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himself. But it was a weak reason to give Simon.
    “Perhaps the king just wants me out from underfoot.”
    Simon seemed amused. “So he sends you here to irritate us.”
    “Lady Eloise certainly is not pleased to see me again.”
    “Given what happened … before, and the shock of hearing the charges against her father, I cannot blame her. I thought she handled the news rather well.”
    So Simon noticed her uncharacteristically mild outburst, too. ’Twasn’t like Eloise to not fully speak her mind. Perhaps the earl’s presence had subdued her volatile nature. Still, he didn’t doubt a storm brewed, ’twas only a matter of time before thunder roared.
    As they approached the inner gate, Sir Marcus strode toward them, frowning mightily. “Is it true?”
    Roland didn’t doubt by now everyone in the castle knew why the outer gate was closed.
    Simon gave Marcus a brief explanation of what occurred, then ordered him into the hall with the admonition to keep a close eye on Eloise. He obeyed, but only after grumbling that the earl went too far in lowering the portcullis, that surely Sir John would return from hunting shortly and set all to rights.
    Roland admitted ’twas possible John had truly gone hunting. Several people had seen him ride out the gate with a squire at his side and a falcon on his arm. ’Twas also nigh impossible to believe John would go far from Lelleford without telling either Simon or Marcus, men he trusted implicitly, about why he left and where he was going.
    As they made the rounds of the bailey, gathering up the other knights, it became clear that everyone truly believed Sir John was out chasing a heron. Still, though he had no firm reason to disbelieve the tale, Roland couldn’t shake the feeling that John had known the earl was coming for him and taken flight.
    His musings ended upon entering the hall.
    No earl. No Marcus. No Eloise.
    The hair on the back of his neck itched.
    Simon waved forward a page. “Where is Lady Eloise?”
    The page glanced at the stairs leading to the upper floor. “She took the earl up to his lordship’s accounting room.”
    Simon’s countenance turned stormy. “Is Marcus with her?”
    “Nay. The earl sent Marcus to find Brother Walter.”
    Roland headed for the stairs, Simon right behind him, wishing Eloise had taken his warning to heart. But then, if Kenworth ordered her to show him John’s accounting room, she would have no choice but to obey. If he didn’t already know where the accounting room was located, Roland would have found it by following the sound of Kenworth’s raised voice.
    “I have every right! ’Tis your father, the traitor, who no longer has rights!”
    Roland turned into the small room. Kenworth sat behind the oak desk, scrolls scattered across it. Eloise stood with her back to the door, her arms crossed and spine rigid.
    “My father is no traitor,” she stated.
    “I have proof otherwise, and if there is more proof among your father’s documents, I intend to find it.” Kenworth looked around Eloise. “Ah, St. Marten. Has Hamelin been found?”
    Eloise spun around, her ire fading to concern.
    “Not as yet. At least none of the patrols have returned that I know of.”
    Eloise’s relief contrasted sharply with Kenworth’s frustration. The earl waved a dismissive hand.
    “Go. Roland, her ladyship and the knights are to be placed under guard in the hall. The next piece of news I want to hear is that John Hamelin is captured.”
    “As you say, my lord.” Wanting nothing more than to get Eloise out of Kenworth’s reach, he extended a hand, palm up. “Come, milady.”
    She stared at his outstretched hand, then with a look of loathing walked right past him. The slight stung, but he let it pass without reaction. To Eloise he must seem the enemy, a usurper of her father’s authority over her home. That she resented his mission wasn’t unexpected.
    ’Struth, he’d been sent here to oversee the holding in the king’s name, not to