It was wrong, and Alex would see that. She had faith in him. He was hurt and angry at her for her deception—as he had every right to be. He was thinking with his pride. But once he had a chance to calm down and think, he would do the right thing.

But he’d walked away on principle before. To him there was only right and wrong, and what she’d done was . . . wrong.

Oh God. Her heart sank. He had to forgive her. She couldn’t bear to consider the possibility that she might never see him again.

His friends needed him. She needed him. He was the only one who never saw it. Alex was their check, their conscience, their moral center. He reminded them of what was right and what was wrong, even when they didn’t want to see it.

He’d reminded her.

She used to know what was right, but men like her father and Sir Phillip made her forget. Just because others were without honor it was no excuse to forget her own. If she hadn’t gone too far already, that was the direction she was headed. But Alex had brought her back from a jaded abyss, restoring her faith in good, honorable men. A good, honorable man in war? Who didn’t need that? She wished someone like Alex had been there to speak for her mother.

“What are you looking at?”

Joan turned in the direction of the door that she had not heard open. “Alice!” she said, surprised. “You are back early.”

“You’ve been crying,” her cousin said, walking toward her. “What is wrong?”

Joan might ask her the same thing. Alice looked as if she’d had as little sleep as Joan. There were dark circles under her eyes and her normally creamy complexion was pale and wan. Sir Henry must have gotten back late from his “meeting” to try to catch the spy.

Instinct had served Joan well last night, but she knew she could not wait for Lachlan any longer. She would leave tonight.

“Alex left this morning,” Joan answered. “He rode out with Pembroke ahead of the army.”

“And you are worried for him?”

Joan felt a hitch in her chest. “Aye.”

Alice stared at her with unusual perceptiveness. “But that isn’t all, is it?”

Joan shook her head, her eyes suddenly swelling with tears. She’d been fighting so hard to control her emotions, but sympathy from an unexpected source caused the dam to break. All the emotion and all the fear that she’d been holding back came rushing out. She crumpled into a ball of tears. “I-it’s over,” she choked. “I think it’s over.”

Alice came forward to stand next to her, and seemingly unsure what to do, put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “What do you mean it’s over?”