Joan would not falsely mourn the death of Phillip, and she was relieved that Alex had not killed him on her behalf, but she was horrified at the mess in which she’d embroiled him. It was a risk going to the king and Pembroke. It was Alex’s word against a dead man’s. That he’d taken the risk, however, didn’t surprise her. Hiding, lies, and covering things up weren’t his way. He would do the right thing no matter the personal risk or sacrifice.

She felt a flicker of disquiet that she forced away. He would never betray her—even in the name of “right.”

“And they believed you?” she asked.

He gave her a wry smile, the first break in the grim exterior since he’d entered the room. “Aye. I suspect they knew our disagreement had something to do with you, but it seems my reputation comes in handy on occasion. They both knew I would not kill a man in cold blood—I imagine they would have been rather shocked to know how close I’d come to doing just that. But I did have some unexpected help from your former guardian.”

“Sir Hugh?”

He nodded. “Apparently this isn’t the first time Gifford has been accused of putting a knife in someone’s back. He was seen fighting with a Welsh soldier, and when the man later showed up dead—with a knife wound to the back—Gifford was widely thought responsible but no one could prove it.” He paused. “The Welshman reputedly had a very beautiful wife.”

Joan’s mouth pursed with disgust, although she was not surprised. She was glad, however, very glad that Alex was not in trouble because of her.

And Sir Phillip was out of her life forever. She would never again have to see the mocking eyes of the man who’d raped her. Was it so horrible to be relieved?

“Then it’s over?” she asked, not daring to believe it.

He nodded and opened his arms. She rushed into them as she’d been wanting to do since he walked in the door. “Aye, my love, it’s over.”

She allowed herself to be swallowed in his embrace and take all the comfort he offered. His chest was a rock, his arms an anchor, and all that strength and solidity seemed to flow through her. She’d never had to or wanted to rely on anyone like this before, but it was . . . nice. She felt her pulse slow, felt the chill leave her bones, and felt her frayed nerves begin to unwind.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled away and took a step back. If he was holding her while she did this, she might cry. After all Alex had done for her, he deserved to know the truth about the man he’d killed.