A princess on the run, Briar Aldrich has no choice but to take on the role of scullery maid when Lord Sterling Huntington stumbles upon her in the woods and doesn't recognize her. But how safe is she actually in his home? And how safe is her heart?
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"We are traveling to visit another lord of the countryside and had hoped to stop in for a rest and replenish our horses before we're on our way," the short man was saying. Lord Huntington was staring at the symbol on the man's chest. He knew what it meant. The fact that they would wear it so boldly on their chest in such a proud display made him nearly boil over with rage. But he only clenched his fist at his side and forced a smile for the traitors.
"I don't think-" Lord Huntington began but he was interrupted.
"Of course you may find rest here," Lady Cora said from his side as she exited the ladies tea room alone, having undoubtedly heard the arrival of their visitors from her place within. Lord Huntington turned to her. There was a warning in her eyes. "My brother never turns away those in need and I am sure he does not wish to offend the lord you serve. Who was that again?"
Clever.
"Oh, we don't serve him," the man said. "We serve another. We only have business with him is all."
The man shifted his stance so that his sword was visible at his side. The threat was clear and made upon him in his own house. He felt the rage again but his sister remained calm at his side.
"Lucy!" she called and a moment later the girl was scrambling up the stairs from the servant's quarters. "Take these men to the guest suites. Get them whatever they need."
Lucy nodded and ushered the men out of the foyer toward the stairs to the guest suites. When they had gone, Sterling turned on his sister.
"I don't want them in my home," he snapped.
"You know you cannot turn them away," she responded, her voice low.
He shook his head and pushed past her, up the stairs and toward his office. He knew she was right. No matter what he thought of the rebels, one thing was certain. The King's protection was in the capital, far away from here, but these rebels were in the country, at his doorstep now. Other noble houses had fallen prey to the fear that they inspired. They were a collection of armed men dedicated to the cause of treason and they roamed the countryside under the heavy implication that anyone who would side with the King would be met with force. As much as Lord Huntington hated himself for it, he knew his sister was right. Angering the rebels would only mean risking the lives of the good people of Northbrook, people who were his responsibility. He had reached his office. He punched the top of his desk in frustration.
"My Lord?" someone asked from behind him. He turned to see Arthur, the dedicated boy who was always at his service, watching him, concerned, from the doorway.
"Fetch me Edwin and Douglas," he told the boy. "I have need of their council."
Arthur nodded and ran off to do as he was told. Lord Huntington waited, jaw clenched, fists tightened. This was a test. That, he knew. He had never publicly declared which side of this issue he fell on. He had done so intentionally. He knew that if he declared for the King, for what was right, he would have an army of rebels outside his gates by morning but he could not bear to bring himself to declare for the rebels, even to avoid such bloodshed. They were tyrants, traitors, and he could not abide by it. But he had remained neutral for too long and so now they were here to discover where his loyalties lie.
