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by me.”
    Somehow that did not sound right. “But you have my father’s reputation.”
    “So far my methods have served me well,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “I admit this is the one time that it does not. I value your opinion. I want your opinion.”
    She knew he valued her opinion only if it mirrored his opinion of himself. “And in public?” she asked.
    He smiled. “No man wants to be contradicted in public, especially by his lady.”
    Fair enough, she supposed.
    A turtledove cooed from the woods. Zipporah looked up and saw movement along the roadside.
    Peter. It had to be.
    She scanned the forest and saw him leaning now against an oak tree, arms crossed over his chest as if he had not a care in the world. He was wearing a dark green tunic that blended with the forest. Peter motioned with a nod of his head into the woods. She waved him away and he disappeared.
    Zipporah glanced at Gilburn, but he was looking forward, an expression of contentment on his face. Until Peter rode out on his stallion, halting in the middle of the road.
    Sir Gilburn’s outtake of breath could have felled a tree. “What does he think he is doing?”
    Zipporah shrugged innocently.
    “I will take care of this.” Gilburn nudged his stallion forward to face Peter.
    “Sir Gilburn.” Peter rested his forearm casually on the saddle pommel. “So good to see you this morning.”
    “Do you not have anything better to do than harass my lady?”
    “Harass?”
    Zipporah walked her horse up to them.
    “I am sorry about this, my lady,” Gilburn said. “I will be rid of him posthaste.” He lowered his voice. “I know he reminds you of Edward, and that it upsets you. Just give me the word. I will see that he never steps foot in Havendell again.”
    Was that what Gilburn thought? “It is hard,” she said, playing along. Zipporah remembered her mother’s advice and chose her words carefully. “However, he brings my mother comfort in her grief, and I cannot take that from her.”
    Peter lifted his brows, looking smug and mischievous at the same time.
    “If he distresses you in any way, my lady,” Gilburn said. “Let me know.”
    “I will be fine, assuming he keeps his distance.” She cast a volley at Peter with her eyes. He grinned back.
    “You may continue on with us, Sir Peter,” Gilburn said, his words clipped. “But if you vex Lady Zipporah, know that I will have you removed from Havendell permanently, despite what her mother might think of you.” Gilburn was sitting stiff and irritated in the saddle. His stallion pinned back his ears in response to his master’s mood.
    “I will ride back to Havendell with you,” Peter said. “I have business there.”
    “We are not yet going back,” Zipporah countered.
    “Then I will see you out.”
    “The village idiot has arrived,” Gilburn said, raking his hand over his face. “We might as well go home.”
    She turned her gelding after Gilburn, peeking over her shoulder at Peter. Sunlight filtering through branches showered him, like yesterday, but now he was covered completely in gold. Her mind was playing tricks or her, and in that moment, she saw the face of the child she would never know. Heard her laughter. Suckled her at her breast. Peter’s gaze questioned hers and she tore her eyes away.
    He closed in on one side of her. Sir Gilburn on the other. Sir Mark was tailing them. At least she would not have to endure Gilburn’s full attention anymore. Once she arrived home, she would go to her bedchamber and bar the door behind her.
    “How fares your father this morning?” Peter asked.
    “The same as yesterday, and the day before. He wakes long enough to eat a little, and that is all. My mother and I have to feed him by hand.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “You do not have to be polite to him,” Gilburn said.
    Zipporah had almost forgotten about Gilburn already. She needed to be more careful. “It is for the best,” she said. “Sir Peter is an ally, is he