Page 2

“Sir Gareth Claymore of Fenwall Manor,” the second man added. “We wish only a private word.”

He was about to tell them no again, when the first man, whose beard covered most of his face, said, “I squired alongside your father, a man well respected despite the false claims against him. He and your mother accepted me into your home this winter’s past and know me well. We simply wish for a brief word.”

He lied.

Not about squiring alongside his father or visiting his home, one Gareth had not been to for too long. He lied about wishing for only a brief word. That same premonition that told Gareth something was amiss with the German’s claim also told him that this man wanted more than just a word. Perhaps it was the way his gaze held Gareth’s, even beneath the hood.

However, he was not a threat. Of that, Gareth was certain.

Handing off the reins of his mount to his squire, Gareth wordlessly followed the two mysterious men toward the edge of the tents, where they could presumably not be overheard.

Gareth had no way of knowing for certain, but he guessed that their arrival and the odd accusation of cheating were related and told the men as much when they’d reached their apparent destination.

“You had something to do with the German’s cheating claims.”

He did not ask it as a question but stated it as a fact. By both men’s reactions, Gareth realized he’d been right.

“And intelligent,” the bearded men said to the other, as if they were appraising him.

“Indeed,” his companion replied. “He will do well for us. Very well indeed.”

2

“Evie,” her maid whispered, much too loudly.

Evelina attempted to hush her with a hand gesture, but instead of quieting down, Amalia pulled on her sleeve and repeated herself.

“Evie.” Her hushed whisper would have them caught sooner than Evelina’s eavesdropping. “Come away from the door before your father catches you.”

“Nay,” she said, ignoring the tug on her gown’s draping sleeve. “He is with Lord Stirling, and ’tis important. I can sense something is afoot.”

That the door to her father’s solar chamber remained ajar was both surprising and exciting. She’d seen Lord Stirling follow him inside and though Evelina did not consider herself lucky, or even believe in such a thing, today her luck held true as the door was not fully closed behind them. ’Twas late enough that much of the staff was abed already, so she’d not expected to be caught, except by Amalia, who most certainly would be looking for her.

And indeed, had found her.

“Ask him on the morrow. Perhaps he will tell you. But this eve—”

Amalia stopped whispering as Evelina gave her a look meant to convey how little she appreciated her advice. Her closest companion since childhood—the farmer’s daughter had been assigned to her as a maid when they had seen fewer than nine summers—crossed her arms.

Ignoring the gesture, she put her ear once again to the crack at the door.

“We’ve seen none like him before,” Lord Stirling said.

“His reputation is warranted, then?”

“Aye. We’ve known of his prowess as a tourney knight, but Thorne tested him well beyond those limits.”

“What do they say?” Amalia asked.

“You do not wish me to listen but want to know of the conversation?” she whispered back. A wall torch’s light flickered across from them as the two women huddled by the ornate wooden door. Silent, they listened to be certain none came upon them, but the only sound came from inside her father’s solar.

Amalia—her cheeky maid whose kind hazel eyes seem to hold the wisdom of centuries past even though she was of the same age as Evelina—simply shrugged. Neither woman had seen twenty summers, neither were married, and some even thought the two sisters on the rare occasion Evelina’s maid wore her chestnut hair loose. Indeed, they were as inseparable now as when they were children, Amalia her only companion since Evelina’s mother disappeared before begetting more children. And typically, her maid and dear friend kept Evelina out of trouble, or at least she attempted to do so.

But now she was curious too.

“If the German had killed him?”

Who were they speaking of? What German? Killed who?