“Where is she?”

Aidan ignored Douglas, who glared at him from the corner of the room. Theffield had deliberately kept them from speaking alone, so the warden knew only what the earl had told him—that unless Clan Scott confessed to hiding his daughter from him and revealed her whereabouts, they were at an impasse.

Knowing he risked raising the earl’s ire, Aidan nonetheless refused to give him what he desired.

“The same day you left Theffield Castle, after calling upon my good graces to assist you—”

“You were willing to do nothing more than stall our progress.”

Though he said the words, Aidan did not share Clarissa’s confidence that her father had never intended to help them. But it was the only move they had left, and so he would make it.

“How dare you question my honor,” the earl snarled.

Aidan did not back down. “How dare you accuse me of kidnapping your daughter.”

“Enough!”

Douglas had not become Lord Warden of the Scottish Marches by keeping quiet. Men feared him, but unlike Theffield, most respected him too.

“You’ve accused de Sowlis of hiding your daughter, and refuse to treat with us until he relents. I believe it’s time for you to explain yourself.”

Even the earl was not immune to Douglas’s powers of persuasion. Though the man clearly did not appreciate being given an order, he answered Douglas despite it.

“As you may have heard,” Theffield said, his eyes never leaving Aidan, “my daughter’s marriage to Lord Stanley was recently annulled.”

Though Aidan had known about the annulment, of course, hearing it said aloud gave Aidan nearly as much pleasure as reaching across the wooden table and punching the earl in the face would have. He’d thought of that punch, and the pleasure it would give him, from the moment he entered the keep. Only his memory of his father’s lecture on what it meant to be a guest in another’s home, even an enemy’s home, had given him the strength to restrain himself.

And, of course, Douglas. Aidan did value his own life, after all.

“She returned to Theffield but has since—” he cleared his throat, “—gone missing.”

Aidan could feel Douglas looking at him, but he did not meet the man’s gaze. Instead, he watched the earl as closely as if Clarissa’s life depended on it.

Because it very well might.

“And you believe de Sowlis to be involved?”

“I know he is,” Theffield insisted, but he blinked just before he made the bold accusation.

He was lying.

Theffield may think he was involved in Clarissa’s disappearance, but he did not know for certain.

“De Sowlis?”

He would rectify his sin later. But for now, lying to Douglas may very well be the difference between keeping, or losing, Theffield’s support.

“I had nothing to do with his daughter’s disappearance,” he said, his voice firm. Turning to the earl, he said, “Putting our tenuous alliance in jeopardy would not be in the best interest of my clan.”

Theffield’s eyes narrowed. The earl did not believe him.

“We shall see.”

And then the brute smiled.

Aidan thanked whichever saint had led Malcolm to reveal what he knew of Clarissa’s stay at Highgate End. For if he’d not admitted as much, she would still be there when Theffield’s men arrived to search the castle. Graeme could refuse them, of course, but doing so would not relieve the earl’s suspicion.

As if reading his thoughts, Theffield said, “My men are likely already discovering the truth, or mistruth, of your words.”

Just as he’d suspected. But Aidan played along with the Englishman who thought he was so damn clever. “Your men?”

Theffield stood so abruptly the chair nearly toppled behind him. “The men I have dispatched to Highgate End,” he declared triumphantly. “If they find her, I will have you arrested.”

“And when they do not?” Aidan asked, standing.

Theffield’s head twitched from him to Douglas and back.

You should be nervous, you traitorous—

“If your men do not discover what you believe they will find at Highgate End?” Douglas prompted, sounding like a human version of the wild boar from which his nickname was derived. The man even had an inn named after him.

Theffield’s jaw twitched before that same cruel smile spread across his face again. He was so certain of his victory.

“If Clan Scott is proven innocent,” he said, “then I shall order Caxton to relinquish his position as warden, providing the terms de Sowlis set forth still stand.”

“They do.” Douglas nodded—a courtesy he then undermined by walking from the room before the earl, an indication that he refused to defer to the man as a superior despite his title. “You will find us at the inn in your village,” he added, another slight against the earl.

Neither man spoke as they were escorted from the keep. Only after they’d mounted and ridden far beyond the outer walls, their men riding behind them, did the warden speak to him again. “And now, de Sowlis, I will have the truth.”

“The truth will have to wait.”

If Douglas hadn’t heard what he did—the distant pounding of horses’ hooves—Aidan would have been in for a blistering retort. Instead, Douglas held his hand in the air, summoning the other four men who accompanied him to surround their chief as he turned to face the threat. Without discussing it, Aidan rode to the front and Lawrence to the back.

And they waited.

He spotted the gold and red banners first. His shoulders relaxing, Aidan continued to grip the handle of his dirk just in case. As the horses came closer, it became clear they were, indeed, Theffield’s men. He turned to indicate as much to those behind him.

The man at the front of the group, Theffield’s sergeant in all likelihood, spotted them first. He slowed as Aidan counted nine mounted knights.

“Greetings,” he called, ignoring the look of contempt on the leader’s face.

“Scots” was his only answer.

The fact that they had accepted Clarissa so easily was a testament to her standing with Clan Scott. She was one of them now, and he’d made sure Lawrence knew the lass was under his protection.

These men, on the other hand, were decidedly not.

“My friend offers a kindly welcome,” Lawrence spat. “You could do the same.”

“Or perhaps your master has yet to teach you proper manners,” Douglas growled.

For a man who spent his days negotiating peace, his temper had not diminished a whit. Between him and Lawrence, they would be lucky to leave Theffield with their heads on their shoulders.

The sergeant drew his sword at Douglas’s words. Aidan took his own off his dagger and put both hands into the air. The last thing he wanted was for a war with Theffield to begin here, on the man’s own property.

“We are under the protection of your master,” Douglas said. “Allow us to pass and no further exchange is necessary.”

“And put down your sword while you do it,” Lawrence muttered, luckily not loud enough for anyone but Aidan to hear him.

Though he looked as if he wished to argue, Theffield’s sergeant finally lowered his sword. Looking at them as if they were not good enough to clean the mud from his horse’s hooves, his eyes narrowed.

Finally, he kicked the side of his mount so hard the beast let out a weary protest. Aidan didn’t wonder at the rough treatment. Most men emulated their leader, and theirs was the worst sort of bastard, a man who cared for nothing save himself.

Had he dared hope the distraction might make Douglas forget his question, the look the older man gave him as they once again rode away from Theffield Castle told him otherwise.

“I’ll have that explanation now, de Sowlis.”

Lawrence grinned at him and then rode ahead, leaving him alone with the warden.

Traitor.

“And likely that is why Theffield requested Derrickson.”

Grateful for the temporary reprieve, Aidan looked ahead toward his friend.

“We thought the request was yours.”

Douglas huffed. “This dispute between Clan Karyn and the Earl of Rockford does not

aid matters. I fear if we avoid war this time, their feud may throw us right back to where we started. Theffield knows that.”

And thought to instigate, to complicate the matter. He truly was the worst sort of bastard.

“Explain.”

So much for his reprieve. “I lied to Theffield,” he said, looking straight ahead. “Lady Clarissa is safe, though not at Highgate End, thankfully.”

He was rewarded with the exact response he’d expected.

“Do you aim to start a war, then?”

Aidan navigated an overgrowth of fireweed as he considered how to answer the man. As young men, both he and Graeme had been terrified of the clan chief, their father’s closest friend, even though they’d known him since childhood. As a grown man and warrior, Aidan would like to think he was less intimidated by the man, but the truth was, the king had made an excellent choice when he’d chosen Douglas as Lord Warden.

“Nay, not apurpose.”

He did look at Douglas then. “When she appealed to Lawrence and me to help her escape her father—”

“The man who holds full jurisdiction over her—”

“Held. She is now under the protection of Clan Scott.”

Douglas would kill him yet.

“At the time, the annulment had not yet been granted. I planned to leave her at Sutworth, where the lady could appeal to Dunburg Abbey—”

“A nun?” he growled. “She cannot—”

“She has the gold necessary,” he said, but before Douglas could respond, he added, “but Dunburg lost their benefactor. And so she had nowhere to go—”

“With the exception of Theffield Castle?”

Douglas was angry, and Aidan didn’t blame him. The situation was less than ideal for any of them.

“Her father is a traitorous bastard who—”

“Is her father.”

Aidan had no choice now. He took a deep breath, slowed his mount to a stop, and waited for Douglas to do the same. As the men behind them followed suit, Aidan attempted to keep himself as steady as possible so Douglas could look him in the eye and understand his position.

“And I will be her husband.”

The decision was made. Had been made well before today. Clarissa might be willing to sacrifice herself for a perceived greater good, but he refused to let her. He would not abandon the woman he loved. Ever again.

“Goddammit, de Sowlis. Do you understand what you’ve done?”

“Aye, sire. I understand it well. I’ve fallen in love with a woman who has endured shameful mistreatment from not one but two men who put their greed and selfish desires above her well-being. I understand that by doing so, I’ve put my family, my clan, and our allies in jeopardy. And were my father with us now—” he prayed his father was watching, and listening, because God knew Aidan needed every bit of support he could muster, “—he would curse me for a fool. But he would also honor the pledge I’ve made. A pledge my brother, the chief of our clan, has seconded.”

Aidan could not make his position clearer. Clan Scott would not waver in this. She was as good as one of them, if not yet in name.

“Where is she?”

Lawrence, who had ridden back to join them, spoke up. “With my family.”

He could have said she was at Bowden Castle. But he had not. Aidan tried not to smile at his friend’s choice of words, which had effectively declared Clan Karyn’s position on the matter.

Douglas looked between the men, his cheeks red, and then indicated they should keep moving. He didn’t speak for a time. And though doubt attempted to creep into his mind, Aidan stopped it. The decision had been made. Mayhap he’d been foolish, but his father had taught them another lesson, one he’d taken to heart.

Doubt was a poison that would eat away at you until none of your convictions remained.

“Theffield will kill you when he finds out what you’ve done,” Douglas said finally.

“He is welcome to try. As long as he does so after the new English warden has been chosen.”

Either way, the outcome would be decided soon enough.