‘I want my dagger back.’
He shrugged. ‘And you’ll have it. Once you’ve told me what I wish to know.’
‘I already told you. I don’t know where Katherine is.’
‘That isn’t the price of your dagger.’
‘Then what is?’
‘Tell me more about your sister. What does she covet? What gifts can I bring her that will give me an advantage over the others?’
Honora didn’t answer at first. A sliver of anger balled up inside, wounding her pride. She didn’t want to give him information about Katherine, didn’t want to aid his courtship.
But it wasn’t jealousy, she told herself. No, it was simply that Ewan wasn’t the man for Katherine. He was far too aggressive, too bold for her sister’s gentle ways.
‘What about an animal?’ he suggested. ‘Perhaps a kitten. I haven’t seen many cats around, and it might be useful to her.’
‘A kitten,’ she repeated, while mad thoughts of vengeance flowed through her mind. Her conscience prickled, but she stamped it down. It would serve him right for kissing her, stealing her dagger and demanding information about Katherine.
‘No one has given her a kitten, thus far,’ she admitted.
Jesu. Now she would have to go to confession. Thank goodness Father Louis was nearly deaf. She could confess to murder, and the priest would offer the same absolution as ever.
Ewan released her wrist. ‘Was that so difficult?’ He unsheathed the dagger and handed it to her, pommel first. ‘And you should have the blacksmith adjust this weapon. The balance is off.’
‘It was broken once.’ Her husband, Ranulf, had destroyed the blade in a fit of temper, tossing it into the fire. Honora had never expected to see it again, but she’d found it among her belongings shortly after she’d left Ceredys. Marie St Leger must have ordered it repaired, though Honora didn’t know why. Though she was grateful for the dagger’s return, she disliked the large pommel the blacksmith had added, preferring a simpler design.
Honora rubbed her wrist and tucked the weapon into her girdle without another word. She strode away, trying to push her way past the irrational anger. What was it about Ewan MacEgan that tangled up her sense of reason? As a child, she’d lost her head over him. As a woman, she found him entirely too confident.
Entirely too handsome and strong.
Oh, she needed to bash her head against the stone wall. Perhaps that would knock some sense into her. She didn’t need a man like him, or any man. Despite her father’s wishes, she would never marry again.
But if she didn’t, Nicholas would force her to leave Ardennes and return to Ceredys. The very thought made her skin turn to ice. She wasn’t ready yet. Nicholas wasn’t about to lend her men against John, and she didn’t have soldiers of her own.
She’d tried to hire mercenaries two moons ago, believing that they could remove John from power and allow her to return to Ceredys. But she’d learned the darker side of soldiers, for they’d stolen her money and done nothing in return. Her naïvety had cost her dearly.
No, she needed men of honour. And men of that nature required more coins than she had.
Her father’s suggestion that she wed a man with an army wouldn’t do, either. A new husband would have no interest in going to war against John of Ceredys.
There was no one to help.
A frisson of grief curled over her. Marie St Leger, John’s grandmother, might have known what to do, had she lived. She had been one of the most intelligent ladies Honora had ever known. Strong-willed and furious with her own sons, Marie treated her like a daughter. And it was because of Marie that she’d managed to escape at all.
It broke her heart to think of the woman’s death, only a single moon ago. She’d kept her vow to pray for Marie’s soul each night.
Honora blinked back the wetness rising in her eyes. She needed a moment to herself, a chance to think. Perhaps if she rode out from the castle, she’d find a solution for the people of Ceredys.
She walked to the stables and ordered a groom to prepare her palfrey. When the horse was ready, she urged the animal away from the castle grounds. Two guards joined her as escorts, but she ignored them, pretending for a moment that she was alone.
A light summer rain began to fall, misting her cheeks as she rode. The scent of horse and musty earth made her throat tighten. Why did this have to happen? Was God punishing her for her disobedience as a girl? She’d gone against the natural order of things, wanting to be more like a warrior than a woman.
And it was wrong, wasn’t it? Why couldn’t she content herself with womanly things? Why was there such a need inside, to be as strong as a man?
Unwanted tears mingled with the rain. All she’d ever wanted was to please her father. She had worn the silk bliauds and jewels, pretending to be feminine and everything he’d wanted in a daughter. But he’d hardly noticed her. Only when she argued with him did he pay her any heed.
Katherine had never lacked for attention. Their father had given her everything she’d ever desired, lavishing her with gifts and affection. And though Honora never admitted it, she envied her sister.
She slowed the horse, letting it stop by the river to drink. Her veil was damp from the rain, the water clinging to her skin.
It was her penance, she supposed. She’d come to accept that her father would never love her. Though he would never say it, she knew he blamed her for the death of her twin. The daughter had lived, while the coveted son had died.
In a way, it was why she wanted to fight so badly. She wanted to atone for her brother’s death, to become the warrior he would have been. And perhaps then, her father would find something worthy inside her.
In secret, she’d learned to fight, with Ewan’s help. Now, she watched the men train each day. She borrowed swords from the armoury, practising until her arms burned with exhaustion.
Never once had she shown Nicholas her skill. She was afraid of dishonouring her father, of embarrassing him in front of everyone. How could he ever be proud of a daughter who behaved like a man?
No. He’d hate her even more. And so she’d hidden it from him. For now, she could only use her fighting skills to protect the castle from petty thieves. That is, if she could catch the man.
As the rain intensified, Honora reluctantly turned her horse back to the castle. The ride had helped to clear her head, but now she had to decide what to do about her father’s threat.
She could feign acceptance of her father’s wishes, pretending to consider a suitor. Once Katherine was safely wed, she could try to escape the arrangement. The only problem was finding a man willing to go along with her ruse. Honora didn’t like the thought of lying or causing anyone to feel humiliated.
She would have to find the right person. Honesty was best for such an arrangement.
Her hand closed upon the grip of her dagger. And in the meantime, she still had a thief to
