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“Maybe if Father had just let me marry her when I was twenty-one,” carried on Oswald. “I would have turned out differently.”

Mason frowned. “How so?”

Oswald shook his head.

“Whatever it is, it’s not insurmountable,” said Mason slowly.

Oswald looked up at him sharply, but said nothing.

“You remember when you said that to me?” asked Mason. “Your scraggy bastard brother, who didn’t know how to hold a sword, and had to beg for a place in the practice hall.”

“You never begged for anything in your life.” Oswald smiled fleetingly.

“Only because you would never stand for it. I knew who it was who looked out for me,” said Mason. “Not Father. You.”

Oswald said nothing.

“If anyone ever called you a liar, I would strike him down where he stood,” said Mason. His voice had an undercurrent of emotion which made his brother wince.

Oswald opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Alright, maybe not everything,” he conceded grudgingly. “But a good deal.”

“All men lie,” insisted Mason. “They just don’t all torture themselves about it afterward.”

Oswald closed his eyes briefly. “You just told me I was a shit husband, Mason.”

His brother gave a grim smile. “Aye, so I did. Maybe I didn’t realize it would send you into a pit of despair.” He shrugged. “All men are shit husbands, at first. Even me.”

Oswald smiled reluctantly. “I remember.”

“Humph,” grunted Mason. “You derived great amusement from my struggles, as I recall.”

Oswald’s smile twisted. “You were pretty bad at it.”

“Careful,” Mason cautioned him.

“This marriage. It didn’t start…as it should,” admitted Oswald.

“Well, no,” agreed Mason scratching his chin. “You jilted her. She worshipped the ground you walked on and you barely noticed her.”

“Not that,” said Oswald irritably. “I mean, that wasn’t right either, but that wasn’t my choice.” Gods damn it, he hadn’t even considered that first wrong he’d done her! “I meant, by trapping her this time around.”

“Is she holding it against you?” asked Mason.

There was a heavy pause before Oswald answered. “She doesn’t know.”

His brother’s eyebrows rose at that. “You might want to keep it that way,” recommended Mason.

“Would you really keep Linnet in the dark?” Oswald asked.

Mason gave a laugh. “I’d do all manner of unscrupulous things to keep my wife by my side. Never doubt it.”

Oswald found he didn’t.

The tent flap opened again and Roland came in, stamping his feet. “It’s bitter out there,” he complained. “Whose idea was this wretched camp-out?” He shot an accusatory look at Oswald.

“Mine,” Oswald admitted. “I can’t seem to stop making bad decisions lately.”

“Are you talking about your marriage?” asked Roland flinging himself into a chair. “Because if you are, I think that’s a damned insult to Fenella. If you ask me,” he said fixing his brother with a stern eye. “Marrying her was one of your better ones!”