I wept, my head against his chest, my arms around his waist, his wrapped about my shoulders. He was my brother. I had to believe him.

It was a measure of my distress, and of his weakness, that neither of us heard the sounds of men approaching until it was much too late. Then, very close by, a twig cracked under a boot heel, and I heard Ben’s voice.

“Jenny? Are you all right?”

My head came up with a jerk. There he was, sword in hand, face almost comical in its shock, with dropped jaw and staring eyes as he looked across and saw me in my brother’s arms. I opened my mouth and shut it again.

“Seize that man!” Now there were lights, and the sound of weapons being drawn, and behind Ben was Lord Richard of Northwoods, his face a wondrous blend of gloating excitement and righteous outrage. “Take the girl too. You see how he repays Lord Hugh for his trust!”

Still I stood there gaping stupidly, numb with shock. But Conor possessed skills none of these people had ever dreamed of, and before ever Lord Richard’s men advanced across the open ground, he had slipped from my arms like a shadow, and vanished back under the willows in total silence. It was as if he had never been there.

“After him!” hissed Richard. “Don’t let him escape!” Three men crashed off into the undergrowth, eager for the chase. But Richard stayed behind, and I felt his grip close around my arm like an iron fetter.

“That was exceedingly stupid of you, my dear. Put quite a dampener on the family picnic. What, oh what would our Hugh say? What I wouldn’t give, to see his face when he finds out. Less than two moons wed, and already she’s off into the woods like a bitch in heat, wrapping herself around another man. And not just any man, either; one of her own kind, somebody that’s avid for the information she can give him, and—well, come on, boy. Give me a hand. Let’s take the little slut back to my sister, and see what she thinks of her son’s new bride now.”

And the cruelest thing, as Richard dragged me along after him, was to look into Ben’s face and see the expression of wounded betrayal and shocked incomprehension there. What could he do but believe the evidence of his own eyes? He had come after me, concerned solely for my safety. He had found me out in the darkness, locked in the arms of a young man of my own people. He did not want to believe it, but my guilt was plain to see. I could give no explanation. I walked back with him on one side of me, his distress written plain on every feature, and Richard on the other, his viselike grip telling me plainly, you thought you could outwit Richard of Northwoods? You made a big miscalculation, little witch girl.