“You believe him?”

“I believe you and if you believe him that is good enough for me.”

Willow hugged him again. “Thank you, James, and thank you for being a wonderful brother.” She turned a soft smile on him as she stepped away from him. “So how long before you tell Eleanor how you feel about her?”

James laughed. “Not long. Not long at all.

Willow hurried into the Great Hall where she had left her husband, hoping he was still there. The hall room was full of a mix of people, clan members, Lord Ruddock’s warriors, and some of Tarass’s warriors. But she had yet to spot Slatter.

Chatter and laughter filled the room. Even Snow and Eleanor were deep in conversation and Willow kept her distance from them not wanting to be drawn into their chatter. She needed to find her husband.

She finally spotted him, talking and laughing with a couple of Lord Ruddock’s warriors, then moving smoothly away from them to chat with some clan members. She watched how easily he engaged people while making his way toward a narrow hall that only the servants made use of and how those he talked with remained in conversation with one another, not noticing when he moved away.

If she hadn’t kept focused on him, she would have missed how easily he had disappeared into the shadows without notice. She knew where the hall led and before hurrying off she stopped to speak with Snow.

“A moment with my sister, Eleanor,” Willow said when she reached them.

Eleanor nodded and left them to talk.

“What’s wrong?” Snow asked. “I can hear the worry in your voice.”

“I have no time to explain. I may have to leave for a few days, or not. I’m not sure, but if I do I need you to make sure Sara is looked after. You know what to do.”

“Slatter goes with you,” Snow said.

“You’re far too observant, but he doesn’t know that yet.”

“Stay safe and worry not about Sara,” Snow said and hugged her sister. “And make sure you return home.”

“You have my word on that,” Willow said and hurried off as teary-eyed as her sister.

Willow grabbed her cloak she had left on a bench earlier in the day and made her way through the hall that led to the kitchen. She snatched a sack off the wall hook and stuffed it with bread and cheese.

When the cook looked at her oddly, Willow held the sack up, “A secret, late night rendezvous.”

The cook laughed and nodded.

Once outside, she hurried to the stables, her booted-feet leaving footprints in the snow. She was glad the snow hadn’t turned heavy, though the continuous light snowfall had left enough on the ground to leave an imprint.

She heard faint sounds coming from the stable where her husband’s horse was sheltered and she kept her steps as light as she possibly could. The door stood open and she cautiously made her way inside.