That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. "Put up your blade, Sir Rowland," rejoined Jonathan, resuming his former calm demeanour, "King James the Third will need it. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. They were the only real marriages she had seen clearly. I would be the kidnapper, of course, but we would forge ransom notes and exchange monies so that it appeared you were taken by brigands or plotters against the Iovelli family.
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