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“As if he’s ever seen one,” Aliénore said, sounding quite nauseated over what she’d just seen.

“Well,” Colin said, “my father can count himself beggared in truth now. Dowries for his girls and the rest of his gold to me.”

“I’ll need something for my bride as well,” Peter said. “Don’t forget me.”

“Forget you?” Reginald shouted. “How can I forget any of you? Ungrateful, grasping, selfish—taking an old man’s last crumb of bread from his very lips? How is it possible that you sprang from my loins?”

“It is hard to believe,” Colin grumbled.

Reginald leaped to his feet, swept the entire table with a heated glare, and sniffed mightily.

“I’ll be lying down,” he said. “Trying to regain my strength.”

“Find a comfortable bed and lay claim to it,” Colin advised. “I assumed you’d want to take your vows here now that I’ve taken mine elsewhere.”

His father threw him a murderous look, then stomped from the hall. Colin sighed and went to fetch what his father hadn’t eaten. He set it down in front of him, then invited Aliénore and her father, who flanked him, to help themselves.

“What of me?” Jason asked pointedly.

“Use your charm with the monks,” Colin said, reaching for cheese.

“It doesn’t work with men,” Jason groused.

“Works with Cook at Blackmour,” Colin countered.

“We have a bargain, he and I.”

“What?” Colin asked. “He feeds you and you don’t heap curses upon his head?”

“Nay,” Jason said reluctantly. “I’m helping him woo someone.”

“The saints pity the wench,” Colin said, then thought better of it. “At least she’ll eat well.” He looked around Aliénore at Jason. “Who’s the woman?”

“A certain healer we both know.”

“Berengaria?” Colin asked in surprise.

“Nay, not her.”

“Wise woman. Magda, then.”

“She can’t cook to suit him.”

Colin felt himself pale. “Not Nemain.”

“Impossible,” Aliénore said in disbelief. “I saw them fighting over stew spices.”

“I haven’t yet convinced him that he’d have more success if he bit his tongue,” Jason said.

Colin shivered. He could scarce believe the romantic battles that were being waged around him and he found himself quite relieved that his war was waged and won already. He looked at Aliénore.

“We’ve apparently begun something.”

“I’d say so,” she said with a smile.

By the saints, would that smile never cease to render him unfit for anything useful? He found that he could scarce grope for food and get it to his mouth with any success because all he wanted to do was cast about for something else to say that would bring her smile forth again.

“Colin?”

He blinked, then realized she was talking to him. “What?”

“Does the fare not suit you?”

“I’m having trouble concentrating on it,” he admitted.

Jason, predictably, laughed.

“But,” Colin added, with a glare thrown the lad’s way, “I’m certainly not having trouble concentrating on whom I might destroy in the lists later.”

“They don’t have lists here,” Jason pointed out.

“They have farmers who aren’t opposed to lining their purses for my pleasure.”

“I have a wound,” Jason said, covering his shoulder protectively with his hand.

“You’ll have more if you don’t keep your mirth to yourself.”

Jason only smiled, as if the thought of an afternoon in the lists facing the arguably fiercest warrior in England and France weren’t the most terrifying thing he’d ever contemplated.

“It is merely a pleasure to see you so besotted,” he said.

I’m not besotted was on the tip of his tongue, but Colin realized that he couldn’t lie. So he merely clamped his lips shut and gave Jason his most formidable glare.

“And with such good reason,” Jason added with a charming smile thrown Aliénore’s way. “I only wonder why it took you so long to see through her ruse. Surely no lad could be so beautiful.”

“My thoughts as well,” Colin agreed, trying to muster up enthusiasm for the roast fowl before him.

“You know,” Aliénore said, leaning toward him and speaking quietly, “you should eat.”

He looked at her. “Why?”

“To keep up your strength. For whatever battle you’re waging at present.”

Colin was quite certain that no one would mistake the sudden flush of his face for anything but what it was.

Aye, that sudden and excessively warm breeze blowing through the hall from the kitchens. That was it.

“You have it aright,” he said, hiding behind a leg of fowl. “Shouldn’t neglect my meals.”

Jason had to excuse himself. Colin watched him walk off and felt his eyes narrow at the shaking of Jason’s shoulders. Well, the lad could enjoy his laughter at Colin’s expense now. He would certainly pay for it later.

“I think he enjoys teasing you,” Aliénore remarked, picking at the monks’ offerings.

“Far too much,” Colin said, scowling at his supper. “He didn’t use to attempt it as much in his youth. Either he’s grown bold, or I’ve grown soft.” He slid her a glance. “I think I used to be more intimidating.”

She laughed, but the sound of it only made him want to do something Jason would tease him further for, such as smile in return.

“I find you still quite intimidating, my lord, so never fear that your reputation hangs about you in tatters.”

“Too intimidating to have a go in the lists?” he asked. “Trample a few cabbages for the sheer sport of it?”

“Is it safe, do you think?”

“I can protect us well enough, Aliénore.”

“I never thought otherwise, my lord. I just wonder about Sir Etienne and Marie. If they had the courage to follow us.”

He wondered the same thing, though he’d taken every precaution he could.

He’d kept careful watch during their journeyings across France and seen nothing.

He’d made certain their ship was free of Sir Etienne or any of his cohorts.

And he’d scrutinized every clump of grass and grouping of trees all the way from the shore to Harrowden.

He was certain he hadn’t missed anything.

Besides, Sir Etienne likely didn’t have the stamina to follow them so far. Knowing him, he was boasting of having chased Colin and his bride from French soil.

Colin didn’t care for the lie, but he wasn’t about to sail the stormy seas again to put it to rights.

He sat back with a sigh. “There’s no way to tell,” he said. “All we can do is set our sights on home and get there without incident.”

She looked more worried than he would have liked. “Will they follow us, do you think?”

“If they are fools.”

Her hand closed over his and she smiled gravely. “I am very glad, my lord, that you are for me.”

“And you for me,” he said, with feeling.

“Home, then?”

“Aye. As soon as possible.”

Which likely wouldn’t be as soon as he would have liked, given the four besotted fools who could scarce carry in their burdens of foodstuffs and gaze rapturously into each other’s eyes at the same time. Colin scowled at them in disgust, but they paid him no heed.

“I don’t know if I can watch this,” he muttered under his breath.

“Perhaps that farmer’s field is the place for us,” Aliénore whispered.

“It might be the only privacy we find,” he agreed.

He thought to say more, to reassure her that he could protect her, but let the moment pass. She knew he could, so there was little reason to remind her of the like.

Besides, Sir Etienne had no doubt remained safely and comfortably ensconced on yonder far shore and would not trouble them again, and Marie had likely already found herself another foolish lord to mistreat.

He and Aliénore were perfectly safe trampling cabbages.