“Can I ask you something?” she asked once she was convinced they were alone.

“No, I cannot marry you,” Reginold lamented, throwing an arm over his face. “My daughter would murder me.” Once he realized he got no reaction, his tone softened. “Of course, what is it?”

“Jon Bassett.” She tried to hide any disdain for the name. “A few months ago, was he ever … in any sort of trouble? Did the captain come down on him for anything?”

Reginold of Dunmow had a witty response for everything, which made it worrisome when he did not. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing,” she tried to shrug it off. “Just something I heard.”

“What did you hear?”

“Nothing, forget I said anything.”

Reginold studied her, his theatrical characteristics turned serious, razor-sharp. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a secret, but nor is it something we’d want to be circulating as rumor. Captain had been grooming Bassett for command, but that stopped on the abrupt. Nothing scandalous there, as there wasn’t anything official about it, and the captain is certainly allowed to change his mind. The salacious part is Devon of York.”

Arable found herself leaning forward. “The new recruit?”

Reginold nodded. Arable had barely interacted with the newest member of Gisbourne’s regiment, but he had exactly as much of an impression on her as a wet blanket. “Devon had only been in the Common Guard for a week. Odd choice to promote him to the Captain’s Regiment, by anyone’s judgment?”

“I would think so.”

“Young fellow, and green as they come. Skittish as a stray cat, but here he is. And it may be just my imagination, but the captain’s curious protective of him. Almost as if he’s grooming Devon for something more, the way he used to do with Bassett.”

So Bassett had been punished. It was an odd relief. “That sounds very awkward for everyone.”

The idea seemed surprising to Reginold. “Oh, I suppose. Been a bit odd, lately, yes. But such are the rolls of the dice, you abide. So your turn then. What do you know about it?”

She recoiled. “Oh, nothing, just rumor, as you say!” She tried her hand at a girlish giggle but it came out something more like a dying piglet. She packed up the rest of the food and handed it to him. “Do you just want the rest of this?”

“Alright, keep your secrets,” he said slyly, taking the bundle from her. If he meant to say anything else, he abandoned it when he glanced at something over her shoulder. “Actually, give one to him, would you? Our visitor from the war.”

He returned one package to her and shouldered the rest, leaving the stables as she turned around.

What she saw froze every nerve in her body.