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“Bastard.”

“Or rather, why?”

“This time, it was not of my doing.”

Galien seemed skeptical. “Nay?”

Rory groaned, the pain in his head much worse than the one on his face. Or mayhap they were the same. It was difficult to discern, precisely.

“A man attempted to go abovestairs.”

“You fought with a man whose crime was attempting to go to bed?”

“He did not rent a room for the night.”

Gael reached for another piece of his bread. “How do you know?”

“Because I watched him all eve. Didn’t like the way he looked.”

Galien’s hand froze. His eyes narrowed.

“He was looking for Reina?”

Rory shrugged. “Mayhap. But I was not taking the chance. Told him there was nothing for him up there if he hadn’t rented a room. Which Edgar confirmed he had not.”

“I was up there,” Galien said.

Rory smiled. “I know. And never came back to the loft. Good for you, Gael. You deserve it.”

His cousin rolled his eyes. “I slept outside her door, you arse.”

“Oh.” Rory reclaimed a bit of bread. “I wasn’t taking a chance. So why did you sleep outside her door?”

“For the very reason you watched the stairs. I trust few of Keston’s patrons. With good reason, it seems.”

“Aye, good reason indeed.” Rory noticed his cousin continued to watch the stairs, waiting for Lady Reina to appear. He thought for a moment to inform the poor bastard he was truly done for. If Galien wasn’t already in love with the woman, Rory would take a fist to the left eye. But it wasn’t his place to interfere. Galien, of any of them, knew his own mind. And would determine his course no matter what Rory said to him.

He admired that of Gael. But it was also that single-minded stubbornness, even righteousness, that had gotten him captured and nearly killed. They’d all attempted to dissuade him from the path he currently travelled, but none had thus far been successful.

The cause was a just one, and he’d fight side by side with Galien when it was warranted. But he’d not be so foolish as to travel with Wallace and his men, ensuring his own demise. A dead man could not fight for any cause, just or not.

“What will you tell Anbarth’s men if they still lurk when you return?” Gael asked.

Rory had considered the question already. “That I spied my cousin and his hostage fleeing north to Brockburg.” Earning a stern look, he amended. “Or perhaps that I remembered a prior engagement, attended to it, and would certainly keep watch for the missing maid of Anbarth. Or shall I say, the babe of Dennochbrook?”

“As to that. . .”

“As to that, if it is she, I will learn of it. I’ve thought of another I might ask in addition to the healer. After I return to Bristol to apprise my parents of your situation, I will follow both leads and be at Brockburg as soon as I am able.”

His cousin’s look of gratitude was welcome, but unnecessary. Galien was family, and if he wanted to learn of Lady Reina’s past, he would. Rory would ensure it. Besides, they owed the woman the ultimate debt. Payment for Galien’s life.

“Speaking of Lady Reina. . .”

Galien’s head snapped toward the stairs.

Rory didn’t even bother hiding his laughter.

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