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‘I know. What I said before...’ Alan shrugged, though the gesture seemed somewhat forced. ‘It was just wishful thinking. She probably only thinks of me as a brother.’
‘Perhaps, but if Father even suspects how you feel...’
‘I won’t do anything stupid, I promise, at least not without talking to you first. Does that make you feel better?’
‘A little.’ Matthew held on to his brother’s gaze uncertainly. Alan sounded convincing, but there was still a hint of defiance behind the bravado and if it turned out that Adelaide did return his feelings... Well, Matthew didn’t want to think about what might happen then, but there was nothing else he could say or do. Alan was a grown man, after all, capable of making his own decisions. And mistakes... ‘In that case, there’s something else I need to talk to you about. Only I need your promise that you won’t breath a word to anyone, Adelaide included.’
‘Of course, if it’s important.’
‘It is.’ Matthew glanced around surreptitiously. ‘It’s about the King. You know John’s behaviour has become more and more tyrannical over the past few years? Well, the campaign in France was the last straw. The barons want him to agree to a charter limiting his powers.’
‘But surely he’ll never agree to that?’
‘He will if he has to.’ Matthew threw a swift look over his shoulder, making doubly sure that no one else was within earshot. ‘I’ve been helping to gather support, identifying those nobles who might get behind the barons if it comes to a stand-off.’
‘Against the King?’
‘Hopefully it won’t come to that, but it’s a possibility. In the meantime, we need to know if John sends any word to his supporters.’
‘Meaning Father?’
&n
bsp; ‘Exactly. If he receives any messages, I need to know.’
‘And you’re afraid of Father finding out about my feelings for Adelaide?’ Alan let out a low whistle. ‘This is really dangerous, Matthew. I’ll come and tell you if any messengers arrive, but Father’s temper is even worse than it used to be. If he finds out what you’re involved in...’
‘I’m not the youth I was when I left.’
‘True.’ Alan gave him an appraising look. ‘Does Constance know about this?’
‘No. The fewer people who know, the better.’
‘But if something goes wrong, John could take your lands away from you, couldn’t he?’
‘It won’t come to that. Constance loves Lacelby. I won’t let her lose it.’
‘But what if you can’t stop it? If things go wrong and you haven’t warned her...’
‘I know.’ Matthew felt a stab of guilt, unwilling to acknowledge the possibility. ‘But I gave my word that I wouldn’t tell her. I can’t break it.’
‘As long as you know what you’re doing.’
‘I thought that I did.’
Matthew frowned. Maybe Alan was right and he ought to warn Constance, but just the thought of admitting that he had yet another dark secret to tell her filled him with dread. Ever since arriving in Wintercott their marriage seemed to have been nothing but a string of difficult conversations. Well, that and one amazing morning in bed. How could he go back to their chamber now and announce that he had something else to tell her, especially when he’d as good as denied having any more secrets? He hadn’t lied—he’d told her there were no more dark secrets about his family—but the deliberate evasion had still caused him a pang of guilt.
The worst part was that Alan was right. If the rebellion failed, John wouldn’t hesitate to take Lacelby away from him, which meant taking it away from Constance, too. She could lose the home she loved all over again. Because of him. Again. She’d definitely regret not taking the annulment he’d offered then—the annulment he’d just made it impossible for her to obtain.
He ran a hand over his brow. Maybe bedding her hadn’t been the wisest course of action after all, only now that he had, he could hardly think of anything other than doing it again...
‘I can’t break my word and it’s too late for me to back out now.’ He spoke firmly, trying to convince himself. ‘And even if it wasn’t, I believe in the charter. I doubt it will come to war and if it does...the barons will just have to win.’
‘Just like that?’ Alan gave him a penetrating look. ‘Well, whatever happens, I’m on your side. Only take her home first.’
‘Thank you.’ Matthew gave his brother one last pat on the shoulder and then started back towards the keep. Alan was right about that, too. No matter what else, he had to take Constance home first. Under the circumstances, it was the least he could do.
* * *
