Leave it to his sister to speak the obvious. He pulled away gently. “When it heals, I’ll be sword fighting again.”
One tear trickled down her cheek, but she turned away, calling for supper to be brought. Throughout the evening, news was brought down of Katherine’s labor, and the household was abuzz with worries and hopes. Margery and Isabel sat side by side before the fire, awkward and silent, while James sat at a table and drank.
He wished to hell the evening was over, that he didn’t have to be worried that Katherine could die. He knew he was emptying the pitcher of ale too quickly, that both Margery and Isabel were watching him. Let them watch. Margery knew damn well that he shouldn’t be here. He and Reynold had said all they would ever say to each other on the day James had agreed to break the betrothal contract.
As midnight approached, people drowsed on their benches or spoke in low tones. Isabel had fallen asleep at the table, her head pillowed in her arms, and Margery was dozing before the fire.
Reynold descended the staircase. Dozens of voices spoke at once, but he raised his arms for quiet, smiled, and said, “My wife has had a son.”
The cheers went up and people slapped his back, or took his hand in congratulations. James sank lower in his chair as Margery flung herself into Reynold’s arms.
As the servants went off to bed one by one, Reynold turned and looked directly at James, his smile fading.
James slowly rose to his feet as his brother approached the table. Margery stood between them for a moment, then sighed and said, “I’ll take my leave of you gentlemen and peek in on the baby before Katherine is asleep. Can I trust you both to behave yourselves?”
Reynold smiled and leaned to kiss her cheek. “We shall be fine. Katherine is waiting for you.”
James saw Margery give him a warning frown before she departed. The hall, lit by candles and a dying fire, was now deserted except for the two brothers—and Isabel, still asleep at the table.
Reynold looked down on her, and James felt himself bristling with defensiveness. Then he saw Reynold’s gaze come back to him—and widen. “What happened to your hand?”
“In my clumsiness, I fell from a horse and was thoroughly stomped upon. You can now claim you’re the best swordsman in the family—but you might have to fight my wife for the honor.”
Reynold’s eyes narrowed. “That was not even amusing, James. You are lucky to be alive.”
“So I’ve been told.”
There was an awkward silence until Reynold said, “When I heard about your wedding and asked why I had not been invited, Margery would only say that the king’s priest married you quickly.”
James studied Reynold, trying to discern the truth. “You would have come to my wedding?”
“You are my brother. That will never change.”
James poured him a tankard of ale, then refilled his own. “I thought everything had changed after the war.”
Reynold sat down on one side of the table, and James took the bench opposite him.
Reynold sipped his ale for a moment before saying, “Some things cannot be the same, but perhaps we can move beyond. Could we do that?”
“I’m not sure how to get beyond after all that happened during the war.”
Reynold smiled. “I can start with one thing. My wife’s family holdings, and mine, survived the war mostly unscathed, and much of that has to do with you and your forethought.”
Stunned, James cleared his throat. “That’s not true. You both pledged your allegiance to King Henry—it was all he wanted.”
“No, I do not think so. But I have come to understand that you chose your allegiances not for selfish reasons, but to benefit your family. And it worked—but I was too enraged by your betrayal to see that you made the hard decisions where you had to.”
Relief spread through him. “I did not wish to betray you—and I certainly meant Katherine no harm.”
“I know that now,” Reynold said in a soft voice. “But I had been feeling great guilt in loving her, and it was overwhelming to discover that you were behind her capture, regardless of your intentions.”
James remained silent, unsure what his brother wanted from him.
Reynold looked at Isabel’s bowed head. “It would ease me greatly to know that you were happy. But your wife seems unlike the woman I thought you’d marry.”
“Why does everyone keep telling me this?” James asked lightly. “Our marriage did not begin well—surely you heard that Isabel robbed me.”
Reynold gave a rueful smile. “I did hear rumors.”
