She should be happy.

In fact, Clarissa should be elated. For once, everything had fallen into place. Not only had she miraculously found an escort to Sutworth, but upon her arrival, she’d been treated better than she ever had in her life. Word of her presence had spread quickly, and she’d been given a joyous welcome. If they were surprised she’d arrived alone, none of them treated her as such. Rather, Clarissa had been fed and then shown to the beautiful chamber where she now sat.

Best of all, Father Patrick had agreed to help her.

She’d sought him out yesterday afternoon and asked to speak with him privately. Clarissa had always liked the portly man who smiled at everyone. Something about him had assured her that he would help, but even so, she’d woken up this morning expecting to find her world crashing down around her. Would her father somehow know where she’d gone? Would Father Patrick betray her confidence and send word to Theffield that his errant daughter was in hiding here at Sutworth? Instead, the priest had sought her out after morning mass with the happy news that all was being prepared.

He’d sent a missive to Dunburg Abbey requesting an audience. It was a formality, he assured her. The nuns would not turn away badly needed gold, nor a nobly born woman prepared to take her vows. In a few days’ time, he would accompany her to Dunburg, where she would live out the remainder of her days.

“You can remain there, under their protection, until the annulment is official,” he’d said. As to how they would know it had been made official, how long such a thing would take, and more importantly, if her father could arrive and drag her back to Theffield in the meantime . . . she still had many questions. Father Patrick admitted he did not have all of the answers, but once the nuns accepted her, he’d told her, she would indeed be safe, even from her father’s meddling. He could not forcibly remove her from Dunburg without serious repercussions.

All had gone remarkably well, and yet . . .

Aidan.

She’d never thought to see him again.

Even though he’d changed, those changes had all been on the surface. The bedrock of Aidan de Sowlis was still very much intact. Clarissa closed her eyes, attempting to clear her mind of memories it would not serve her well to dwell upon. Aidan de Sowlis was part of her past, not her future.

“My lady, may I come in?”

“Of course.” She nodded, waving her hand to indicate the maidservant was welcome. When she entered, Clarissa nearly gasped. The woman’s hair was a remarkable mass of bright red curls.

“I was told you may need assistance?”

Clarissa realized she was being quite rude. Jumping from the bed, she greeted the newcomer.

“Aye, thank you. What is your name?”

“Kirstine, my lady.”

She was perhaps ten and nine, and obviously new to Sutworth. Though Clarissa had not visited for some years, no one who looked like the maid would have escaped her notice.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

Kirstine’s capable hands did not pause. She removed the items of clothing from Clarissa’s bag and shook them out, one by one.

“Nay, my lady. I was born and raised in Barrington. When both of my parents died, I found work at the Anvil Inn. Master McConnell bade me come here, and I’ve been serving Sutworth since the last harvest.”

McConnell was Sutworth’s steward. Though her father did not care for the man, Clarissa liked him immensely.

“I’m sorry to hear of your parents,” she said, taking advantage of the lilac-scented water Kirstine had brought. Dipping a small white cloth into the bowl, she began by washing her face and then moved to her neck.

“Thank you, my lady.”

“Tell me of Sutworth. My father does not deign to visit often, so my knowledge of this magnificent place is sorely lacking.”

Kirstine cocked her head to the side. “When were you here last?”

Clarissa tried to remember, but the days ran together, each more miserable than the last. With the exception of the tournament, and her journey here, so few of them had been filled with joy that Clarissa had stopped paying attention to the passing of time.

“Many years go,” she said vaguely. “But I am glad to be here now.”

When Kirstine looked at her this time, it was as if the other woman could see through her. It was not an unkindly gaze, but it made her feel uncomfortable nonetheless.

“Yet you are not staying.”

Clarissa froze. The maid knew something.

“What do you—”

“I am sorry, my lady,” she rushed to answer. “I’d been ordered to clean Father’s chamber, and when you entered . . . I did not know what to do. I did not mean to listen, but you began speaking and . . .”

The maid hung her head.

“You were there. You heard everything.”

It was not a question. Clarissa could feel her own heart pounding inside her chest. If word spread of her true intentions . . .

“I am so sorry, my lady. As I said, I did not mean—”

It struck Clarissa that the woman likely feared for her position. Clarissa’s father was notoriously unforgiving of the smallest errors in judgment.

“Shhh,” she said, willing the maid to look at her. She crossed the room and placed a hand on Kirstine’s shoulder. “I understand.”

The woman’s tear-filled eyes confirmed her suspicion. Her father, who rarely came to Sutworth Manor, had sufficiently terrified the staff.

“I am not my father,” she said simply.

Kirstine seemed to understand. She swallowed. “I am so very—”

“Sorry, I know.” Clarissa removed her hand. “Please . . . please do not tell anyone of my plans. If the wrong person learns of them—”

“You fear him too?”

Clarissa did not have to ask of whom she spoke.

“Aye.”

Kirstine wiped her eyes with her thumb. “I’ve never even met the man.”

Clarissa hoped she never would. “So you can understand my need to keep my intentions a secret?”

Kirstine nodded. “But do you truly believe this is the only way? You are prepared to give your life to God?”

Prepared? Nay. No nun should react to a man with the fluttering sense of anticipation she felt toward Aidan. But she had no other choice. Clarissa refused to be married to another man like Lord Stanley.

“There is no other way.”

Kirstine frowned, evidently agreeing. “It just seems wrong for a woman as beautiful as you . . .”

If she were beautiful, then Kirstine was positively ravishing. But it did not matter what either of them looked like. If anything, beauty was a curse in this world, one dominated by power and strength. It hardly mattered that she was the daughter of an earl. She and Kirstine were similar in more ways than they were not. And like the maid, Clarissa would do what she must to survive.

“Aidan, are you listening?”

In truth, he was not. Something about another attack, further west.

“I heard some. What were you saying?”

Graeme crossed his arms and waited. He supposed his brother wished for him to explain what distracted him, though he’d likely not care for the answer.

Telling his brother I was thinking of the very lady who has the ability to unravel all of our plans; in fact, I was considering going to Sutworth Manor, just to ensure she is well would not do. Nay, he would keep those thoughts to himself.

“Douglas is becoming impatient. He sent word this morning that unless Theffield capitulates soon, he’ll not be able to persuade the clans to our cause,” Graeme repeated.

Aidan stood. The midday meal had ended, and he no longer wished to sit still.

Clarissa had been at Sutworth Manor for a full day now. How had the priest reacted to her plan? Would he help her? Or betray her to her father?

“Aidan!”

His reverie was broken by his sister-in-law’s shriek from the hall entrance. Allie, with her husband. The streaks of dark blond in Allie’s brown hair were not unlike the streak of wildness she possessed, the most noticeable difference between her and Gillian, who was currently resting in her bedchamber. The visit was unexpected, but no less welcome. He quite missed Allie, and the longsword lessons he’d given her while she lived at Highgate End.

Both he and Graeme left the trestle table to greet them, Aidan’s hand falling to the dirk that never left his side. Given to him by Allie’s husband, Reid, the youngest of the four Kerr brothers, it reminded him of the role he’d played in bringing the couple together. A role he was quite proud of, but one which had nearly cost him Gillian’s loyalty.

She’d not cared for Reid. Hated him, in fact. But luckily, those sentiments were firmly in the past. As they reached the newcomers, Aidan shook Reid’s hand. Or attempted to at least. Allie threw her arms around him, nearly stumbling in her eagerness, as everyone around them laughed.

“’Tis been too long,” she said, letting go.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, the happiness she enjoyed with her new husband evident. “Not so long, sister.”

Then his eye caught Reid’s, and he knew this was no simple familial visit. They came bearing news, and the way things were going lately, the tidings would not be welcome.

“She insisted on accompanying me.”

Allie shrugged. “He insisted on making it difficult.”

Aidan listened to their banter with pride, happy to have been right about them from the start. They were good for each other. They were happy together. Would he and Clarissa have ever achieved this easiness with each other?

And then Allie leveled a look of her own at him.

Uh-oh.

He knew that look. She’d noticed his expression.

“Will you walk with me?” she asked.

As if he had a choice. She would not be waylaid, and if her expression were any indication, this would not be an entirely comfortable discussion.

“I will share Reid’s news but have some of my own,” Allie added.

“Of course,” he said, following her from the hall into the courtyard. Ignoring the activity around them, the squeals of young children running past and the distant sounds of the armory, Aidan and Allie walked up a stone stairwell that led to an eastern-facing wall-walk. It was only when they arrived at the top, as he laid a hand on the stone in front of them and looked up at the cloudless sky, that Allie began her assault.

“Tell me,” she said simply.

He pretended to misunderstand.

“It seems there has been another attack—”

“Aidan.”

His connection to Allie had been this way from the start. They were able to read each other’s signals as if they’d been raised brother and sister in truth. He could try to pretend all was well, but she would learn of Clarissa from Gillian anyway. Strangely relieved to talk to someone about this nagging feeling that he’d abandoned Clarissa, he told her everything.

From their first meeting at Theffield Castle to their unexpected reunion. He told her that he felt poorly for leaving Clarissa in front of Sutworth Manor, alone and with an uncertain future, but even more poorly for putting his clan in danger. When he was finished, Aidan did not know what to expect. Which was typical when dealing with Allie.

“Why are you here?” she blurted finally.

“Pardon?”

“Here. At Highgate. Why are you here and not there?”

She was surely jesting. “Did you not hear me? She is Theffield’s daughter. And in hiding from her own father. When he finds out—”

Allie’s eyes narrowed. “He will do what, precisely? Come to Sutworth to fetch her? If she’s lucky, the lady will already be gone, her life given to God. If not, what do you suppose he will do?”

He refused to answer that particular question.

“Allie, if I were to aid her further and Theffield learned of my interference—”

“Then ensure he does not.”

Late last eve, after everyone else was abed, he’d thought of just that. Aidan knew how to breach the castle walls. But if he were discovered . . .

“If I’m found sneaking into Sutworth, my guilt will be undeniable. And even if the men are not loyal to him—”

“Then do not sneak. Simply pay her a visit.”

Allie was even madder than he’d thought. “Why did I not think of that? Simply ride to Sutworth, announce myself, and walk straightway into the hall asking for Lady Clarissa. ’Tis a fine plan—”

“For someone who was quite clever in helping me find a way to be with Reid, you’re acting oafish. Of course you will not ask for her. Simply a friendly visit from a neighbor—”

“Who has not been to Sutworth in some years.”

“But do they not warrant a warning too? The same warning about the current troubles that Reid and I came here to deliver?”

She’d managed to surprise him. He’d almost forgotten they had another purpose in being here. “What warning?”

Allie swallowed. “The Waryns are worried. Apparently the unrest has spread to the east. Even the most moderate English border lords are beginning to call to arms.”

It was what they feared would happen if the Day of Truce fell apart permanently. With the English king’s health deteriorating, and his heir overseas on Crusade, the borders apparently did not warrant the attention of those in power.

“Another reason not to incite trouble with the only man who may help us avoid war.”

“And that is the only reason you won’t go to Sutworth?”

Nay, not the only reason at all. But Aidan was finished with this conversation.

“You and Gillian are safe, for the moment. Our clan is safe. Nothing else—”

“Matters, I know. You’ve done everything possible to ensure it is so.”

Aidan straightened, knowing that was not true. Escorting Clarissa had put them in jeopardy.

“You do not understand—”

“Oh, aye, I understand well,” Allie said. “It is you who does not understand. But you will.”

With that cryptic statement, she walked away.

Laughing aloud, not caring if the guards overheard him and thought him daft, Aidan could not help but appreciate the situation. Allie was urging him to steal away to Sutworth—just like he’d helped her steal away to Brockburg when she and Reid were separated.

But this was different. Gillian had disliked her sister’s choice, aye, but that was not the same as risking the wrath of the Earl of Theffield. Yet . . . if Clarissa did not tell anyone how she’d come to be at Sutworth, was there really any danger in paying her a visit as Allie had suggested?

Do not attempt to fool yourself. Of course there is a danger.

But his sister-in-law was right on one account. He could not sit here and wait to learn of Clarissa’s fate. He would leave a quick message to Graeme, and then he would go to Sutworth and return before nightfall.

Just to ensure all was well.