In any case, concerning your question, it does have a bearing on the subject. As you know, I am the twelfth Earl of Chadwick. Granted, it’s not a huge estate, and Ballentyne isn’t the most influential of families, but I am not without merit. I control five villages and twelve hamlets, as well as the strategic Senon Uplands. I currently command more than sixty professional men-at-arms, and twenty knights are loyal to me—including Sir Enden and Sir Breckton, both of whom rank in the top fifty on the tournament circuit. Chadwick’s wool and leather exports are the envy of the whole of Warric, and there is talk of the Summersrule Games being held here on the very lawn you crossed to enter my castle.”

“Yes, Archie—I mean Archibald—I am well aware of Chadwick’s status in the world. I don’t need a commerce lesson from you.”

“Are you also aware that King Ethelred’s nephew has dined here on more than one occasion? Or that the Duke and Lady of Rochelle have promised to invite me to Wintertide this year?”

“Archibald, this is quite tiresome. What exactly is your point?”

Archibald frowned at the marquis’ lack of awe. He carried over the glasses of brandy, handed one to Victor, and took the remaining seat. He paused a moment to sip his liquor.

“My point is this. Given my position, my stature, and my promising future—why would Alenda reject me? Certainly, it is not because of my appearance. The rest of her suitors are old, fat, or bald—in several cases all three.”

“Perhaps looks and wealth are not her only concern,” replied Victor. “Women don’t always think about politics and power. Alenda is the kind of girl who follows her heart.”

“But she also follows her father’s wishes. Am I correct?”

“I don’t understand your meaning.”

“If you told her to marry me, she would.”

“That is not a certainty. Alenda has been known to disobey me.”

“As her father perhaps, but would she refuse a command from the Marquis of Glouston?” Archibald pressed. “You could order her to marry me.”