Isabel let a few moments pass before moving her horse closer to Blackmane’s—if that were possible. ‘Right place, right time. Or wrong place, wrong time. That depends on who you ask.’

‘I’m asking you.’

‘Then the latter.’

He kept his eyes ahead.

‘It was a little over five years ago. The marcher lords’ final campaign,’ she continued. ‘Their last attempt to salvage what civility remained in Carmarthenshire in hope of remaining in their own homes.’ She paused. ‘Maddock House was one of the few households in the region still functioning. After my father died, Lord Tompkin took it upon himself to use it as an army base.’ Her eyes went to Hodge’s back. ‘My father defended that house until he drew his last breath. Then it was only the three of us and a handful of workers who were like family.’

It was well known that the majority of workers in the region had laid down their tools when the food had run out, joining various groups believing they would be better fed. Sadly, that was not the case. Those groups then had to find ways to survive. Laws became irrelevant, as did the borders.

‘So the earl asked your widowed mother to return to Hampstead Keep with him as his wife?’ Blackmane asked.

‘Yes.’

‘And you want to know what became of Maddock House?’

She shook her head. ‘I already know what became of it. It burned down the night before we left for Hampstead Keep.’

Blackmane blinked slowly as that piece of the puzzle fell into place. ‘I gather that was a factor in your mother’s decision.’

‘The fact that she was homeless in a dangerous region with two dependent children and a rich lord was offering her a safe home? Yes, that was a factor.’

Blackmane was silent for a minute. ‘How did the house burn down?’

Isabel edged her horse closer, her leg brushing his. ‘Lord Hodge was at his father’s side throughout that campaign. He was staying at the house and woke to horses. Most likely rebels. They rode away when he went outside to investigate, and when he returned indoors, the kitchen was ablaze. It spread so quickly.’ She reached up and touched her throat, as though she were breathing the smoke in once more.

He normally avoided these conversations because the risk of empathy was too high. The only reason he was able to function and perform at such an elite level was because he had done away with every emotion except loyalty. But the question came out anyway. ‘Did everyone make it out?’

She shook her head, and he felt the weight of the silence that followed.

‘Lord Tompkin withdrew his men shortly after,’ she said when she could speak again.

Blackmane nodded slowly. ‘And the wastelands were born.’

‘And the wastelands were born.’

He edged his horse away from hers. Their knees brushing every second stride was proving distracting, which was never a good thing when travelling through rebel territory.

Hodge looked over his shoulder. ‘Beloved, come see the crops.’