Nay, it wasn’t marriage he wanted from her, and as what he did want wasn’t an option, he wasn’t going to pick up Despenser’s challenge—no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Aye, it’s just a scratch, my lady, though I thank you for your concern.”

Despenser’s look of satisfaction—of thinking he’d made Alex back down—was almost too much to take.

As Alex’s pride had withstood about as much thrashing as it could, he excused himself and moved away.

Joan Comyn wasn’t for him, but leaving her to Despenser didn’t sit well at all.

Chapter 8

8

THE EXCHANGE BETWEEN Sir Hugh and Alex had not gone unnoticed by Joan. She understood that a challenge was being made, and that it had been rejected. Or rather, she had been rejected.

As she didn’t want anything to do with Alex Seton, she didn’t know why she felt a sharp pinch in her chest.

Maybe it was because she suspected his reasons. The always-do-what-is-right “Sir Galahad” as MacRuairi called him (it wasn’t a compliment) wouldn’t want a woman like her. Well, he might want her, but not in an honorable intentions kind of way—the only way she knew he would consider. To him, she was impure, unchaste, and thus, unworthy.

The fact that it was true made that pinch even sharper.

As little as she liked being a bone between two men, she liked Sir Hugh’s possessiveness and his questioning of her “relationship” with Alex even less.

She masked her annoyance, however, and assured him—honestly—that she barely knew the man. He didn’t seem convinced, and she was forced to explain that Alex’s “protectiveness” stemmed from a previous family connection.

“Your father?” Sir Hugh asked.

She shook her head. Knowing it was dangerous but unavoidable, she admitted, “Nay, my mother.”

She’d spent years distancing herself from the “rebel” Isabella MacDuff, severing any connection between them, and she hated reminding anyone of it.

His eyes sharpened with something that made her wariness seem warranted. “Seton knew your mother? How? When?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.”

He stroked his short, pointed beard thoughtfully. “I may just do that.”

She didn’t like the speculative edge to his voice and was glad when he let the subject drop. But she couldn’t help but feel that she’d made a mistake. She didn’t want Alex Seton’s scrutiny, but she did not want to make trouble for him either.

And Sir Hugh Despenser was trouble. She had no doubt about that.

More trouble than he was worth.

Joan had escaped detection for so long because she knew when to back away, and every instinct was clamoring for her to do that now.

She always listened to her instincts.