She was so busy studying the king that she failed to notice the man who rode in behind him. Only the sudden ripple of whispers racing through the crowd and Margaret’s elbow in her ribs alerted her to his presence.

At the sight of the yellow surcoat with the red wyvern, three crescents, and royal double tressure, her breath and heart caught somewhere in her throat.

“Seton is with the king?” she heard Sir Henry exclaim in outrage from a few feet away. “Why did I know nothing of this?”

Joan was curious as well, but the answer would have to wait.

Although perhaps not for long. Alex seemed to be scanning the crowd looking for someone. When his eyes locked on hers, she realized who it was.

The fierce intensity in the dark blue depths caught her in a hold from which she could not turn. Her skin prickled as every one of the tiny hairs on her arms seemed to stick up. Was it alarm, awareness, or a combination of both?

Something was happening . . .

After dismounting, Alex said a few words to the king and headed right for her. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, and she didn’t take a breath for the entire time it took him to close the distance between them—even then it came out shallowly and unevenly.

He bowed formally before her. Aware of the eyes upon them, she executed a hasty and self-conscious curtsey.

“My lady, I would like to speak to you. In private, if you will.”

Joan searched his face for an explanation but came up empty.

“What is the meaning of this, Seton?” Sir Henry interrupted angrily. “You most certainly will not.”

Suddenly Joan realized the king himself had come to stand beside Alex. Edward had the oddest smile on his face as he addressed Sir Henry. “The lad will say his piece,” the king said with a wink in her direction. Edward had always been kind to her the few times their paths had crossed in the past—guilt perhaps over what his father had done to her mother and what he’d done to her in declaring her illegitimate—but still the playfulness surprised her. “Come, Sir Henry,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument. He was the king, after all, even if many in his realm wished otherwise. “I feel as if I’ve been riding across the deserts of Outremer and need some wine to quench my thirst. We shall talk.”

Unable to object, Sir Henry followed the king, looking back occasionally at Alex and Joan.