“It’s not gossip, exactly,” Uncle Fergus returned, “and if you want your household to run smooth, you ought to pay attention to what’s going on among the servants, as Riona does. I’ve been spared some trouble that way, I can tell you.”
“Never mind, Uncle,” Riona said. “I’m sure Sir Nicholas doesn’t require any assistance from me.”
Sir Nicholas looked at her with his piercing dark eyes and his gaze felt like a flame on her skin. “Given that I’m used to commanding soldiers, not servants, especially female ones, perhaps I should hear what you have to say on the subject.”
“My lord, I really don’t think…” she began, desperately trying to think of a good reason to refuse.
“He needs your help, Riona,” Uncle Fergus exclaimed. “Now be a good girl—”
He made her sound like a child!
“And tell him about Polly. Since I’ve heard all about it, you won’t mind if I go on ahead, I hope?” Uncle Fergus asked with an eager look in his eyes that, Riona suspected, had a great deal to do with Fredella.
“I have no wish to detain you,” Sir Nicholas said.
“Until later, then, my lord,” Uncle Fergus cried cheerfully as, with a wave of his hand, he abandoned her.
“He seems in a great hurry,” Sir Nicholas noted as Riona continued to walk beside him, silently commanding herself not to fall behind. She didn’t want to look like a dog trotting after its master.
She wasn’t about to tell him why she thought her uncle was in a rush to get to the castle, either. He’d surely disapprove of any nobleman preferring to be with a servant. “I don’t think my uncle likes hunting, particularly.”
“Neither do I.”
She slid the Norman a skeptical glance as they reached the inner gate. “Then why did you suggest it?”
“Because it’s a fine day, and I thought the other gentlemen would enjoy it.”
That seemed to be the end of that subject. “About Polly, my lord—”
“I’d prefer to have this discussion in my solar.”
“I’d prefer not to be alone with you, my lord.”
He regarded her with a stony expression. “If you’d rather have this discussion about my servant in the hall or yard, that is, of course, up to you. However, I don’t consider it wise to discuss one’s underlings where anyone may overhear.”
Unfortunately, he had a point, made even stronger when a stableboy, his expression inquisitive, ran up to take charge of Sir Nicholas’s horse.
“Very well, my lord,” she conceded.
Without another word, Sir Nicholas turned on his heel and started toward the solar, leaving her to follow.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ONCE IN HIS SOLAR,Sir Nicholas walked toward a small table bearing an ornate silver carafe and two finely wrought goblets. “Wine, my lady?”
“No, thank you.”
He raised a quizzical brow as he poured the rich, red beverage into one of the goblets. “Are you intending to stand on the threshold for the duration of this conversation? That rather defeats the purpose of coming to my solar.”
She swept past him to the center of the room. It was smaller than she’d expected, given the size of his castle, and very plain. The only ornamentation was the intricate patterns on the silver goblets and carafe. There were no tapestries, or anything else to provide a hint of warmth. The room was as cold and austere as the man himself.
As he closed the door, she gave him a calmly inquiring look. She wasn’t going to let him think he could intimidate her—not if she could help it, anyway.
Yet being here with him, alone, seemed to set her body on fire, and the memory of that kiss….
“Please, sit down,” he said, nodding at the one and only chair.
She went around the heavy trestle table and sank onto the seat. Holding his goblet lightly in his strong fingers, he, too, came around the table and leaned back against it only a foot or so away from her.
