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“Oh,” she said, surprised. “The new small hall.”

She’d seen the small stone building being erected just next to the keep. Odd for the timing of it as most new buildings were commissioned in the spring. When she inquired about it, Tristan said a small hall was being built.

But clearly, it was not a small hall. Her first sign was the smoke rising from it. And then, a familiar smell. When Tristan pushed open the wooden door, Regina nearly fell to the ground in surprise. All of the faces were familiar. People with whom she worked side by side every day . . . in her father’s bakery. But now, they were here, just next to the hall. From the outside the building looked small, but from here, it was much larger. At least twice the size of the one outside Camburg Castle’s walls.

“You made mention of wishing to continue to work with your father. There is no need, of course. And I will admit tis an exceedingly odd arrangement.” He shrugged. “But I approached your father with the idea. Since the old bakery was built, there have been new developments in ways to prevent fires which threaten the main keep. It will be more convenient for him, and you as well.”

“You . . .” She struggled to find words. “You had this built in one month?”

Tristan beamed, his smile as broad as the day he’d earned his spurs.

“My father and I commissioned the builders who had just finished constructing the pele tower on the northwest of our land. They had plenty of extra stone, and aye, I insisted it be completed by today. This is the first time the ovens have been used, just this morn.”

She could come here anytime she liked. Work alongside her family. One who would no longer have to endure the trek to the castle keep, especially useful for feast days.

“One more wedding gift.” Tristan pulled her from the bakery back outside. “Tis too cold to visit them now but”—he pointed to the stable—“mounts for each of you. So your parents and brother can get here easily from the family home. Your mount I am especially proud of as I brought her back with me from Flanders.”

Her mouth dropped. “You brought me a horse? From Flanders?”

“I’d hoped for her to be a wedding gift.”

Tristan pulled her into his arms. She knew now that his impromptu kiss on Christmas Eve was more thoroughly planned than she’d realized. For the past months, while she fretted about his time at court, who he would meet, the women he might bed . . . the wife he might find, Tristan was planning to declare his love to her.

Would she ever become accustomed to the thought?

“I’ve so little to give to you.”

But Reggie did have one thing. She’d planned to give it to him later, certainly not now, standing in the covered but frigid walkway. But it seemed the perfect time. And so Regina reached into the pocket sewn into the wedding dress Lady Marion insisted she accept. Pulling out the bit of cloth, she handed it to her husband.

Brows furrowed, he took it, their fingers brushing as they’d done so many times in the past. But this time, with more meaning, and intent, than ever before. She held her breath as he opened it.

There, dried and having long ago fallen into pieces, was the companion to the flower she’d given him that day, the day of the funeral. Regina was never quite sure why she kept it. Until now.

“I gave you this one,” she said, “on the day your sister introduced us.”

When she looked up to him, Tristan’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. Until one escaped, dropping onto his cheek. She wiped it away.

“I will put it with the other,” he said, his voice thick.

“You have it still?”

Tristan folded the cloth.

“I do,” he said finally, regaining composure. “Maybe I knew, that very day. I’m certain Elizabeth did.”

“Aye,” she agreed, smiling, ready to celebrate their joining. “But could she have ever known one Christmas Eve kiss would have led to this? To the baron’s son marrying a baker’s daughter amidst the most turmoil our border has seen in many years?”

“I am certain of it,” he replied. “As certain there will always be one place the turmoil will not reach us. Only love, and pleasure. And I intend to take you there straightaway.”

“Nay,” she protested. “We must get back to the hall.”

Tristan leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Soon enough, Reggie.” He kissed her there, and then his lips were on her neck, his tongue flicking out and ensuring she’d have no recourse to deny such a request. “Will you come with me?”

“Always,” she said, just before his lips covered hers, ensuring the guests would indeed be forced to wait.

Always.