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  Jordan had been right when she said he considered Northwood Castle his home more than Castle Questing. He had so much history here, so many fond memories. Walking the halls was like returning to the embrace of an old friend. He was heading for the spiral stairs that led to the fourth floor when he came across a robed figure in the darkness, walking the halls as well. William came to a halt when he recognized him.

  “My lord,” he greeted the Earl of Teviot himself. “I thought you had retired for the night.”

  Adam de Longley smiled at his old friend and former commander. He was quite a bit younger than William, perhaps the man he looked up to most in the entire world. When Adam had been a squire, William had taken the time with the young man, training him properly, making sure he was the best warrior he could be. Adam had always appreciated the time and care William had taken with him and their alliance had been a strong one for over forty years.

  “Not yet,” Adam said. “In fact, I have been hoping to see you. I heard about Paris from Deinwald. Is it true the man tried to kill himself?”

  William grunted unhappily. “I hope Deinwald isn’t telling everyone that.”

  “He’s not,” Adam said. “Just me. He is surprisingly protective over Paris, though I don’t know why. The angry Irishman and the arrogant Norman have had a time over the years, you know.”

  A flicker of a smile crossed William’s lips. “Well I know it,” he said. “But Deinwald is fiercely loyal to Northwood. Even if Paris enraged him, he would never leave.”

  “You did not answer me. Is it true what he told me?”

  William nodded hesitantly. “It is,” he said. “Hector knows, and Deinwald of course, but no one else. I’m not even sure Cassie knows, even though she was there. I’ve not spoken to her yet.”

  Adam drew in a long, pensive breath. “He’s not been the same since Caladora died,” he said sadly. “We have all tried to spend time with him, to ensure he had all of the companionship he wanted, but it is not the same as having your wife with you. I knew he was depressed but I am ashamed in that I did not know it was this bad.”

  “None of us knew it was this bad,” William said. “I am ashamed most of all. The man has been my best friend since we were children and I did not see this coming.”

  “Do you think he will attempt it again?”

  “I am not sure. It could have been a rash decision.”

  “Are you going to him now?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then you must find out if it was, indeed, a rash decision or something he’s truly determined to do. I do not want to have to lock the man up for his own safety.”

  William eyed him a moment before speaking. “Jordan had an idea,” he said. “Paris is lonely. He feels useless. She thinks a companion might change his outlook.”

  “What kind of companion?”

  “Female.”

  “Another wife?”

  “Possibly.”

  Adam thought on that briefly before nodding. “I think it is an excellent idea,” he said. “Find him another wife for companionship. No woman can replace Caladora, of course.”

  “One woman might.”

  “Who?”

  “Jemma.”

  Adam’s eyes widened. “What?” he hissed in astonishment. “The Banshee?”

  William put up a hand. “I know it sounds foolish. I tried to tell Jordan that.”

  Adam’s hand was at his mouth in shock but he quickly shook his head. “Actually, I do not think so,” he said. “I mean, I suppose it does sound ludicrous at first, but think about it – they have known each other for decades. Do not forget that I was there when we escorted Jordan from her home in Scotland to Northwood to marry my father. I was there when Jemma first met Paris.”

  “And you know that putting those two together was like throwing fuel on a fire.”

  Adam couldn’t disagree. “That is true, but they are both much older now. They’ve matured and they have a great deal of shared history. Why shouldn’t they be companions in their old age?”

  “Because they might kill each other?”

  Adam started to laugh. “It may not be as outlandish as you think. Mayhap you should bring it up to Paris.”

  “And risk losing teeth? I am not entirely sure that is wise.”

  Adam sobered. “What is the alternative, then? Locking the man up to prevent him from walking into a river again?”

  He had a point. William simply nodded his head and quietly excused himself, heading for the stairs. The stairwell was cold and dark, and reaching the top, he emerged into the fourth floor landing. Paris’ chamber was immediately to his right and he went to the door, knocking softly. Hearing a muffled answer, he simply lifted the latch and entered.

  The room was dark but for a surprisingly vigorous fire in the hearth. William caught sight of Paris as the man lay on the bed in the darkness.

  “Jordan threw me out of our chamber,” William said. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

  Paris grunted. “You are a very bad liar.”

  William found the big, cushioned chair near the hearth, the one Paris always sat in, and planted himself. The cushions were warm from the fire, making it nice and cozy.

  “It was worth a try,” he said. “I am going to remain here with you for the night so I thought it would sound better if I made you feel pity for me.”

  “I feel no pity for you at all. You married that pushy Scots.”

  “You married one, too.”

  “My Scots wasn’t quite as pushy as yours. At least she knew when to keep her mouth shut.”

  William settled back in the chair. “Whatever Jordan said to you was from the heart. You know she loves you.”

  Paris fell silent for a few moments. “She was in here earlier.”

  “Was she?”

  “Do you know what she told me?”

  “I am afraid to ask.”

  Paris rolled onto his side, looking at William as the man was softly illuminated by the firelight. “She told me that Jemma was sweet on me those years ago before Kieran claimed her,” he said. “Is that true?”

  William didn’t want to call his wife a liar. “She would know better than I would,” he said. “Jemma did not confess that kind of thing to me.”

  Paris’ gaze lingered on him in the darkness. “It is madness, William.”

  “Mayhap.”

  “What do you mean ‘mayhap’? We are speaking of Jemma. Jemma! We have never gotten on.”

  William thought back to those turbulent days when Paris and Jemma had first been introduced. “It was not all her fault, you know,” he said. “When we captured her following the army and I assigned you to watch over her, you made it very clear how distasteful you felt towards her. I am not saying that Jemma was an angel back then, but I’m not sure how you expected her to react when you called her a she-devil and a banshee.”

  Paris frowned. “She was both of those things.”

  “Did you have to tell her to her face? Nay, she was not entirely to blame, so do not play the victim in all of this. You were no saint.”

  Paris clearly wasn’t getting the support he had been expecting. “She started it by kicking me.”

  “Must we really go over something that happened over fifty years ago?” William rubbed at his forehead as if in pain. “Paris, you were both at fault. But I do know that you made Callie an excellent husband for many years and Jemma made Kieran an excellent wife for many years. You were both young when you first met and it was a volatile situation. Neither one of you were on your best behavior. That set the tone.”

  Paris rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he thought of his first meeting with Jemma those years ago. That was all he’d been thinking of since Jordan had left him. He went in waves; one moment, the very idea disgusted him and in the next, it intrigued him. But in his old age, he’d become a little more reasonable, the type of sensibility that came with maturity. He could be a little more rational. He thought hard back to those days when he was
young, handsome, and powerful.

  It seemed like a thousand years ago.

  “Nay, we were not,” he finally said. “You were so busy with your feelings for Jordan and I was busy with my duties, my career. I did not want to be the nursemaid of a pretty young Scotswoman. It was beneath me.”

  A faint smile crossed William’s lips. “You thought she was pretty?”

  “That is indisputable.”

  “Tell me something, Paris. Did you feel anything for her before Kieran took her away?”

  Paris turned his head to look at him. “You have been talking to your wife.”

  “Of course I have. Answer my question.”

  Paris resumed staring at the ceiling. “Do you know what I told Jordan?” he said. “I told her that Jemma was like the northern star. She’s constant; everything about her is strong and predictable. I have known her for as long as I can recall.”

  “Did you feel anything for her before Kieran took her away?”

  “And if I say that I did not?”

  “Then I will not ask again.”

  Silence filled the air between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was simply the pleasant, predictable silence between two friends. Like most good friends, William and Paris didn’t have to be speaking constantly in order to enjoy one another’s company. There was comfort in the mere fact that they were in the chamber together. William leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, weary from the day. He was just starting to doze when Paris spoke again.

  “She was very pretty.”

  William opened his eyes. “Jemma?”

  “Aye.”

  “She still is.”

  “I know,” Paris said. “It is… possible that there was a potential for me to feel something towards her, but she and Kieran came together so quickly there was never any chance to explore it. That’s what Jordan said, you know. She said that Jemma was sweet on me but because I never gave her a chance, she went with Kieran when he made his feelings known. Do you think that is true?”

  William shrugged. “I know how you can find out.”

  “How?”

  “Ask her.”

  Paris scowled. “Christ, William, what do you think the woman would say to me if I marched over to Castle Questing and demanded to know if she once had feelings for me?” he asked, annoyed. “She would punch me in the throat.”

  William laughed softly. “You do not have to ask her with all of the subtlety of a raging bull,” he said. “I realize that tact and patience has never been your strong suit, but if given the proper circumstances, a question like that could be introduced.”

  Paris groaned. “I do not know how,” he muttered. “Do you realize how long it has been since I have courted a woman? Or said anything remotely close to courting?”

  “Decades.”

  “Decades!”

  “Are you saying you have lost your touch with women, then?”

  “Never,” Paris insisted. “That would never be possible. For you it would, but not for me.”

  “Then you must be afraid of her if you are not willing to try.”

  Paris snorted. “Afraid of the Banshee?” he said. “You must be mad. Give me an excuse to paddle her behind and I shall do so gladly.”

  William started to laugh. “She is a grandmother now and nearly as old as you, so you cannot paddle her. She’s likely to get a club and beat you to death if you try.”

  Paris exhaled sharply, but he knew William was right. His indignation was all for show. He fell silent again, mulling over a situation that was of increasing interest to him. He didn’t even know why it should be, but it was.

  Jemma…

  But he was still reluctant.

  “This is madness, all of it,” he said. “Jemma is, well… Jemma. We have never gotten on. It will always be that way.”

  “Would you rather see her with someone else?”

  That brought Paris pause. “She’s an old woman,” he said. “Who would want her? Who would want me, for that matter? William, we are well past our prime. To enter into another relationship would…”

  William cut in. “Would give you both a reason to get up in the morning and face the day,” he said. “Paris, I am not telling you that you must do this. I will admit that I am still not entirely sure of it, either. But the more I think on it, the more I think it is something you should not discount. If Jemma is lonely, truly lonely without Kieran, it is quite possible she might desire someone else to keep company with. Not for wealth or procreation or an alliance, but simply to talk to. To enjoy things with. To share grandchildren with. You and Jemma share some of the same grandchildren. Would it not be nice to share all of this with someone you already know, someone you once thought was pretty?”

  “Still is,” Paris mumbled.

  William grinned. “Aye,” he said quietly. “She still is. You should at least think about it.”

  Paris did, for about a minute longer. But that was all the time he wanted to give it. “Enough,” he said. “Stop talking about that she-devil. I do not wish to discuss her any longer.”

  William put up his hands in supplication. “Very well,” he said. “Not another word. Let us speak on what we will do tomorrow. I want you to show me that new stallion that Adonis purchased in London. After that, I want you to go with me to Castle Questing to visit some of your grandchildren and then on to Berwick to see Patrick. His father-in-law gave him a set of gorgeous broadswords – Viking made. Atty has been bragging about them to everyone and I want to see them for myself.”

  “And after we attend Berwick?”

  “Then I need you to go with me to Wolfe’s Lair. It seems that Scott has had some trouble with a minor Scots laird because one of Scott’s knights is in love with the man’s daughter. I will need your counsel.”

  William often sought his advice on political matters, but this was a little extreme. It wasn’t like William to be so terribly demanding with his time and attention. Paris immediately knew what he was doing.

  “Do you intend to force me to go with you everywhere from now on?” he asked, somewhat ironically. “Don’t you trust me?”

  Now came the subject they had avoided since William entered the chamber, but he knew they had to discuss it sooner or later. He knew Paris would be on his guard. Carefully, he proceeded.

  “It is not a matter of trust,” he said honestly. “If I left and something happened to you, I would never forgive myself.”

  “This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”

  “I realize that. But what happened today… had I not come when I did, we would not be having this conversation.”

  “That was the plan.”

  “And how long have you had this plan?”

  “Long enough.”

  William was feeling frustration at Paris’ casual attitude to something as serious as this. “Paris, I cannot believe you have lived your entire life surviving battle only to try and take your own life in your old age. I do not understand the thoughts going through your mind.”

  Paris turned his head to look at him. “Hopefully you never will,” he muttered. “Desolation can topple the strongest man.”

  “But you are stronger even than that. You are the strongest man I know. I have seen it time and time again.” William was trying not to be harsh with him, or discount his feelings, but he truly didn’t understand Paris’ desire to die. “Until this urge to kill yourself leaves you, aye, I will be your shadow. I will be here to show you how much you have to live for and how much you are needed and loved. If you fall, I will be there to lift you up. I could not call myself your friend if I did not. Mayhap I do not understand the depths of your desolation, but I will try. And I will try to help.”

  Somehow, in that brief statement, Paris started to feel less alone. Though he always knew William was there for him, still, the man’s words had an impact. The crippling depression he had felt since Caladora died wasn’t as simple as William was making it out to be, but he knew t
he man meant well.

  Perhaps he needed to lean on that friendship.

  Perhaps he’d been too focused on his grief to think of it.

  “I am not entirely sure I want you to try,” Paris said. “These feelings I have… they cannot be wiped away simply because you wish it. It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before.”

  “I understand,” William said. “At least, I am trying very hard to. Please, Paris… please do not do anything foolish right now. Please let me try to help. Let me do for you what you would do for me if the situation were reversed.”

  That was a very true statement. He remembered thinking of William as he was walking towards the river and how much he would miss the man. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to leave him any longer, but depression and grief didn’t simply disappear overnight. Still… William was trying very hard to help him.

  Perhaps he should let him.

  “Then let us get some sleep so I can show you that stallion on the morrow,” Paris finally said. “I will warn you, however, that Adonis will not sell him to you. He loves that horse so much that his wife says he sleeps in the stall with the thing.”

  Relieved that they were not going to delve any deeper into Paris’ desire to end it all, at least at the moment, William grinned at the mental image of a grown man sleeping with his beloved horse.

  “Speaking of sleeping, I’m going to lay on the bed,” he said. “You had better not snore or my punishment will be swift.”

  Paris started to protest but William stood up from the chair, plopping onto the bed and shoving at Paris to move the man over.

  “Christ,” Paris hissed. “You did this when we were squires and I hated it. You will take over the entire bed.”

  “Then let that be a reminder to you to stay on your side.”