She didn’t think they suspected anything, but she couldn’t be sure. More likely it was merely a result of the increased effort by the king to find the spy and the tightening of information as the war drew near. But she couldn’t shake the sense of disquiet.

Disquiet that only increased when she went to town to send a message to Lachlan that she needed to speak to him (not only to warn him about the betrothal but to start building the bridge that might allow Alex to return) and had the distinct feeling of someone following her. When she returned to the castle and saw a few of Despenser’s men pass through the gate a short while after, she felt the first chill of fear.

She cursed herself again for the mistake she’d made with Sir Hugh. She never should have targeted him in the first place, but to make him feel a fool by appearing to discard him for Alex . . . that had not been smart.

He was a dangerous enemy out for blood, as she’d seen in his expression when he’d congratulated her on her engagement on the day of the hawking excursion. She’d dismissed the chill that had raced through her then, but now seeing his men . . . it didn’t feel like a coincidence.

She knew she had to be careful—very careful.

There was one piece of good news. Upon returning to her chamber, Joan learned from Alice that Sir Hugh the elder had arrived with some additional men from Wales. Her former guardian had always been kind to her and had even tried to stand up for her with the king when Sir Henry first raised doubts as to her paternity. She would never forget the show of loyalty, and it was with true fondness that she returned his big hug at the midday meal under the watchful glare of his son beside him.

Before letting her go, the older man insisted that she come to his rooms later that evening (once he’d seen to his duties to the king) where she could tell him everything that she’d been doing since he’d seen her last, “including more about this knight who has won your hand.”

She ignored the younger Sir Hugh’s comment that from what he’d heard, she’d been “doing quite a lot,” and promised the older knight to see him later.

With the queen’s arrival, she and her bevy of ladies-in-waiting had taken over the higher tables, so Joan retreated to a trestle table farther away from the dais to join her cousin Margaret among some of Sir Henry’s household knights.