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She slid down off her horse and felt a warm arm curl about her waist, supporting her, setting her on her feet. Pale and shadow-eyed, Lily turned to thank her husband.
“You are tired, Lily,” he murmured softly against her ear, his warm breath tingling in places she had forgotten for an hour or two. Amazingly, she felt desire pool in her belly and tighten her breasts, which had become so much more sensitive since her pregnancy.
“Rest,” Radulf ordered. Then, “Stephen!”
“The squire appeared from nowhere, wide-eyed as he gazed up at his lord. “Lord Radulf?” he stammered.
“You are well, boy?” Radulf quizzed him. “Lord Henry has been treating you kindly?”
“Yes, my lord.” Stephen’s blue eyes were full of admiration.
“Where is Lord Henry?”
“He’s with the workers at the castle, my lord. They’ve already made a beginning. Soon you won’t have to live in a tent.”
Radulf laughed. “Unfortunately, a good stone castle is not so quickly built, boy!”
Stephen caught Lily’s eye and color stained his beardless cheeks, but she had expected him to be suspicious of her. The last time she had been there, Lily had been under guard, a possible threat to the Normans. Now everyone would know she was the she-devil, Vorgen’s widow, and the wife Lord Radulf had been ordered by the king to wed.
“Bring food and drink to the tent for my lady, Stephen.” Radulf spoke over his shoulder as he walked away. “And for me!”
Stephen bowed as low as he could. “This way, lady.” He gestured toward the tent, as if she didn’t know her own way. “Lord Henry moved when he had word Lord Radulf was returning to Grimswade. The tent is all yours.”
“Thank you, Stephen.”
The dim, airy interior was heavenly after her long, rough journey. Lily would have collapsed on the furs on the bed, but Stephen pointedly placed a stool by the table. Amused, Lily sat while the squire hurried to fetch the food and drink his master had commanded.
As she waited, Lily wrapped her new fur-lined cloak closer about her body. Summer was truly over here at Grimswade. As they had ridden north she had noticed the trees beginning to turn, their leaves a brilliant collage against the vast gray sky. The rocky crags and thick forests seemed more desolate, more lonely. This was not the soft south, where Radulf’s heart dwelt. This was Lily’s country, harsh and unforgiving. It had made her what she was.
Stephen returned and set down a goblet of wine and several platters of food. Lily summoned a smile, and chose a slice of apple and several plump blackberries. The latter were sweet and juicy against her tongue and, with the wine, helped to revive her.
“How is Grimswade, Stephen?”
“Until now, lady, it’s been very quiet. Everyone who could has taken turns working on the castle. It is to stand upon the same hill where the she-dev—that is, where Vorgen had his keep…lady.”
The color had once more flooded his face at the slip, but Lily pretended not to notice. “And Father Luc?”
Thoughts of the little priest had niggled at her while she was in York. She had wondered whether Lord Henry had discovered Father Luc’s involvement with Hew and punished him for it. And of course, there had been the priest’s masterly twisting of the truth where Lily’s identity and whereabouts were concerned.
Stephen set her mind at rest.
“He left not long after you and Lord Radulf, lady. One of the villagers said he’d gone to a monastery on the coast. They say he was very fond of oysters,” he added, with more than a hint of disapproval.
Lily laughed, more with relief at Father Luc’s safety than Stephen’s prejudices. But Stephen’s fair skin pinkened for the third time.
“I’ll leave you to rest now, my lady,” he informed her with much wounded dignity.
Lily stretched and yawned. “Yes, Stephen, I am very tired. And Stephen…I’m glad your voice has stopped jumping about. It sounds very nice.”
He bolted.
Lily chuckled to herself. She glanced longingly over the platters but was just too weary to eat. Stumbling over to the bed, she climbed under the pile of furs and collapsed. She didn’t even bother to undress. What did a few creases matter? Soon they would do battle with Hew and Lord Kenton.
Lily’s head ached with thinking. She drew a deep breath, and promptly fell asleep.
And woke, disoriented.
It was as if the past had slipped forward, or Lily had slipped back. She was lying in Radulf’s bed in his tent at Grimswade, just as she had before, and he was in the room with her. She sensed him, knew he was there even before she heard the sound of his low, husky voice.
