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He flexed the arm that was not clutching the cup. Even though he was covered to the elbow, every muscle and every tendon was massive and defined. His biceps strained at the material until she thought it was going to split. “ ’Tis good for strength as well as stamina,” he told her.

She nodded as though considering that explanation. Lord, the man was big. And handsome, too. She liked the way his brown eyes twinkled at her. He didn’t seem as arrogant or high-handed as that other English hound. She immediately felt more comfortable with his easy manner.

Kieran watched her lovely face. She was so tiny she looked like a fragile little doll. Her raven’s-wing hair reflected the light from the brazier like satin. He was pleased to notice also that handled calmly, she responded in kind. Paris seemed to bring out the worst in her, and she affected him the same way.

“Then ye must do it day and night to be so large,” she commented. “Are all Sassenach knights as big as ye?”

He did smile then. “Some, but not all,” he said. “What’s more, size is not indicative of skill.”

She nodded silently. Her pretty amber eyes were appraising him openly. “Where are ye from?”

“Nottingham,” he replied. “My family is descended from Saxon lords. My father is the Earl of Newark, in fact. I was named for a dead uncle of the same name. He was a very famous man, in fact. He fought with Richard the Lionheart.”

She digested the information. “Ye dinna look to be Norman to me.”

“Oh? And you can tell the difference?”

“Aye,” she insisted. “Normans are darker with angled faces. Your face is square and strong and yer skin is fair.”

“Paris is Norman,” he remarked.

Her eyes widened and filled with the devil. “Aye, and he acts like one, too,” she snapped. “I shall wager he believes every woman he meets to be in love with him, the arrogant buffoon. And do ye know he tried to sleep with me?”

Kieran’s eyebrows drew together. “He tried to bed you?”

“Nay,” she waved irritably. “He tried to sleep in the same bed with me.”

Kieran hid his smile, for she was obviously distressed. “For safety’s sake, I believe,” he said evenly. “Just as Sir William sleeps with Lady Jordan under his arm, to better protect her.”

“He does?” Obviously, Jemma did not know this. “And she allows this?”

“She has learned to trust him,” he said, then added: “And, he gave her no choice.”

“Oh,” Jemma backed down. He could see her mind working. After a moment, she lifted her eyes again. “Are we truly in danger?”

Kieran was honest. For her own safety, he had to be. “There are those among us who do not like Scots,” he said. “ ’Tis better not to leave anything to chance.”

Jemma looked worried and thoughtful at the same time. Jordan was right; mayhap she should not have come. But it was too late now. She was here and here she would stay. For the first time, she began to doubt the wisdom of her actions.

“What about ye, Sir Kieran?” she asked, calmly. “Do ye hate Scots?”

He sighed, crouching down to be more on her level. “ ’Tis not easy as that, my lady,” he said. “I have been fighting Scots a long time. Suffice it to say that I would do neither you nor Lady Jordan any harm.”

“Sir Paris dunna like me,” she declared. “He would kill me if he had the chance; you heard him.”

“Nay, I can promise you that he would not,” Kieran said. “He was jesting.”

“Nay, he wasna,” she insisted. “But I dunna like him, either. He is conceited and mean, and he treats me like a bairn.”

“And I suppose you kicking him had nothing to do with his behavior towards you?” Kieran reminded her.

“I was protecting myself.”

She probably believed that. Kieran sighed; she and Paris would surely kill each other before they reached Northwood. He stole a glance at her again; she was quite lovely and he was entranced with delicate features. She and her cousin shared the same pert little nose and the same oval face, but that was where the similarity ended. Jordan was as fair as a summer day, whereas Jemma was dark and striking. He was not hard pressed to admit he liked her; he liked women with a bit of fire.

“Would you like to ride with me tomorrow instead of Paris?” he found himself suggesting. “ ’Twould spare you both the agony of dealing with one another, and William the headache of listening to you complain.”

The amber eyes lit up. “Aye, I would,” she said eagerly. “Do ye think Sir William will let me?”