“That’s shite. The only thing that would have changed was that we would not have won the war. If you’d come back any earlier, you wouldn’t have had the intelligence that you did to convince Bruce to fight. Joan still would have been arrested.”

Alex didn’t want to hear Boyd’s blasted reason right now. “I could have protected her.”

Boyd—the arse—laughed. “How? Did you intend to take on the entire English army yourself? They were coming for her whether you were there or not. All you would have done is get yourself killed or tossed down there with her.”

“I should have sent her here to my mother or at least made sure she got away safely.”

“It was too late for that. Margaret told you she was being watched even before you left. There wasn’t time to get her away.”

Alex shot him a look of fury. “You have all the bloody answers, don’t you?”

“Took you long enough to see the light.”

Alex told him to bugger off, but Boyd just laughed. “If you are done with the self-flagellation, you might want to work on the foul temper before the wedding or the lass might reconsider.”

Christ, Alex thought, dragging his fingers through his hair. The bastard was probably right. “I’ve been a little out of sorts.”

Boyd laughed again. “That’s an understatement. You’ve made Viper seem pleasant the past two days, not to mention challenging Chief like that. What the hell were you thinking?”

Alex winced. “I wasn’t. I should probably apologize.”

“Aye, but if I were you I’d wait until after the wedding when the drink has been flowing for a while.”

Alex quirked a brow, surprised. “You are all staying? I assumed Bruce would be anxious for you to get back.”

Boyd shook his head, looking at him as if he were an idiot again. “He is, but he’ll understand. You think we’d miss this?”

Of course, how could Alex have forgotten. Joan was one of them. He shook his head. “I guess not.”

Boyd frowned, suddenly solemn. “Besides, I won’t be going back right away. I have to see Rosalin and tell her in person.”

Alex nodded in understanding, not envying Boyd’s task. It turned out that Rosalin’s urgency to visit her brother had been prescient. Lord Robert Clifford, Boyd’s former enemy turned brother-in-law, had fallen along with Sir Giles d’Argentan in a noble, but ultimately failed, attempt to rally the troops after seeing the king safely away.

“She will be devastated.”

Boyd nodded. “Tom”—Boyd and Rosalin’s firstborn son who would be two in November—“and the new babe when it comes will help. But you know how close she and Clifford were. I’m just glad she had a chance to say goodbye.”

Alex’s brows shot up. “I thought you’d be furious when you heard.”