He shook his head. “It’s all right. But there’s something else I need to mention to you.”

Ragna was grateful for the change of subject. “Go on.”

“Your maid Agnes is wearing a new ring.”

“Yes. Her husband gave it to her.”

“It’s made of silver wires twisted together, and has an amber stone.”

“It’s rather pretty.”

“It put me in mind of the pendant that was stolen from your courier Adelaide. It was made of silver wires with an amber stone.”

Ragna was startled. “I never noticed that!”

“I remember thinking that the amber would have suited you.”

“But how could Agnes have a ring made of Adelaide’s pendant?”

“The pendant was stolen and refashioned to disguise it. The question is how her husband got it.”

“She’s married to Offa, the reeve of Mudeford.” Ragna began to see the connections. “He probably bought it from a jeweler in Combe. That jeweler knows the go-between, and the go-between knows where Ironface is to be found.”

“Yes,” said Edgar.

“The sheriff needs to question Offa.”

“Yes,” said Edgar.

“Offa may have bought the ring innocently.”

“Yes,” said Edgar.

“I don’t want to risk getting Agnes’s husband in trouble.”

“You have to,” said Edgar.

Edgar escorted Ragna back to the center of the village and left her surrounded by a crowd. He slipped away and returned to the quarry. He set Buttress to graze at the edge of the wood. Then, at last, he lay down in his house and thought about that kiss.

He had been surprised and discomfited. He knew he must have blushed. He had jumped away. She had seen all of that, and had apologized for embarrassing him. But what she saw was only the surface. Something else happened, deep down, and he had managed to keep it hidden. When Ragna’s lips touched his, he had found himself instantly and totally overwhelmed by love for her.

A clap of thunder, a bolt of lightning, a man stricken in a second—

No, it had only seemed that way. Lying in the rushes by his fireplace, alone, eyes closed, he examined his soul and saw that he had fallen in love with her long ago. For years he had told himself that he had lost his heart to Sungifu, and no one could take her place. But at some point—he could not tell when—he had begun to love Ragna. He had not known it at the time, but it seemed obvious now.

In his memory he relived the last four years and realized that Ragna had become the most important person in his life. They helped each other. He liked nothing better than talking to her—how long had that been his favorite occupation? He admired her brains and her determination and especially the way she combined unchallengeable authority with a common touch that made people love her.

He liked her, he admired her, and she was beautiful. That was not the same as the fire of passion, but it was like a pile of summer-dry wood that would burst into flames with a single spark, and today’s kiss had been the spark. He wanted to kiss her again, kiss her all day, all night—