory records.