“I will not.”
“I thought you were a fighter.”
“I am, but I prefer to engage under Traquair’s banner if he raises it.”
“Against me?”
“Just that.”
“And you think I will let you go?”
“I’ll take my oath on it.”
“You are right. The way is clear to Scotland, to Oxford, or where you please. What have you come to me for?”
“For Frances Wentworth.”
“I thought as much. In this I cannot oblige you. With you I have nothing to do, and you are at liberty. That wench of Wentworth’s stands on a different footing, inasmuch as she has proved traitor to her own. I shall do nothing to injure her, but she shall taste captivity until she confesses her error.”