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Ral rode his big black destrier at the front of his small band of men, their horses stirring up dust along the trail. They were dressed in full battle gear, chain mail hauberk, sword and shield, patrolling the landscape north of the keep, crossing mountain and valley in search of the Ferret.

Naught had been heard of the outlaw since his disastrous encounter with Malvern—no raids, no travelers assaulted, no caravans lost, yet Ral rode uneasy in the saddle.

Instinct and long years of fighting said the Ferret would return, sooner or later, that even now he recruited more men and it wouldn’t be long before his villany would once more rain down upon the unwary.

Ral did not intend to let it happen.

“Tracks cross the trail near the river ahead.” Odo rode up beside him. “A wagon and travelers afoot. ’Tis unlikely that it is the Ferret.”

Ral nodded. “He and his men would needs be traveling horseback. Naught else looks amiss?”

“Nay, my lord.”

Just then Geoffrey approached from the rear, riding a big white stallion he called Baron. “Have you found him, my lord? Has Odo discovered the Ferret?”

“Nay, there has been no sign. ’Twould seem that for at least a while longer we are safe from his treachery.”

Geoffrey relaxed in his saddle. “’Tis my fondest hope he does not show his evil face again.”

Ral made no comment. In most ways he felt the same, yet the land he would receive for the outlaw’s capture remained all important.

More so now, with the death of so many cattle.

If the Ferret returned, he would rob and pillage and terrorize travelers on the roads.

But without him, there would be no grant of land.

Ral glanced at Geoffrey, saw him smiling easily, laughing at something Odo said. He had thought little of Geoffrey since his return to Caryn’s bed. Yet thoughts of the handsome young knight crept occasionally into his mind.

Caryn still spoke with affection to Geoffrey, still gamed with him in the great hall, still laughed more readily with Geoffrey than she did with her own husband. What were her feelings toward him? Could he be certain those feelings would not grow?

Ral had known many women. But he had loved only once. Eliana. She was a viper clothed in female skin. She was temptation and corruption in the guise of a woman, a vixen who could dupe and betray without the slightest twinge of guilt.

Other women he had known weren’t much better. They worked to please him for as long as he would have them, but once he tired of them, they would move on, repeating vows of love and loyalty to the next man and the next.

Still, his mother had been a good woman, faithful even when his father had strayed. She had been kind and loving, tolerating her husband’s numerous lemen, always welcoming him back to her bed. And his sisters, so far as he knew, remained ever loyal to their husbands, happily so, it would seem.

But what of Caryn? He knew now that she would not forgive his infidelities, and in truth he had little desire for other women. But what of her desires? Besides her physical need of him, what feelings did she hold for him? How much did she really care?

Each day his own feelings grew deeper. Frighteningly so. Yet he had forced himself to face them. To conquer his fears, to give her his loyalty—and his trust. Each day that trust deepened, reaching farther inside him, gaining a tighter hold on his heart.

It terrified him to think what he was risking.

As he rode back toward the castle, he prayed this time he would not regret it.

***

“The game is over—Beltar comes!”

Ambra’s heart slammed hard against her ribs. She was standing near the drawbridge, enjoying a walk before the midday meal, basking in the bright warming rays of the sun. At the sound of Richard’s voice, she spun in his direction.

“Dear God, Richard, say you do not mean it.” But his long grim strides continued toward her, and the look on his face said he meant every word.

“A messenger came only this morning. Beltar will arrive on the morrow.”

“Surely he cannot know that I am here.”

“’Tis the reason for his journey.”

“But how could he have discovered where I am?”

“Lady Caryn knows and so do I. The members of your troupe know. There are bound to be others.”

She worked to keep her hands from shaking. “What else did the message say?”

“Beltar accuses Lord Ral of your abduction.” Ambra hissed in a breath. “He demands that Braxston give you up. ’Tis hinted the Dark Knight has forced you into his bed, that you are Lord Ral’s leman.”

“Dear God in heaven. What says Lord Ral?”

A tinge of color crept into Richard’s cheeks. “He does not yet know. Thus far I have given the message only to Lady Caryn.” He glanced back toward the gray stone walls of the keep. “Even now she seeks him out. Mayhap she can win you his favor.”

“He will not be pleased that you did not go to him in the beginning.”

“As you said, you and I are friends.”

“Aye.” But it wasn’t his friendship Ambra wanted. Now that she knew she must leave, she discovered what she had suspected all along. She wanted Richard’s love.

“Lady Caryn will speak well for you. Mayhap Lord Ral can pursuade Lord Beltar—”

“Nay, I cannot risk it.” She started forward, but Richard caught her arm.

“Where do you mean to go?”

“Far and away from here.” She took a step, but his grip on her arm grew tighter.

“I cannot let you do that.” His eyes came to rest on her face.

Reaching out, he eased the hat from her head, letting her shiny blond hair tumble down, then he pulled the clay from the back of her ears.

“You are a woman,” he said softly, “a young and beautiful one, at that. ’Tis not safe for you to roam the country.

If Lord Ral cannot help you, then you must accept the path that lies ahead. ”

Ambra watched him a moment, her heart thudding softly. Then she steeled herself and shook her head. “I may be a woman, but thus far I have made it on my own. I will continue to do so.” She pulled free of his hold and started walking, but Richard caught her in a few quick strides.

He grabbed her arm and spun her around. “You will do as I say, do you hear?”

“I will do as I please.” She tried to pull free, but he wouldn’t let go.

“You are willful and stubborn. You are reckless and headstrong and totally unmanageable. I pity Lord Beltar, should he take you to wife.”

Before she could think, her hand lashed out and cracked across his face. Ambra sucked in a breath and so did Richard. “I-I am sorry.” She chewed her bottom lip as an angry red mark appeared on his cheek. “I did not mean to do that.”

Richard said nothing, but a muscle tightened in his jaw.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, then his mouth came down over hers.

She could feel his anger in the tension in his body, but she could also feel his passion.

He forced his tongue into her mouth and she thought her legs might give way beneath her.

Then his fiery kiss gentled. His hold on her, no longer brutal but no less possessive, slowly began to ease.

His lips brushed the corners of her mouth, teasing, tasting, making the heat flow softly through her body. He was shaking when he pulled away.

“I am sorry. I should not have done that.”

Ambra touched her kiss-swollen lips. The taste of him still lingered. “I wanted you to kiss me. I have for a very long time.”

Richard glanced away. “We are nothing alike, you and I.”

“I know. I am stubborn and willful, while you… you can be missish and far too set in your ways.”

A faint smile curved his lips, then he straightened. “And you are betrothed to another.” He gripped her arm and urged her once more toward the keep. “I meant what I said. I will not let you run.”

But you will let him have me. As they hadn’t in a very long time, tears gathered in her eyes and began to slip down her cheeks.

***

“I cannot believe you have once more deceived me,” Ral said to Caryn, staring at her as if she had somehow failed him. The thought stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“’Tis not a matter of deceit, but of trying to help someone.”

“Were you so certain that I would not?”

“Well, I…”

“Were you?” They were standing in their chamber, Ral pacing the floor at the foot of their bed, his tunic making jerking movements with each of his powerful strides.

Caryn’s chin came up. “When it was your wish to wed me, you did so, whether I desired it or not. ’Tis Beltar’s wish to wed Lady Ambra. I cannot believe you would gainsay him in this.”

He eyed her for a long, cool moment. “Why have you come to me now, when you did not do so before?”

Caryn stared down at her feet, her soft leather shoes still muddy from her morning trek out to the stables. “Lord Beltar arrives on the morrow.”

Ral’s hand slammed hard against the bedpost. “Sweet Christ, I cannot believe it! Beltar at Braxston. That is all we need.” He raked a hand through his wavy black hair, frustration and anger carving deep lines in his face. “How is it you know?”

“Richard told me. A messenger arrived just this morning.”

“Richard? You’ve involved Richard in this deceit?”

“’Twas Richard who received the news. He came to me because he cares for Lady Ambra. Have you not seen the way he looks at her?”

“Aye, I have seen it. You are telling me that Richard has also been aware of the jester’s ruse?”

“’Twas only recently that he discovered, though I think his body was certain from the start.”

Ral grunted. “’Twill do neither of them any good. The girl goes back to Beltar on the morrow.”

Caryn caught her husband’s arm and felt the heavy muscles bunch. “Please, my lord, you cannot mean it. The man is an ogre. Even before the marriage, he tried to ravish her. You cannot mean to let him have her.”

“Beltar is her betrothed. There is naught I can do.”

“Beltar believes you are to blame. He thinks the girl is your leman. Mayhap if you told him it was so—”