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He frowned at her. “ ’Tis much too sticky, my lady.”

She strolled casually to him, hands clasped behind her back. When she got within a foot or so, she stopped and raised her chin quite firmly. “Not if the walk is to the lake so that we may go swimming.”

His bushy auburn brows rose. “Outside the gate? I think not, my lady.”

She continued to fix him with a firm stare. “But I wish it.”

Oh, lord, Ranulf thought. Here she goes. He had heard she was a strong-willed lass, but he had yet to see her display herself because of her weakened condition. Apparently she was feeling up to par, and he braced himself.

“Then I do apologize for denying your request,” he said. “But swimming is out of the question.”

“Why?”

Unlike the other younger knights, Ranulf had a little more control when it came to dealing with women. He would not fold as easily. Mayhap that was the wisdom of William’s choice in letting him remain behind to guard her.

“Because ’twould be too difficult to see to your safety, my lady,” he replied evenly.

“Then bring more men,” Jordan suggested. “ ’Twill make yer job much easier to have yer flanks covered, then ye can concentrate on me.”

He shook his head. “Nay, my lady, I must still refuse.”

She was not about to give up. She looked at him frankly. “I am going, anyway.”

He almost laughed at her boldness. “Nay, you are not,” he said. “William would have my head if anything happened to you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” she replied seriously. “Therefore, I am going. Ye may come or ye may stay; ’tis all the same to me. Jemma?”

Jemma was grinning, up on her feet. She was ready to go. When Jordan turned away from Ranulf, she was amazed to see that he was in front of her again, barring the door. She was a little startled at the speed with which the man had moved.

“If I have to physically hold you down, I will,” he said in an easy, controlled voice. “Now, why do you not return to your loom and relax? This is an afternoon that begs for sleeping.”

Being firm with him hadn’t worked, she thought with frustration. She then decided to be a bully.

“Ye wunna dare tie me down, Ranulf Kluge.” she exclaimed threateningly. “If ye so much as lay a hand on me, I shall scream murder.”

He shrugged calmly. “If you so choose.”

She sighed heavily. So bullying would not work with the man, she quickly discovered. Then a light lit her scheming mind; mayhap trickery would. After all, the man was wearing half of his armor.

Surely she could outrun him, at least until she hit the lake. Then, after she was already wet, surely he could not deny her a brief, luxurious swim. ’Twas worth a try. If nothing else, she would get some much needed exercise.

Suddenly becoming the very model of an obedient woman, she sat in the high-back chair and folded her hands.

“Very well, Ranulf, I will comply,” she said with feigned resignation. “ ’Tis far too humid, as ye say, for the walk to the lake. I might exert myself. Would ye do me the favor of retrieving my petit poi? ’Tis by my bed, on the table.”

He nodded. “I am truly sorry, my lady. I am not trying to be cruel.”

“I know,” she said with a faked smile. “Ye are simply following orders.”

He nodded again and returned the smile. She almost felt bad that she was tricking him, but not that sorry. As soon as he disappeared into her bedchamber, she was up and running.

Jemma had no time to react at all. Jordan was flinging open the door only to find three startled soldiers staring at her. When one took a step toward her, she grabbed hold of his breastplate and pulled as hard as she could, standing aside quickly as he crashed hard through the open doorway. She reasoned that an obstacle would somehow slow Ranulf’s pursuit. She heard Jemma’s gleeful laugh as she raced for the stairs.

She could hear Ranulf cursing loudly, his bootfalls not far behind her. It had become a game and she had every intention of winning.

Jordan was deep into the stairwell when the herald trumpets sounded high atop the outer wall, announcing the approach of the Northwood’s army. She never heard it.

She hit the landing and gained speed, mindful of Ranulf’s footsteps on the stairs behind her. Her skirts were up around her thighs as she took the second flight of stairs like a runaway horse, hoping she would not fall and break her neck but thinking God would believe it suitable punishment for being so wicked.