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“Ah.” Sir Philip stroked his mustache. “I understand now. In sooth, Sir Lyndon, that is the reason my lord chose me rather than you. You have a place at his side during the vigor of battle, while I perform my duty at home.”

“Does that offend you?” Hugh asked Sir Philip.

“It is a little odd to be left behind after so many years of combat,” Sir Philip said. “But I cannot complain about the reasoning or the duty.”

Sir Lyndon lost control. He stood and towered over the rest of them and pointed his finger at Hugh. “I was to be your commander in your castle. You promised me!”

“I need you in the battle.”

“I deserve—” Sir Lyndon caught himself, and the words hung on the air.

“You have no experience in domestic matters.” Hugh didn’t address Sir Lyndon’s expectations, but as Sir Lyndon spoke, he became more and more sure of his own wisdom. “You should do as I do and learn from the people who have experience.”

“Who?” Sir Lyndon snapped.

“Lady Edlyn,” Hugh answered.

A vein in Sir Lyndon’s forehead swelled and beat with his agitation, and Hugh thought he would leap over the table and strangle him.

Instead he took several deep breaths and sank down into his seat. His chin dropped, and he spoke to his lap rather than to Hugh. “Then leave me here to learn.”

“Sir Philip—” Hugh began.

“Sir Philip is a warrior, too. He knows not about the direction of a castle, especially a castle so large. I would place myself under his direction, learn as he learns, and prove myself to you once more.” Sir Lyndon looked up and smiled persuasively, reminding Hugh of the joyous, rash young warrior he had once known. “And as you yourself said, my lord, Sir Philip is an old man. I doubt he would object to knowing there is someone here to carry out his orders.”

Hugh hadn’t thought of leaving both of them behind, but he would feel better knowing two minds, two hearts, were dedicated to protecting Edlyn and his home. They would serve as a check on each other, and knowing the other was watching, each would be forced to obey Edlyn as if she had always been their lady.

Sir Lyndon sensed Hugh’s weakening. “And my lord, I would like to point out that no one has seen Edmund Pembridge or any of his men since the battle last fall.”

Hugh jerked in surprise. “He’s with Simon de Montfort.”

Sir Lyndon shook his head.

“Then he’s with de Montfort’s son.”

Sir Lyndon smiled grimly. “He is not with either of them, nor is he dead, my lord. ’Tis said he wintered in his castle in Cornwall and with the spring went on the march against his enemies. Mayhap it would do well to zealously fortify his former home against him.”

Did Hugh think Edlyn was a fool? She would have declared love, affection, need, anything if it would have kept him at her side, but nothing would do that. She could have wallowed in love, tempted him with her body, strung a thousand kisses across his form, and he still would have ridden off to do his duty.

Duty. It made her ill. She’d done her duty too often and too well, and what had it got her? An empty bed.

Of course, some people might say it didn’t need to be empty. Hugh had slept elsewhere last night, but only because she’d locked the door against him. He’d been furious, if his poundings and his shouts had been any indication, but she’d just pulled the covers up and ignored him, and eventually he’d gone away. He hadn’t even burned down the door as she half expected. He’d just…gone away.

Gone away.

She shoved the rugs off her head and sat up. An early morning light beamed in through the glass, and she stared at it in blatant incredulity.

If she didn’t get downstairs, he would leave without her pledge of love.

She scrambled out of bed fully dressed and ran to the door. Remembering, she ran back to her trunk and pulled out a white linen shift. Hands trembling with haste, she returned to the door and pulled the bar out of its brackets. Her bare feet made no sound as she descended the stairs, and the cold of the stone made no impression on her. She only knew she had to find Hugh before he left. She skidded on the reeds as she raced into the great hall and found it abandoned.

So all the servants had gone downstairs to bid the warriors farewell. She would join them.

The outer door hung open, and from the landing she saw the great gathering of servants, just as she expected. But rather than facing outward to wave good-bye, they walked toward her as if that duty had already been carried out.

She looked at the gate, but no troop of knights remained within.

“My lady?” Neda stood on the bottom step and looked up at her. “They’re gone.”