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“She loves it,” Jemma replied. “She kept telling us it was the Queen’s bedchamber. Kieran told her it was a Princess’ bedchamber because she was a princess. He is remarkable with her, Jordi. He is a natural father.”

“Mary Alys is a fortunate lass,” Jordan agreed. “I am so glad you have accepted her.”

Jemma nodded. “She is mine. No matter that I dinna birth her. She is mine.”

Jordan smiled, tilting her head as she looked at her cousin. “She even looks like you a little,” she said. “She has the same color hair, and the same curls as ye.”

“Aye, but her hair is much prettier,” Jemma replied. “And her eyes are such a beautiful gray. Have ye ever seen prettier eyes?”

“Aye,” Jordan said with an arrogant lift of her chin. “On my own sons. Scott’s are pale blue and Troy’s are turning golden like his father’s.”

“I noticed,” Jemma agreed. “Troy’s eyes are very unusual. But dinna yer mother have pale blue eyes?”

“I do not remember, of course, but Da said so,” she said. “In fact, Da said mother was the fairest lass he ever saw. He said her hair was white-gold silk and her eyes the color of a hot summer sky.”

“I dunna remember her at all,” Jemma said, staring into the flame. “We were so young when she died.”

The subject of her mother didn’t bother Jordan anymore, but it was years before she was able to talk of her without crying. Now, she could speak of her quiet logically. But speaking of her mother suddenly brought to the surface questions about her father’s fate and she felt her chest swelling with anxiety and grief.

“Has Kieran told ye of Langton’s fate?” she asked her cousin quietly.

“Nay,” Jemma said, saddening. “I havena asked. I have been a-feared to.”

“Me, too,” Jordan admitted. “Before William left London he promised me he would go to Langton himself. I havena even asked him if he did. I almost dunna want to know.”

“But we must know, eventually,” Jemma said.

“I know,” Jordan said dully. “Mayhap…mayhap we will ask together. We can support each other’s courage.”

“Aye,” Jemma nodded. “ ’Tis as good an idea as any. But ye do the asking.”

“I will,” Jordan replied quietly, wondering where she was going to find the strength to do it.

*

William and Kieran entered the room nearly an hour later, having supped in private with the knights. Kieran went immediately to peek in on Mary Alys for his own peace of mind before greeting his wife with a kiss to the temple.

“She is swallowed up by that huge bed,” he chuckled.

William grinned, pouring himself a cup of wine. “She will grow into it.”

Jordan lifted her cheek for a kiss as William settled himself in another chair. The four of them were quiet for several moments, relaxing at the end of a busy day. Jordan took a breath and glanced at Jemma. From the look on her cousin’s face she could tell that they were thinking the same thing. The time was now; they wanted to know what had become of Langton and their kin.

“English?” Jordan said softly.

“What, love,” he took a sip of wine.

“Did ye ever go to Langton as ye promised?” she asked casually.

He froze in mid-swallow. Steadying himself, he cleared his throat. “Why do you ask me that now?”

“Because ye havena said anything about it,” she turned to look at him. “Ye promised me when ye left London that ye would see to my kin. Did ye?”

He sighed. “Aye, I did.”

Jordan’s heart lurched. “And?”

He set down the cup. He knew she was going to eventually demand answers, but he was dreading giving them. He had hoped to spare her as long as he could.