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She cursed herself thoroughly under her breath, then found herself suddenly with her nose to Colin’s chest, thanks to his sudden turning about.

“What?” he demanded.

She looked up at him. “I’m just berating myself for idle thoughts.”

“A dangerous business, thoughts.”

“Aye,” she agreed.

He looked at her for a moment or two more, as if he simply couldn’t believe she was standing in front of him, then grunted and led her into the great hall.

“Food,” he said, sounding vastly relieved. “We should eat.”

Ali couldn’t have agreed more. Perhaps something in her belly would restore the good sense in her head.

She was unaccountably distressed and she couldn’t for the life of her understand why.

She’d slept well. She’d had a goodly bit of exercise that morning in the lists.

Colin had treated her no differently than he had the past two months.

And he’d certainly made it so she was free of both Sir Etienne and Marie for the moment.

What else did she want?

Evening shadows had fallen. Ali sat in her father’s solar in the chair closest to the fire and looked about her.

Her father was there, of course, in the chair opposite her.

He was surrounded by the various and sundry persons of her brothers, who were all listening with rapt attention to the tales being told.

Tales of bloodshed, misery, and woe.

It was Colin, of course, who was regaling them with the best in his repertoire.

Ali leaned back in her chair and looked at her future husband. The firelight softened his features somehow. He would have tried to change that, no doubt, if he’d known. It would have galled him to know that at least in her eyes, he seemed not quite so fierce, not nearly so terrifying.

And that, she supposed, was the key to the man.

She’d given Gillian’s few words to her much thought over the course of the afternoon as she’d watched Colin be about his wooing.

A gruff exterior, but a soft underbelly? Aye, she’d considered that well after their midday meal, when he’d fetched all her gear for her and proceeded, with great diligence, to sharpen all her implements of death.

An enormous ego that fully expected all souls in his vicinity to drop in terror when he approached?

Aye, she’d seen that surely, as her brothers, one by one, had made an appearance, giving Colin a wide and respectful berth.

He’d merely accepted that as his due, then set to making certain they didn’t overtax her with their questions as she sat near the fire he’d commanded be built, that she might dry off and not catch the ague.

And when she’d found herself stifling even the merest hint of a yawn, the lads had been summarily excused and she had been instructed to close her eyes and rest while he considered several manly matters that needed his immediate attention.

She’d suspected then that after seeing to her gear, he found himself fresh out of wooing ideas.

So she’d closed her eyes and considered Gillian’s last words about Colin, that he was a man in whom the right woman could inspire great loyalty and devotion.

And she wondered if she might ever be that woman.

All of which had left her, after her apparently quite lengthy nap in front of the fire in the great hall, finding herself in her father’s solar with Colin holding court.

That all her brothers should have gathered together, as well as her sire, with her in attendance as well, said much about the immensity of Colin’s reputation.

Ali couldn’t remember a time when her entire family had been together thusly. Not since her mother had died.

She turned away from that thought and concentrated on watching her betrothed.

He spoke with absolutely no boast-fulness, merely as if what he stated was simple fact.

Her brothers, however, had to have flattered his ego.

Their cries of dismay, disbelief, and admiration could be nothing but sweet music to Colin’s ears.

For herself, she could only lean back in her chair and smother her smile with her hand. By the saints, the man was absolutely terrifying. What soul with any sense would possibly hoist a sword against him and think he would survive it?

The longer she watched his face, the more she realized that while it did possess no handsomeness whatsoever, it was made up of quite pleasing planes and angles. Manly ones. Ones that inspired something in her she didn’t quite recognize at first.

Admiration.

Loyalty.

An intense desire to linger nearby and know that the man wearing that visage counted her as standing staunchly at his side, supporting him.

There was something to be said for earning the love of a man like that.

So he might bruise her feelings at times.

He might trample heedlessly over her heart in his haste to be about some pressing business or other.

She was beginning to see that none of that really mattered, in the end.

Why would it, when she knew that this was a man who would, if he loved her truly, spare nothing to defend her?

Hold nothing back to protect her? Keep nothing of himself when giving all of it would be what kept her from harm?

By the saints, this was the kind of man for her.

She watched him turn to look at her, then saw his words falter.

He stared at her in surprise, which made her wonder at the expression she was wearing.

She smiled at him, wondering if he could possibly know what she was thinking, or if she could ever tell him without sending him fleeing the other way.

He looked slightly perplexed, then turned back to his audience.

“Where was I?” he asked, scratching his head.

“Decapitating several men with one swing of the sword,” her youngest brother, Pierre, said breathlessly.

“Of course,” Colin said. He shot her another look of consternation, then turned back to the lads, gave himself a good shake, and plunged back into his tale. “It takes a great amount of strength, you know, to manage such a swing. And the angle must be exactly so, lest you notch your blade.”

Her brothers nodded in appreciation.

Ali merely leaned back in her chair and smiled to herself. Aye, the day had been a good one, full of revelations she hadn’t expected, full of realizations that would likely serve her quite well in the future.

“One more tale,” Colin announced suddenly. “I’ve no more time this eve for this kind of thing. I’ve important plans to make.”

“Another siege to lay?” her brother Robert asked eagerly.

Colin looked unsettled. “You might say so. But ‘tis none of anyone’s affair what kind of siege it is. ’Tis my own personal business and I’ve no need of aid.”

“Of course,” several of the lads murmured appreciatively.

Francois huffed. “Wooing my sister, more than likely, is what you’re contemplating.”

Colin shot him a dark look.

Francois shut his mouth abruptly.

Colin turned back to the rest of his audience.

“Manly business is what I’m about. Now, one last tale to prove that such business is what I do best, then you can take yourselves off and ponder what I’ve told you.

Anyone who cares for a demonstration of what I’ve described—” and here he gave Francois a pointed look—“can meet me in the lists tomorrow morning, early.”

Ali closed her eyes. The man was nothing short of terrifying, and his tales were ones made to upset all but the strongest of stomachs.

Fortunately for her, her stomach had seemingly been strengthened over the past pair of months, for she could listen and do nothing but look forward to the business he had to attend to the next day.

With any luck at all, that business included her.

Lists, stables, repairing her gear—it didn’t matter. It would be with Colin nearby and that was enough for her.