Ransom sighed, feeling the conflict wrestling inside him. “I will, my lord.” He had already written to Claire to assure her that he’d survived his wound. Part of him felt he should warn her about the king’s request, but he decided it wasn’t necessary to send a second letter. Why worry her unnecessarily? His heart hadn’t changed.
The king looked surprised. “How strange that I should find more joy in your honest declaration than I do in my own sons. You were a comfort to King Gervase, as I recall. I never should have sent you away.” He sighed. “But I must again. Take the men to Josselin and see that they get some rest, food, and a little wine. But not too much. Then go west and relieve Ashel.”
Ransom wondered if now was the right time to bring it up. “My lord . . .”
“Yes?” asked the king, his eyebrows rising.
“There’s another reason I’m reluctant to go to Bayree. When I made the demand of Estian, he . . .” Ransom wasn’t sure how to say it.
“Go on,” urged the king.
“He . . . laughed at me.”
“Why were you surprised? Laughter is often a reaction to shocking things.”
“I know that kind of laughter, my lord. This was different. He haggled more over the price of the peace than he did giving up one of his own duchies.”
The king looked at him with curiosity. “Perhaps Bayree was giving Estian more trouble than it was worth to him.” He chuckled. “Well, lad, it would seem you have a challenge to face. Get to it, then bring me word at Kingfountain what you have learned about your new domain.”
Ransom bowed his head and left the tent.
The view of Josselin castle filled Ransom’s chest with relief. The smell of tallow again became unmistakable, and as they rode through the town, several of the townsfolk waved and called out cheerful greetings. That had never happened to him before, and it brought a smile to his face. He nodded politely in return.
After crossing the threshold into the castle courtyard, he dismounted, and his steward, Westin, approached.
“Welcome home, my lord,” he said with a bow. “Your sister is here.”
Ransom barely had time to process the words before Maeg appeared in the entryway, grinning, and rushed down the steps to embrace him.
“What brings you here?” Ransom asked her, grateful to see her. It made it feel like more of a homecoming.
“Lady Elodie asked me to come. She wanted to know how to make this castle more suitable to you.” She pulled back. “You look well, Brother. I’d heard you were injured during the fighting.”
“It wasn’t much,” Ransom said.
“He’s not being truthful,” said Dearley, who came up to them. “Or he’s simply being modest. I am Sir John Dearley, the first knight in your brother’s mesnie. How do you do?”
“I am well. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir John. My name is Maeg Barton.”
“Everyone calls me Dearley,” he said, bowing slightly. This time he didn’t tell the story. His gaze lifted over Maeg’s shoulder, and his eyes brightened.
Ransom followed his look and saw Lady Elodie had appeared in the doorway. Suppressing a smile, he clapped Dearley on the back. “Would you have Elodie prepare food for the knights who came with us? Westin, can you make space for them to bed down for the evening?”
“Of course,” said Westin and Dearley simultaneously.
As they branched off to fulfill his commands, Ransom felt Maeg grip his arm and guide him toward the little park on the far side of the courtyard.
“It’s a pretty castle,” she said. “Larger than the Heath, for certain. You’ve done well for yourself, Brother.”
“My fortunes continue to change,” he said as they walked. “I’ve not been to Gison since my return or the manor in Brythonica either. Did Sir Kace escort you?”
“No. Marcus wouldn’t have condoned it. I came with Sir Veren instead. But enough of my woes. Surely you will have more time now to enjoy your new home?”
“No. The king is sending me to Bayree in Occitania.”
“I heard that the duke had fallen.” She turned her head to study him. “No . . . what I heard was that you killed him. Why not capture him instead?”
He had it on the edge of his tongue to tell her it wasn’t always possible to control the outcome of battles, that sometimes you needed to do what you could to survive, but he didn’t wish to frighten her. He didn’t want her to know how close he had come to dying.
“I’ll remember that next time a duke tries to kill me,” he answered.
Maeg shook her head, her dark hair fanning over her shoulders. “And why are you going to Bayree?”
“The Occitanians will only relinquish Bayree to us as part of a marriage alliance. The duke’s niece is his heir, and King Devon wishes for me to marry her.” The thought made him wince, and although he tried to hide his reaction, it didn’t escape his sister’s notice.
“That doesn’t please you, does it?”
Ransom sighed, looking at the sculpted hedgerow on each side of the gravel path. The hedges had been shaped into large spheres as well as a low wall bordering the path. A few gardeners were milling about, cutting away the excess growth.
“I’m still devoted to Claire,” he said. “Besides, I don’t trust any of this. I’ve not been home that long, Maeg. Every time I think I’ve found my place . . . it gets ripped away from me. Bayree is so very far away, a spike of land in the sea. I saw the map in the king’s tent. It’s next to Benedict’s land, and he’ll make for a surly neighbor.”
“How does Claire feel about you?” she asked.
“We are friends,” Ransom said with a shrug. “I have permission to write her but not to court her. I wish I knew her feelings, but I cannot ask. It would violate my agreement with the king, and it would be unfair to her. I can’t marry her unless he changes his mind.”
“It would not be wise to upset the king,” Maeg agreed. “What of Benedict? Is he still at odds with the king?”
“Yes. And he’s angry with the king’s decision to give me the duchy. He feels it should go to Jon-Landon.”
“Shouldn’t it? Wouldn’t you rather have another duchy instead?”
“I would. But the only prize left for the taking is Glosstyr, and he means for Jon-Landon to marry Claire and take ownership of it. I cannot bear that thought. I . . . I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m glad I came. You need advice from someone who loves you. I think Mama would say the same thing. You need to be clear on how you feel. I take it you don’t intend to marry Lady Elodie?”
“No!” Ransom said, surprised. “I told Dearley as much and asked him to tell her.”
“I know,” said Maeg, giving him a gentle but scolding look. “You need to tell her yourself. She’s confused. I think she cares about your first knight. But she also feels obligated to you as her guardian.”
Ransom’s brow furrowed. “I’m not—”
“Just talk to her,” said Maeg. “It’s frightening, being in her position. Knowing that she might be given to a man to further his fame or wealth.” Her voice hinted that the struggle she described was one she knew well. “If you will make no claim on her yourself, then tell her. Don’t make her wait.”