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Thomas found himself looking into light brown eyes that had a hint of orange to them.

He’d never see that color in his entire life, and they were set within a remarkably beautiful face.

Lady Bowlin had long, dark lashes, arched brows, and a sweetly oval face.

Her skin was like cream and her lips were rather lush and soft-looking.

She wore a wimple around her head, as befitting her widowhood status, but he could see bits of dark hair peeking out.

Truly, Thomas was taken aback by what he saw and, for a moment, he simply stared at her.

This is Desmond’s widowed sister?

“My lady,” he said after a moment. “Welcome to Wark Castle. You have a very interesting name.”

The woman smiled, revealing straight teeth that were quite lovely, like the rest of her.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said. “It is a family name; my mother’s maiden name, in fact.

It is very kind of you to allow my companion and me to stay here for the night on my way to Edenside.

I am sure my brother has told you of our destination. ”

Thomas nodded; her voice was soft and sweet, melodic. It assaulted his ears in a most pleasurable way.

“He has told me,” he said, suddenly very interested in Desmond’s sister. Those pale brown eyes had his attention. “Surely you are joining us for supper in the hall. I should like to hear about your plans for the charity.”

Maitland nodded eagerly. “I do have plans,” she said. “I hope to make it one of the biggest and best in all the north. From what I understand, it is not a very big one right now, but I hope to change that. Do you get to Kelso very often?”

Thomas nodded as he held out his elbow to her, politely inviting her to take it.

“Absolutely,” he lied. He hadn’t been to Kelso in months.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had been there before that, but he suddenly saw himself visiting there much more often.

“If you are ready to go to sup, I was just heading to the hall myself. I would be honored if you would permit me to escort you.”

Maitland didn’t even hesitate to take his arm.

“It is my pleasure, my lord,” she said. “Mayhap we can even discuss my charity, if you are interested. It is my intention to find a great patron for my charity and, mayhap, the House of de Wolfe would consider it. It is a great house with a great reputation.”

Thomas all but shoved Desmond out of the way as he led Maitland from the keep. She was clutching his arm, already talking about money for a charity she wasn’t even in charge of yet, but he didn’t care. A pretty face had a way of making him listen quite attentively.

“You honor me by saying so,” he said unpretentiously, a complete departure from the normally arrogant knight. “My father is a great man, mayhap one of the greatest men who has ever lived, and he has worked hard to establish our family in the north.”

As Thomas lost himself in conversation with Maitland, Desmond watched the pair walk from the keep, listening to Thomas say things he wouldn’t normally say.

Had he been to Kelso often? Of course not.

And since when did Thomas speak modestly about the greatness of de Wolfe?

Something odd was afoot and Desmond found himself shuffling after the couple, listening to Thomas behave in a way that Desmond had seen before.

The hard-fighting, hard-living knight with enough pride to sink an island under the sheer weight of his ego was behaving rather charmingly, and that always indicated his intentions.

Not good intentions, either.

Confused, and not at all amused, Desmond was going to have to keep an eye on the man.

He’d been with Thomas on too many occasions when the man charmed his way into a woman’s bed.

It had, at times, started out like this– flattery, modesty, and charisma.

Thomas had a wagonload of it when the mood struck him.

Or a woman appealed to him.

Desmond realized with chagrin that he was going to have to make sure his very own sister didn’t end up in Thomas’ bed this night. But he could already see it was going to be a hard fight. Like any wolf, when the animal was on a scent, it was difficult to shake it.

And Thomas de Wolfe was no different.

*

He had been nothing as she had expected.

In truth, Maitland hadn’t known what to expect from her brother’s liege, and a de Wolfe, but she found Thomas de Wolfe handsome, friendly, and intelligent.

So handsome.

He was a tall man, though she’d seen taller, but he had enormously broad shoulders and the biggest hands she’d ever seen, scarred and battle-worn.

Everything about him was muscular and powerful, but it was his appearance that had her notice– he had long, dark hair that went past his shoulders, hair that glistened like a raven’s wing in the light, and eyes that looked like dark, burnished gold.

His square jaw was covered by the beginnings of a beard, but when he smiled, she could see an enormous dimple in his left cheek.

She rather liked that dimple.

Truly, he was a specimen the likes of which she’d never seen and although she wasn’t one to become giddy over anyone, within the first few minutes of knowing Thomas, he seemed to have the ability to cause her stomach to quiver.

The first time he’d smiled at her, flashing white teeth with big canines, it was enough to send her belly into a bit of a state.

Odder still, she didn’t mind one bit.

Talk of her charity had been brief, as the conversation had turned to Wark Castle and the House of de Wolfe in general the moment they had entered the hall.

Desmond seemed to be hovering over her, enough to be astonishingly annoying, and every time Thomas would try to speak to her, Desmond was there to insert his own opinion or knowledge into the conversation.

It didn’t take Maitland long to figure out that Desmond was more than likely feeling left out, as they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years, so she reluctantly turned her attention to her brother from time to time.

If the poor man was so desperate to talk to her, then she would oblige him.

But Thomas didn’t give up so easily. He didn’t seem to like Desmond taking her attention away from him.

After telling the servants not to wait the meal on his father and Lord de Vauden, he put himself back into the conversation between brother and sister.

Maitland was quite happy to pay attention to him again, but Desmond wrangled her focus away with talk of their father, something Thomas didn’t have much to say about because he didn’t know the man.

Feeling disappointed, Maitland begrudgingly focused on her brother again.

“One of the last times I saw you was before our father died, Mae,” Desmond said as he poured her a measure of wine from the pitcher on the table. “Did he ever come see you in Newcastle before he passed?”

Maitland took a gulp of the sweet, rich wine. “I’d not had much to do with Normand de Ryes since my marriage to Henry,” she said. “He made it clear that he wanted to be rid of me, so I obliged him.”

Desmond could see the stiffness in her manner when she spoke of their father, which wasn’t something he’d ever seen from her before. “I would like to think that he married you to Henry to provide a better life for you.”

Maitland cast him a long glance. “He married me to Henry to be rid of me,” she said.

“Des, you and I have hardly had time to sit and talk to one another over the past five years, so permit me to tell you the truth behind Normand– you were away to foster from a young age, so you did not see how it was at home with him. He lamented your absence daily and cursed me that I was not born a male. Did I ever tell you that?”

Desmond was forced to shake his head. “You did not,” he said, distressed. “You should have.”

Maitland lifted her shoulders as she turned back to her wine. “It does not matter,” she said. “It was not your fault. But you hated Henry; I know you did. I saw you berate Father for agreeing to the betrothal.”

“Of course I did. Henry was a fool.”

“Father did it simply to be rid of me.”

The pleasant evening was taking a downturn.

Desmond had always known that was his father’s reason for marrying Maitland to a middle-aged knight with a less than stellar reputation, but he wasn’t going to admit it.

To do so would make it seem as if his sister wasn’t worth anything, and she was.

He had a great deal of respect for her. Maitland was educated and clever, and she was certainly worth far more than their father gave her credit for.

“And it was fortunate for you that he did,” he said, trying to sound encouraging.

“He married you to Henry and the man got himself killed, which has allowed you to commit yourself to a pious life of servitude. You are now going to Edenside to take over the foundling home and you will make an excellent life for the less fortunate. Mayhap, this is what God had in mind for you all along, Mae.”

Maitland turned to him, a forced smile on her face.

She didn’t exactly look at it like that.

All she’d ever wanted was to marry a man she at least liked and have a dozen children of her own.

Now, she was relegated to taking care of children who had no parents.

She would never have children of her own.

If that was God’s plan for her, she wasn’t happy about it, but she had little choice in the matter.