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Sin Vaughn stood watching them for a time, contemplating his attack. The Countess of March was without a doubt the most exciting woman he had ever met. Her very coolness to him, her air of respectability, enticed him greatly. Very tall, and slender, he stood head and shoulders above most of the court. The ladies adored him, and his charm was legendary. His oval-shaped gray eyes had the habit of narrowing almost to slits when he was considering some matter he deemed to be of importance. He had thick, wavy, ash-brown hair that was filled with golden highlights, and he was clean-shaven, unlike many at court. His chin was squared, and there was a deep cleft in it that set maidens to swooning when they looked upon him. His mouth was big, in keeping with the rest of him.

Snapping up a goblet of chilled wine, he was at her side as the dance came to an end. Her partner, seeing his rival, slipped into the background. "Madame," he said, handing her the goblet. She looked absolutely delicious, all flushed and breathless.

"My thanks, my lord," she said with a small smile. She was going to have to encourage him, she knew. He would be privy to all of Tom Culpeper's secrets, and Tom Culpeper was paying marked attention to the queen at all these little gatherings when the king was not present. Both he and Cat were quite proper in their behavior, but there was a tension between them that to Nyssa was almost palpable. Did no one else see it, or sense it? Was she imagining things? "You do not dance, my lord," she said to him.

"I have not the knack for it," he replied, smiling into her eyes and taking her free hand in his. "I have other talents, madame."

"Are you flirting with me, my lord?" she asked him.

He was amused. Usually women simpered at his attentions. "I believe I am, madame. Do you mind?"

"I am a married woman, sir," she said with an answering smile.

"Then perhaps I should ask if your husband minds?" he responded.

Nyssa laughed. He was witty, she had to admit. "Since the ladies all flirt with Varian," she told him, "I hardly think he can object if the gentlemen admire me. What do you think, my lord?"

"I think you are extravagantly beautiful," he told her.

"I think you, sir, are possibly very dangerous," Nyssa said, freeing her hand from his, handing him her goblet, and moving away from where they had been standing.

Cynric Vaughn burst out laughing. The quarry had been engaged, and the hunt was about to begin. She was the most intoxicating woman he had ever met. She was direct, and there was no artifice about her. He meant to have her, and he would.

"You stare at Lady de Winter too hard, I think, Sin," Tom Culpeper said. "You waste your time. Her grace says she is virtuous to a fault. Set your sights on an easier prey."

"No," came the reply. "She will be mine, Tom. I am not certain yet how, but she will. I want her as I have never wanted a woman."

"Beware, my friend," Culpeper warned him, "the king is fond of her. Lady de Winter's mother was once his mistress. How do you think she came to be wed to the Earl of March? He seduced the girl, and the king would not be satisfied until she was wed to him. He saw to it himself, and insisted upon proof that the marriage had been consummated so that de Winter could not legally repudiate the girl and keep her wealth. She is the daughter of the Earl of Langford."

"So it was no love match?" Cynric Vaughn said.

"There is no enmity between them that I know of, and they have children in common," Culpeper informed his friend.

"How fare you in your own hunt?" Sir Cynric wondered softly.

"You mistake my intentions," Tom Culpeper said. "I simply wish to climb high, as Charles Brandon did, but alas, that was thirty years ago. In those days one became the king's friend to advance a career, but the king is old now. One must become the queen's friend today in order to reach one's goals."

Cynric Vaughn laughed. "I do not believe that I have ever heard a better excuse for seduction, Tom," he told Culpeper. "But if you get caught, she will cry rape. The king will not let you off as easily as he did with that gamekeeper's wife. Besmirch his rose without a thorn, and you will find yourself without a head. Is it worth it?"

"My cousin the queen and I are just friends," Culpeper replied.

The king's progress moved across the soft rolling hills and moors of Yorkshire and Northumberland. Where the hunting was good, they would remain for a few days, and then travel onward. Nyssa did enjoy hunting, but more for the thrill of the chase than for the kill. Country-bred girls were usually good horsewomen, and she was no exception.

One afternoon her horse began limping even as a rainstorm caught her falling behind the main party. Looking for shelter, she espied the ruins of an ancient abbey and rode into the refuge of its walls. Dismounting, she took her mare's leg up and saw a stone lodged in its shoe.

"God's foot!" Nyssa muttered irritably, and then jumped at the sound of a male voice. Whirling about, she came face-to-face with Sir Cynric Vaughn.

"I saw you leave the hunt," he said. "Are you all right, madame?"

"My mare has caught a stone, and I've no knife with which to pry it loose," Nyssa told him.

"Which foot?" he asked, and when she showed him, he took the mare's hoof in one hand, removing the stone from it with his knife in the other hand. "There, madame. She will be fine now, but we, I fear, must wait for the rain to let up."

Looking past him, Nyssa saw what had begun as a shower was now a downpour. It was as good an opportunity as she would ever get to make friends with Sin Vaughn and draw him out. "Have you been at court long, my lord? I do not seem to remember you from my last visit," she began conversationally.

"I am here most of the time," he told her.

"You are Master Culpeper's friend," she noted innocently.