She found her smile again. ‘We do.’

‘I shall see you in the morning.’ Hodge kissed her firmly on the forehead before marching away, each stride exuding confidence that he drew from goodness knew where.

The defenders tensed up as he approached—except Blackmane. He remained focused on the fire, ignoring Hodge entirely. She waited for Blackmane to look up again, somehow knowing he would. And sure enough, those dark eyes flashed in her direction once more.

I am sorry. He was going to be very unhappy with her in the morning.

He rose to his feet with a questioning look, like he was reading her mind. Fearing he could, she retreated to her tent, saying to the cranky guard, ‘Goodnight, Webb. I do hope it does not get too cold out here overnight.’

His reply came in the form of a grunt.

She ate the half-cold soup while standing, then cleaned her bowl with a chunk of brown bread—not because she was hungry but because she needed to keep her strength up.

That night she forced herself to sleep, but it was restless as she was afraid of oversleeping. It was a few hours before dawn when she peered out of her tent, relieved to find Webb asleep sitting up, his arms crossed and chin resting on his chest. She crept past him, eyes going to the defenders’ tent. Hadewaye was awake and keeping warm by the fire. There was always someone keeping watch. She was glad it was not Blackmane or she would not have gotten far. He seemed to sense her presence.

She made it all the way to the stables before she encountered her first hurdle.

‘What do you want a horse for?’ asked the marshal, suitably suspicious of the early morning request.

She raised her eyebrows. ‘I do not owe you an explanation.’

He looked past her. ‘Does His Lordship know you’re here?’

‘I am his guest, free to come and go as I please. Now, are you going to fetch me a horse, or will I be forced to wake His Lordship at this hour because you are being difficult?’

He appeared annoyed by the ultimatum. ‘Stay here.’

She was a bundle of nerves as she waited, and she had to make a conscious effort not to snatch the reins from his hands and run when he returned with a horse.

‘Thank you,’ she said as casually as she could manage.

He watched her mount. ‘I’m not going to get into trouble, am I?’

‘For assisting the future Countess of Hereford with a simple request? Is that not your job as marshal?’ She rode away before he changed his mind.

As tempting as it was to gallop to the gate screaming, ‘Open up,’ she walked the gelding calmly and prayed someone would let her out when she got there. Her stomach fell when she spotted Webb waiting for her at the gate, arms crossed in a very different way now.

‘Where in God’s name do you think you’re going at this time of the morning?’ he asked.