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the war, making him Keeper of Scotland, he’d also appointed him governor to one of the most important castles in the Marches. The castles of Berwick in the east, Carlisle in the west, and Roxburgh in the middle formed a key defensive band across the border to prevent the Scots from invading England.
    She bit her lip. At least the castles
had
done so until last summer. Robert Bruce’s raids into Cumbria and Northumberland had devastated the countryside, striking terror in the hearts of the English, from which they were still clearly recovering. Fear hung in the air, and the names of his fierce raiders were bandied about in terrified whispers, as if saying them aloud would conjure up the devil himself.
    Douglas. Randolph.
Boyd
.
    A sickly feeling swam over her.
Don’t think of it
…
    “Two thousand pounds?” she heard Cliff say, clearly furious. “He must be mad. Send the man away. I’ll hear no more of their demands.”
    Rosalin waited until the men shuffled out, and then entered.
    Seeing who it was, Cliff looked up and smiled, lifting some of the weariness from his face. “Ah, Rosie, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
    “Is everything all right?” Clearly, it wasn’t. Her brother was much changed since she’d seen him last. The war had taken its toll. He was still handsome, but he looked older than his two and thirty years. And harder.
    He waved off her concern. “Nothing that can’t be handled.” He motioned for her to sit. “So what is it that you need?”
    She could see him trying not to smile as she explained. By the end, he was shaking his head. “I know you told her she was too young to ride, but really, Cliff, she’s seven years old. I don’t see any good reason why a seven-year-old girl is too young and a five-year-old boy is not.”
    Leaning back in his chair, Cliff studied her over the length of the big wooden table that he used as a desk. “You’ve been here two days, and she’s already found her champion? I wondered how long it would take her to find her kindred soul.”
    Rosalin’s brow furrowed, not understanding. “Kindred soul?”
    “You don’t see it?” He laughed. “For God’s sake, she’s just like you, Rosie-lin, always rushing to someone’s defense, always trying to right every wrong.”
    She frowned, taken aback. “I don’t do that.”
    That only made him laugh harder. “God, it’s good to have you here. I’ve missed you. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit you more in London.”
    “You’ve been busy.” It was an understatement. In the past five years, since Robert Bruce had returned from the grave to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of defeat, her brother had barely had a free moment. She’d seen him only twice in the six years since that one fateful trip to Scotland.
    “I wasn’t sure Sir Humphrey would ever give you leave to visit,” he said dryly.
    She hadn’t been sure either. The earl had insisted that it was too dangerous, and…
    Heat rose to her cheeks. “I think he was waiting for me to…ah…decide.”
    Cliff’s expression changed. “And you have decided? This is whom you wish to marry? I will not have Hereford force you. I don’t care if you are the ripe old age of thirty—I’ll not have you tied to a man you don’t care for.”
    “Two and twenty isn’t as ancient as all that.” She laughed. “Nay, you need not worry that Sir Humphrey has forced me into anything. He’s been very patient. Although between you and me, I think both he and the king despaired that I would ever pick anyone.”
    “And you’re sure Sir Henry is the one?”
    Something in his voice caught her attention. She studied his face, but her brother hid his thoughts well. “Do you not like him, Cliff?”
    “The question is not whether
I
like him, but whether
you
do, little one.”
    “I do,” she said with a soft smile. “Very much.”
    Though she’d known Sir Henry de Spenser for only a few months, he had bowled her over with his gallantry and