Her expression was soft and her palms came up in a gesture that begged forgiveness.
“We had no choice. There was only so much Madoc could do to hold off the poison. We needed Ewan’s greater skill.”
“So you carried an outlaw even further into his family’s stronghold.” His pinched expression left no one in doubt of his opinion on this decision.
“Rion, he wouldn’t have made it to the Lakelands,” Bronwyn said.
“And now he may never,” Deverell gritted out as he brought himself up to his full height and without another word, strode from the room.
“What did that mean?” I asked into the silence.
Bronwyn shook her head, her eyes flicking to the servants lingering around the room. Later then, I thought, but her brow was furrowed and she looked as worried as I had ever seen her. This was not an encouraging sign considering that most of the time I had spent with the Kernowan was while we were being hunted by the vile hounds and her cousin lay on the edge of death.
Gideon rose and I hurried after him. The hall was empty when I got there and my shoulders dropped. Where did he go? I needed to speak to him before he told Deverell the truth of my identity.
I kept going and as I reached the alcove Bronwyn and I had ducked into earlier, a hard hand reached out and grabbed me.
I found myself yet again at eye level with Gideon’s broad chest and had to crane my neck back.
“Why did you not tell him who you are?” He glowered down at me.
I’d had plenty of time to plan it out while they were recounting our adventure. Saving Devyn’s neck was not an argument that would sway Gideon to hold his tongue.
“I don’t think it’s safe.”
“What?”
“You said it yourself.” I hurried through my explanation. “Somebody tried to kill us. We need to find out who it was. What do you think will happen as soon as Rion Deverell learns I’m alive?”
“He will make sure you are safe.”
“I’ll never be safe as long as the poisoner is out there. Think about it. Whoever it was got close enough to nearly kill Devyn. Maybe they were after Devyn, or maybe it was meant for one of us. But if Devyn is imprisoned and Marcus is in York, and I’m rolled in cotton wool in a tower in Carlisle, we’ll never know.”
“That sounds like an acceptable outcome to me.”
I exhaled audibly.
“Well, I can’t live like that for ever. I won’t live like that,” I underlined before throwing down my trump card. “You said you wouldn’t reveal my identity.”
His eyes narrowed at the reminder.
A small tic pulsed at the corner of his jaw. He would not forgive me for putting him in this position, especially when he realised that I was doing it for Devyn.
“Unless it puts you at risk… If it becomes necessary, I will tell him.”
“For now, I think it’s in all our best interests to keep my return from the dead quiet,” I bargained.
“Or you could tell him now.”
There had to be an argument that would sway him. I went through everything I knew about Gideon. He had a mind like a steel trap; he had figured out who I was on the slightest of evidence and he could argue his way through any logic I might present. The man was like a rock, completely invulnerable… No, that wasn’t true. He had a weakness.
“What about your father?”
“What about him?”
“What will he do if my brother takes me north? You know that Marcus and I can’t be separated. How will the Steward of York feel about his prince being taken to Mercia? All that power back in Britannia, in the hands of your friend. What happens then?”
Gideon stilled. Who said I didn’t understand Briton politics? Because I knew what would happen next and so did Gideon. York would gear up for war. Gideon’s blood family against his sworn loyalty. Which side would he choose? “Bad time for Briton lords to be fighting amongst themselves.” I pressed home the advantage while I sensed him weakening. “War is coming. Will you be ready, or will you be too busy fighting each other?”
“You are asking me to lie to my liege lord.”
“No. I’m just asking you to delay telling the truth,” I said.
“For how long?”
How much more could I reveal before I gave away too much? He wouldn’t agree to this indefinitely.
“We need to find a way to get these bloody handfast cuffs off. Then Marcus can go to York and I can go to Mercia and everyone is happy.
“You’ll tell him before you leave here.”
I nodded.
His eyebrow rose. Damn it.
“Your word on it, m’lady.”
I sighed. I weighed up my options. There weren’t many – more than we’d had in the arena though. I shrugged.
“Fine, you have my word on it.”
So many promises. So many secrets.
He moved fractionally closer, invading my space. I had to crane my neck further back to maintain eye contact. He was way too close. Gods, he was large.
“I give you my word that I will tell my brother who I am before I leave Gwynedd.” It was the first time I had acknowledged him out loud as my brother since he had arrived. From the moment he had got off his horse and forced Devyn to the ground, he had become a threat to be dealt with – just another problem that stood between me and Devyn. But he was my brother. When he discovered how we had tricked him he would be angry. Disappointed. I was so over disappointing family. It wouldn’t be the best start, but he was the one who had come here and attacked Devyn.
“I will hold you to that, city girl,” Gideon stated flatly. “Interesting, though, that you’re planning to separate from your dear betrothed.”
“Calchas and the council put us together. We have no interest in staying together. I’m here because I’m a Briton and I want to
