Page 52 of Lord of Loyalty

“Nothing.” He straightened and shook the tension from his shoulders. “There’s something I must do. Where might one obtain a trinket for a lady?”

Maybury smirked. “How about a colored ribbon to go around your true love’s snowy white neck?”

“That would be perfect—I thank you.”

It didn’t take long to find a peddler with a stock of good quality silk ribbon. Not sure about quantities, Will bought a couple of yards of the stuff, in dark forest green. Isobel could use it to suspend her locket around her neck, or for trimming her most fancy gowns. Assuming she had some of those—he didn’t know. In fact, there was a vast amount he didn’t know about Isobel Marston.

How could he have deserted her for so long while he foolishly licked his wounds? He should have returned the very next day and made an utter nuisance of himself, worn her down, convinced her of his sincerity.

Every woman responded well to an ardent suitor. Did they not?

“Cavendish—isn’t that one of your servants coming up at the run?”

Will scowled. Aye, indeed—it was Hal, the man he’d employed as a temporary replacement for Manners. What on earth was he doing at the goose fair, when he should be keeping an eye on the house?

“Sir William!”

His grim mood returned. More trouble—just when he’d begun to relax. “Whatever is it, man? No, wait, catch your breath a moment.” He drummed his fingers on the hilt of his sword as he waited.

“I beg your pardon, sir. Your neighbor, Master Mathieson, is blowing up a tempest at your house, and you’re needed right away.”

Maybury rolled his eyes. “That fellow is naught but trouble. I thought you’d silenced him?”

Will felt the anger rise in his chest. “What right has he to do so? He can have no complaint against me now, surely?”

“No justifiable one, sir.” Hal took a few quick breaths and straightened. “But he’s baying for your blood like a hound on the scent. He says you’ve run off with his daughter.”