By Grace Possessed by Jennifer Blake

fingers had grown rigid with his displeasure, in spite of his attempt to pass it off. It would be best if she stepped lightly. “The king has a purpose in this, as in most things. I am not likely to sway him from it.”
    “You sound unwilling to try, if I may say so. Something took place between you and the Scotsman in the New Forest, did it not? Was it so satisfactory that you pant to enjoy it again?”
    “You are offensive, sir.” She lifted her hand from his arm at once.
    “But am I right?”
    “Nothing took place, nothing!”
    “Dunbar says the same, and has bludgeoned half a dozen men to insensibility with fists, cudgel and the flat of his sword over it. Still, the king moved with amazing swiftness to mend your good name.”
    “An affair of state rather than a necessity, I do assure you.” That Ross had been forced to defend her honor with physical prowess was disturbing. She’d had no idea of it until this moment. Certainly, he’d said nothing to her. “How so?”
    She remained silent as Trilborn held open the door to a short and windowless corridor that led to another series of chambers. Only when she had passed through ahead of him did she answer over her shoulder. “I believe Henry sees the alliance as a way to decrease border tensions.”
    “It seems more likely to fan them. Surely he knows of the bad blood between my family and Dunbar’s?”
    “I should be surprised to know Henry gave the feud a single thought.” She hesitated a moment, then went on. “Is it of such moment that he should heed it? Can it not be mended?”
    “My lady, you must know better.”
    “How did it start? What dread deed made it necessary to continue these many years?”
    Confusion rippled across Trilborn’s face before he lifted a shoulder. “I hardly know, if truth be told. I was brought up on bedtime stories of the dread Dunbars, shook with nightmares of being dragged from my sleep and hanged in my little nightshirt, or having my head chopped off like a young cockerel ready for the pot.”
    “They did nothing of the kind to children, surely!” She could almost be sorry for him, or at least for the boy who had been steeped in such a frightening legacy.
    “Who can say?” he answered, his face grim. “They did enough.”
    “As did your family, from what I heard.”
    “Yet we are never quite even.”
    “What will that take, the death of all Dunbars?”
    “Or their defeat and dishonor, so my father and grandfather would say,” Trilborn allowed with a snorting laugh. “That Henry would overlook the business is hard to credit when he is well versed in all else that takes place, keeps his thumb on the country’s pulse through his cadre of agents and paid informants.” The courtier shook his head. “He plays a deeper game. I wish I knew what it was.”
    “You are mistaken if you think I can tell you.” That was true only in part, as Cate had gained some small insight during the audience at Winchester. Still, it wouldbe the height of conceit to presume her betrothal played a major role in the matter.
    “You don’t have to understand it to become his pawn.”
    Pawns were often sacrificed in order to save more valuable pieces. Cate felt hollow inside as that thought struck her.
    “So,” Trilborn said, reclaiming her regard, “you will not speak to Henry?”
    “He would never listen. How many times must I tell you?”
    “Those who venture nothing also gain nothing,” he declared.
    “A maxim for the battlefield, as I recall. This is my life we are discussing.”
    “Which you will spend in Scotland, if you don’t have a care. I should think an English husband would suit you better. I could give you as much satisfaction as any Scots oaf, I’ll warrant.”
    “I am promised. Can we not leave it at that until it proves otherwise?”
    “Promised to Dunbar, of all men,” Trilborn said, ignoring her plea. “By all the saints, I believe it’s what you want!”
    “All I want, sir, is to be left alone!”
    She