‘I do know, Mara. I was there.’
‘Of course, my lady.’
‘Would you fetch me my robe? I think I shall join the general in the study.’
Moments later, in a white evening robe, Cordelia Lowen descended the stairs. Her father, having shed his uniform coat, was sitting at his desk, reading. Cordelia entered the room and poured herself a goblet of mulled wine. It was too heavily spiced, but still good upon the tongue. ‘What are you reading?’ she asked.
Cordley Lowen glanced up. ‘Letters outlining the finances of the Southlands Company. Molion sent them by rider this morning.’
‘I expect they say you are richer than ever, Father.’
‘Indeed they do. It makes happy reading,’ he said, though she noted his voice sounded far from happy. ‘Did you enjoy the party?’
She shrugged. ‘It was better than I expected.’
‘I saw you talking to young Macon.’
‘He apologized for his boorish behaviour.’
‘He is young and impetuous. He did what he believed was right.’ Cordley Lowen shook his head and gave a wry smile. ‘Indeed, he was right.’
Cordelia was shocked. How could such behaviour be considered right? She sipped her wine, and settled down into a padded leather chair by the fire. Cordley Lowen glanced at her and sighed.
‘I don’t want to lose your love, my child.’
‘You never will, Father.’
‘Never is a long time. I have done well for the king’s forces, finding food and supplies, ensuring that shipments arrive and that the army is never short of powder and shot.’
‘Of course you have. The king could not have found a better man.’
‘To do this I have needed to bribe officials, and perform many unsavoury deeds.’
‘Such is the nature of the army, Father. Why are you talking like this?’
‘To finance those bribes – and to line my own pockets – I have double sold some supplies. Meats and produce paid for by independent officers were – diverted.’
‘You did what you had to do, I am sure. Let us not talk about this, Father. Please!’
‘I have become a thief, Cordelia. On a grand scale. Macon paid for supplies he did not receive. That is why he came to the house. That was the reason for his anger.’
‘Why are you telling me this? I did not need to know.’
‘I need you to know, and I cannot really explain why. Not even to myself. I think, perhaps, it is because you are the one true person in my life. You are, indeed, the only object of true worth I will leave behind me.’
‘Stop it!’ she cried, running to him and throwing her arms around him. ‘You are frightening me with this talk.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘You are just tired, Father. You need rest.’
Taking her hands in his own he kissed them. ‘You are right, of course. I am tired, and I am becoming maudlin. But I have been foolish these last few years. My eyes are open now, though. By heaven they are. I don’t know how I could have been so blind.’ He turned away from her and stared out of the window at the moonlit snow covering the small garden at the rear of the house. Cordelia stood quietly, watching his face, reading the pain she saw there. It was an unsettling sight. The one great constant in Cordelia’s life was the power that emanated from her father. He was always sure, always confident. He radiated purpose.
Cordley Lowen sighed and ran a hand through his leonine hair. ‘Gaise Macon could have killed me. I would have thought that the child of such a father would have done so without hesitation.’
Glad of the opportunity to change the subject Cordelia asked: ‘His father is an earl somewhere in the north, is he not?’
‘His father is the Moidart, Cordelia. Tales of his savagery abound – though I would hope that the worst of them have never been repeated to you.’
‘I have heard of the Moidart,’ said Cordelia, ‘and some of the legends surrounding him. I do not believe them to be true. No Varlish lord would behave in so despicable a manner. The king would not allow it.’