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Of course, he was right.

“Tomorrow,” he tried to pacify him, “Saxford’s future will be—”

“Nay, something else.”

Tristan remained silent, watching the men as they jested with one another while they ate.

“The woman.”

Tristan folded his arms. “She has a name.”

“Hannah. A most unusual name for a woman.”

“Aye, but not for a man?” he jested.

Walter did not laugh. “You know more than you are telling us,” he said. It was a fact, not an accusation.

Tristan sighed. “I would tell you if I could. But on this, you will just have to trust me.”

The older man grunted and bent down to pick up a stick. He pulled out his knife and began to cut thin pieces of it away. He’d seen his marshal do that same thing hundreds of times before. Walter had difficulty remaining still for long.

“Will you marry her?”

No other question would have surprised him more.

“Maybe,” he answered honestly. Though it was likely she would not have him, his wishes had not changed. “She’s accustomed to . . . other places. Not staying in one place for long.” It was as close to the truth as he could get.

“She is unlike other women,” the marshal said. “But I like her. She . . . knows things.”

Walter had managed to surprise him. He liked few people, and trusted even fewer. It seemed Cook was not the only person at Saxford to see what he had, to understand Hannah was unlike any other.

“As do I.”

In fact, he loved her. Tristan loved everything about Hannah Sutton. She was beautiful, of course, but also passionate and kind. And intelligent. He smiled. She’d make an excellent steward. If she were lady of Saxford, she and Gerard would get along well. She did know things, as Walter said, though he could not tell him how.

Tristan froze.

He’d dismissed her. Though she had proven herself capable in so many ways—from dealing with Cook to acclimating herself to an entirely different century—Tristan had not listened to her advice about Sutherland.

She was not a woman of his time, which was one of the things he loved most about her, and yet he’d treated her as he would a simpering lady. But could he really do as she asked? He had spent the last ten years proving his strength to everyone around him. Could he really put himself, and his people, in such a position of weakness?

How much do you really value her advice?

He looked at Walter, who seemed to sense Tristan was about to say something he would not like. And he was right. Tristan knew what he had to do.