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Lionheart healed quickly, due to the daily applications of salve Mair spread on his wound. And to Vanora's excellent care of him and his own determination to regain his strength so he could run the White Knight to ground. Being bested by a mere slip of a lad who doubtless had just won his spurs made him look like a fool.

A sennight after he had been wounded, Lionheart returned to the training field, not actually participating but directing his knights and their squires. When he had voiced his intention to resume his duties after breaking his fast that morning, Mair threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. Vanora was more vocal.

"Are you mad? Tis too soon to participate in strenuous activity," Vanora chided.

"My warriors must train to retain their skills," Lionheart argued. "They are seasoned warriors, unaccustomed to inactivity." He sent her a heated look, his voice low and seductive. "My body craves

stimulation after lying abed so long. Too much time has passed since I made love to my wife." A rosy flush colored Vanora's cheeks. " 'Tis too soon for that, too."

"You do not know me well if you think a small wound can stop me from bedding you. Tonight, vixen,

you and I will do more than sleep in our bed. Have you not missed my attention?"

"Nay, not at all. Excuse me," she said, rising abruptly. "I have duties to attend."

A grin lifted Lionheart's sensual lips as he watched Vanora flee. Her lie did not fool him. When he took

her into his arms tonight and sheathed himself inside her, she would be as eager as he to make love. No amount of denial would convince him that she did not want him. Aye, tonight he would have her, and she would beg him to take her before the night was spent.

His body began to harden at the thought of a naked, writhing Vanora beneath him, her eyes glazed with passion and his name on her lips. A man could die happy with such an arousing image imprinted upon his mind.

That image remained with Lionheart throughout the day. When he began to tire and his ribs reminded him that he was not yet fully healed, he had but to think of his cock inside Vanora's soft body and his exhaustion melted away.

When Lionheart returned to the keep for the midday meal, Vanora was nowhere about. When he inquired after her, he was told she had accompanied Father Caddoc to the village to visit a sick child. A frisson of fear slammed through him, until he learned that a man-at-arms had accompanied her and the priest.

'Twas while he was still enjoying his meal that a messenger arrived from Prince Edward. Lionheart welcomed him and eagerly perused the missive he carried. 'Twas the first he had received from Edward in all the weeks he had been at Cragdon. Giles and Brandon crowded around Lionheart, as eager as he for news of Edward.

"What does the prince say?" Giles asked. "Is Simon de Montfort causing trouble for Henry?"

"Edward says that Henry wriggled out of his promises to the barons by appealing to the Pope to absolve him," Lionheart revealed. "Civil war is inevitable."

"Does he mention Llewellyn?" Brandon asked.

"He says he brings news of Llewellyn and will tell us when he arrives. We are to expect him at Cragdon within a fortnight."

"Is that all?" Giles asked.

"Nay, he writes that he has personal news to impart, and that he is bringing a surprise visitor with him."

"Interesting," Giles mused. "Have you any idea what he is talking about?"

"Nay. Edward loves surprises. It could mean anything."

The news that Edward was on his way cheered his army of discontented men. With civil war in the offing, they were eager to join the conflict. But whose side would Edward take? Lionheart wondered. On one hand there was de Montfort, Edward's uncle by marriage and one of the men in line to rule England after Edward, Henry's rightful heir. There were many who thought Simon de Montfort would make a better ruler than Henry.

On the other hand, Henry, weak though he might be, was still England's king, and Lionheart doubted that Edward would abandon his father, for to do so meant that Edward would lose the throne after Henry's death. Edward was born to rule and would not willingly relinquish that which was his by divine right.

Lionheart did not doubt that Edward would defend the throne and his own ascendancy, rallying to his father's side with his army. Edward might make de Montfort think he was wavering, but the prince was loyal to his country and his father.

As for Edward's personal news, Lionheart was willing to wager it involved his wife, Eleanor of Castile, whom he had wed as a young lad and then left behind when he had returned to England. Had the young princess arrived in England?

It occurred to Lionheart that Edward's arrival would mean an end to his days at Cragdon. He was pledged

to Edward and would follow whichever course the prince chose in the conflict between de Montfort and Henry. And, he thought with more than a little regret, he would have to leave Vanora behind.

The thought left a curious void he was hard put to describe. He had never missed a woman once an affair ended and he moved on. What was there about Vanora that made him reluctant to leave her? * * *

Vanora returned to the keep late that day in a melancholy mood and went directly to the solar to clean up before the evening meal. The child she had attended with Father Caddoc had died. She had been ill since birth with a lung ailment and her death had been expected, but Vanora still grieved along with the parents.

Lionheart was waiting for her in the solar. "I hoped I would not have to fetch you home," he said in greeting. " 'Tis late. Is the child well?"

"She died," Vanora said.

"I am sorry for it. Have the parents other children?"

"Aye, but they still mourn her."

"News arrived from Edward that might cheer you," Lionheart said. "He is on his way to Cragdon."

Vanora frowned. "Why should that cheer me?"

"Mayhap because I will be leaving with the prince when he returns to England."

Vanora went still. 'Twas what she wanted, what she had prayed for, was it not? Why, then, did she feel empty, as if a void had opened in her heart?

"That is indeed good news," she choked out. "I cannot wait until Wales is free of all Englishmen."

"Do not count on regaining control of your keep," Lionheart warned. "Edward does not easily give up what he has won. Cragdon is a prize he will want to add to his Welsh holdings. 'Tis possible he will leave a seneschal and a company of knights to manage the estate in his absence."

"What will become of me and those who depend upon me?" Vanora asked.

Lionheart shrugged. "I know not. I shall ask Edward to allow you to remain, if that is your wish."

"My wish is to be left in peace."

"Is that your only wish, Vanora? Do you not care that once we part we may never meet again?"

I care but dare not admit it. "Nay, why should I?"

"We are wed and have shared a bed, vixen."

"Will you miss me, Lionheart?" she challenged.

Vanora was shocked when his face expressed a myriad of emotions. Was it possible he cared for her? What nonsense, she chided herself. Lionheart possessed, he did not love.

"I will miss having you in my bed," Lionheart admitted. He tipped her face up to his. "And I will miss our spirited conversations. Few women challenge me as you do, and I shall regret having to leave before taming you."

Vanora blew out an angry breath. "I am not an animal in need of taming. I am a woman with a mind of her own and the courage to express it."

"Indeed," Lionheart agreed. "My stay at Cragdon has been a most interesting experience. There are many things I shall miss and some I will not. You are a beautiful woman; my lust and your priest made you my wife, but I cannot regret our wedding for you have made my time at Cragdon . . . entertaining, to say the least. One thing I do regret, however, is my unfinished business with the White Knight."

"Why can you not forget him?" Vanora implored. "Doubtless he is someone unimportant."

"You may be right, but nevertheless the knave has embarrassed me." His voice hardened. "Mayhap I will return one day, seek him out and slay him."

Vanora shuddered. She prayed that day never came. The day Lionheart learned the truth would be the last day of her life.

"Are you ready to sup? My stomach is voicing its hunger."

"Not yet. I will join you after I wash and change."

Lionheart departed, leaving Vanora much to think about. His admission that he would miss certain things had surprised her. Was he referring to her? Though he had not actually admitted he cared for her, she would savor his words long after he was gone, when loneliness plagued her.

She would miss Lionheart more than she cared to admit. He had managed to touch her heart even though her mind utterly rejected him. He was a man like no other. He was hard when it counted, yet his tenderness when he made love to her belied that hardness. He was strong of mind and body, yet fair when it came to

dispensing justice. Daffid was proof of Lionheart's fairness, for he had been neither tortured nor starved. He was, in fact, quite comfortable in the tower.

Vanora took her time washing and dressing, her thoughts dwelling on Lionheart's imminent departure. 'Twas good that he was leaving, for she was becoming too involved in his life. Liar. She realized she was not being honest with herself. Though his departure was what she had prayed for, she did not want Lionheart to leave.

Sighing with regret for what could have been and what would never be, Vanora completed her toilette and left her chamber.

Throughout the long meal, Lionheart's intent gaze rested on Vanora so often she found his scrutiny unnerving. His eyes were the color of smoke, and the harsh planes of his face were stark with barely suppressed desire. His heavy hand rested on her thigh, teasing her flesh as she tried to concentrate on her food.

"Finish your meal," he whispered into her ear. "Tonight you will find me an eager lover."

When had she ever found him less than eager? "Do not embarrass me, Lionheart. Your men are watching us."

"Let them. They know what I want." He sent her a wolfish grin. "What we both want."

"You are far too sure of yourself, sir knight. I do not want you."

He rose and held out his hand. "Come, wife, I intend to prove you wrong. We have but a fortnight to indulge ourselves."

Her heart pounding with excitement, Vanora placed her hand in his, mesmerized by the husky tone of his voice and his smoky gaze. She neither heard the buzz of voices as they left the hall nor saw the exchange of knowing looks.

The moment Lionheart closed the door behind them, he whispered her name. "Vanora."

She looked up at him. There was something intensely, dangerously sexual in his gaze, and it aroused a matching response in her.

"Do you want me, Vanora?"

Want him? She wanted him like a wild animal yearned for her mate. But doubtless he knew that. She opened her mouth to deny her body's needs, but words failed her.

He gave an ironic smile, then captured her mouth, kissing her endlessly, his passion stunning. She made a small choked sound deep in her throat and responded with swift intensity, painfully aware that when he left her she would never see him again. Their tongues met and clung, their breath mingled, their arms unerringly finding each other. There was a vivid immediacy in his kisses, as if he too realized their time together was limited and wanted to use it to the best advantage.

Lionheart tore off her clothing with indecent haste, then removed his own, tossing everything aside with careless disregard. Chances were he would never know Vanora's passion again after he left. Never feel the warm pressure of her skin. Or feel the pebbled texture of her nipples with his tongue. Or hear her moans of pleasure when he caressed her wet, intimate flesh.

Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to their bed and lay down beside her. Though he ached with the need to thrust inside her, he deliberately paced himself, wanting to prolong her pleasure as well as his. He kissed her, her mouth, her chin, the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat. His left hand drifted beneath her buttock, steadying her as the fingers of his right hand teased through her dark curls, between her silky folds to fondle the sensitive petals of her sex.

Waves of heat surged through her. She was on the verge of splintering when his hand suddenly left her. A choked sound of protest escaped her lips and she caught his hand, trying to return it.

"Not yet, sweetheart, 'tis too soon," Lionheart murmured.

Her labored breathing slowed as he regarded her through slumberous eyes. Tentatively she lifted herself against him; words were superfluous as she silently begged for more. He kissed her shoulder; she arched her neck. Dropping his head, he caught her breast in his mouth, drawing strongly upon her nipple. She gasped, suspended on the pinnacle of burgeoning passion. Her nipples tightened, her breath grew harsh, and she writhed beneath him.

Dazed by passion, she could scarcely breathe, much less think as his fingers returned to her weeping center. Then those talented fingers entered her, sliding in and out at the same time his thumb brushed her sensitive nub. A scream rose in her throat. He caught it in his mouth, smothering it with a kiss. "Please," Vanora murmured brokenly.

"Please what?"

"M-make love to me."

"Soon, very soon."

Then suddenly his fingers were gone, replaced by his mouth, his breath hot against her as he teased and taunted the swollen folds with his tongue and mouth.

Lionheart felt her limbs tremble, heard her catch her breath as she splintered. When she had quieted, he rose up and reversed their positions, bringing her atop him. Then he thrust hard and deep inside her. Her blissful look set him aflame. Her breasts, ripe and firm, swayed before him in wanton abandon. Lifting his head, he caught a nipple and suckled, savoring the heat of her silken sheath as she began to move on him.

She was killing him. She arched her neck and he kissed her there. His heartbeat thundered as they moved toward completion. He wanted to grasp her hips and hasten the pace, but he gritted his teeth and persevered. Instead he moved as she commanded, so near to bursting he groaned with each stroke. He was going to die a happy man . . . a victim of sexual excess.

At last she cried out, her body convulsing with each contraction. He watched her through narrowed lids, enjoying the sensation of her sheath clamping around his cock. Not until she collapsed on his chest did he allow himself to plunge deep and fill her with his seed.

Vanora sighed and relaxed against him, waiting for him to stir. He made no move to leave her, remained inside her still, a part of her. After a time, she could feel him growing hard again. Her eyes, still glazed from his lovemaking, flew open, surprised to see him gazing up at her curiously, as if puzzled by his response to her.

A tiny hope bloomed in her bosom, a flickering flame of yearning that he might care for her, that he would miss her, though he would never love her, she was sure. Then suddenly she found herself on her back, with Lionheart looming over her, his expression fiercely possessively and his eyes aglow with renewed desire.

"Surely you cannot. . ." Vanora gasped. "You just..."

"You continually misjudge my prowess," Lionheart hissed as he began to move strongly inside her.

Wantonly she locked her legs around his back and arched her hips to take him deeper, to meet his thrusts again and again, until her loins quickened and her breath seized. Shock waves rippled through her entire body, sending her reeling toward completion. How could she respond so quickly after her strong climax just moments ago? she wondered before her thoughts scattered. What magical hold did Lionheart have over her senses?

Then the earth dropped out from beneath her. Sensation burst through her like a volcanic explosion. It was only dimly that she felt the shudders undulating through Lionheart's body before he collapsed atop her in a boneless heap.

She heard him groan when he pulled out and rolled over to lie beside her. She rose up on her elbow, her eyes filled with concern.

"You hurt yourself," she chided.

" Tis naught."

"You have not given your ribs enough time to heal. Men," she snorted. "They are as randy as goats and ever ready to rut."

" 'Twas well worth it," Lionheart said, wincing as he shifted positions.

"Let me check your bandage. You may have opened your wound."

Hopping out of bed, Vanora lifted the candlestick and held it above his bandaged chest. "No blood," she said with a sigh of relief. "Cracked ribs take time to heal. You did not wait long enough before"—she blushed— "engaging in strenuous exercise."

"Did I not tell you I intend to make the most of the fortnight left to us?" He sent her a mocking grin. "You did beg me to make love to you, did you not?"

"Your conceit is boundless," Vanora charged. "As you well know, I had no choice in the matter. You have the experience and knowledge to make me want you. My body is not my own, but yours to command."

" 'Tis as it should be," Lionheart said with the arrogance of one aware of his own appeal and proud of it.

Vanora knew better than to argue the point, for she knew it would do little good. Instead, she changed the subject.

"Think you Edward will accept our marriage?" She felt him stiffen. "Is that what you want?" Vanora grappled long and hard with his question. Nay, 'twas not what she wanted, she decided. She opened her mouth to reply when a sudden thought occurred to her. What if Lionheart left her with child? His seed had not found fertile

ground yet, but the possibility still existed. If their brief union produced a child, she wanted Lionheart to acknowledge him or her.

Swallowing hard, Vanora said, "Mayhap 'twould be best if the marriage stood."

He gave her a blank look. "You want to remain married to me, even though 'tis inevitable that we will part?"

She nodded. "If we create a child during our brief marriage, I want him or her to be legitimate." Lionheart did not respond. He could not. Speech had deserted him. He had never considered children, for he'd never intended to wed. Marrying Vanora had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Admittedly, he enjoyed bedding her, even liked their verbal sparring. But children had never been a priority with him. He had naught to leave a wife and child but his name. His father had seen to that.

True, he would inherit his father's title upon his death, but he never intended to use it, for he preferred to be recognized for his deeds as a knight and not for an empty earldom. 'Twas not that he was penniless, for knighthood had its own rewards, but he was landless.

"Lionheart, did you not hear me?" Vanora prodded. "Do you agree with me?"

"A child never crossed my mind. Are you . . . have I given you a babe, Vanora?"

"Not that I am aware of." Her chin tilted upward. "I care not what you think of me, but I would have you acknowledge our child should there be one. I cannot bear the thought of our child being branded a bastard. I think 'tis best that we let our marriage stand."

"Mayhap you will not conceive," he ventured.

"Mayhap you are right, but only God has control over that. You may have already planted your seed inside me."

His gaze slid down to her stomach. "I suppose having a child would not be the worst thing to happen to me."

"How kind of you to say so." The hard edge to her voice should have warned him. "But since a child is merely speculation at this point, mayhap you should forget I mentioned it. Once you leave Cragdon, you need never look back. Forget I ever existed."

Never look back? Forget Vanora? Somehow that thought produced a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wished it were a simple matter of erasing these weeks at Cragdon from his mind. Unfortunately, that was impossible. Vanora had given him something no other woman had. He had no idea what it was, could not even describe it, but he knew it existed.

Suddenly it came to him. No one had ever cared what happened to him. Whether she acknowledged it or not, Vanora cared. Lionheart was astute enough to know when a woman's feelings were engaged.

What about his own feelings? He could not afford to have feelings, he decided. He was Edward's man and would follow him to the ends of the earth if need be. He had no room in his life for a wife and even less for a child.

"Regardless of what you think, Vanora, I am not completely devoid of feeling. I will acknowledge any child we make during our brief marriage. And I will entreat Edward to allow you to remain at Cragdon. I own no land or keep where you may live, so taking you to England is out of the question."

"I refuse to live in England, so it matters not. If I am forced to leave Cragdon, I shall find my own way, but it will be in my own country."

"You must do what is best for you. Know, however, that I will return to learn whether I have a child. No matter where you go, I shall find you."

It surprised Lionheart to realize he spoke the truth. He wanted, nay, needed to know if a child resulted from their coupling. He would not abandon his son or daughter. He had no idea how he intended to keep track of Vanora and his offspring while campaigning with Edward, but it never occurred to him to shirk his duty. * * *

The following days sped by with impossible haste. Vanora tried to keep her hands busy and her mind occupied with thoughts other than those of her future. She and Lionheart had not had another serious discussion, and she supposed that was the way he wanted it. Unfortunately, it was not so easy for her. She had come to the painful realization that Lionheart had engaged her emotions, though she had desperately tried to avoid that kind of entanglement. When had it happened? How had her enemy managed to make her care for him?

What would he do to her if he learned she was the White Knight?

She shuddered. The thought was a frightening one, and she prayed that Lionheart would never learn her secret.

* * *

A vanguard from Edward's party arrived to announce the prince's imminent arrival. The progression from

London had taken less time than expected, and the prince was but two days' journey from Cragdon. Lionheart decided to ride out the next morning to meet him and advised Sir Giles to have a dozen men ready to ride with him at dawn.

That night he made love to Vanora until exhaustion claimed them both. Then he awakened her in the middle of the night, teasing another response from her. Then, as the church bells tolled prime, she turned into his arms and he made love to her again, as if it might be the last time. And it might be. Edward could leave the day after he arrived, taking Lionheart with him.

He left Vanora sleeping soundly, worn out from vigorous lovemaking. He found Alan waiting in the hall for him. After he broke his fast with bread, cheese and ale, he and Alan descended the stairs to the armory, where his squire helped him don his chain mail. Sir Giles arrived a few minutes later.

"The men are ready to ride," Giles said.

Lionheart turned to Alan. "Have you seen to my provisions?"

"Aye, Lionheart. All is in readiness."

Lionheart nodded approval. "I am anxious to see Edward. Doubtless much has happened in England in our absence."

"Think you we will leave Cragdon?" Giles asked.

"Aye, 'tis inevitable."

"I, for one, am glad," Giles admitted. "And I am sure I speak for all the men. We are growing bored with inactivity. The Welshmen are no threat to England without Llewellyn. We are warriors, eager to go where Edward leads."

The cadre of knights and their squires rode out from Cragdon just as the sun poked out from a bank of clouds, promising a fair day. They camped that night on a rocky hillside, dined from their rations and bedded down. They rolled out of their blankets before dawn and continued on their way. The sun had just risen when Lionheart spied Edward's party, with Edward himself in the lead, sitting proud and tall in the saddle.

Spurring his steed, Lionheart rode out to meet his prince. Edward saw him and waved.

" 'Tis about time you returned, Lord Edward," Lionheart said as he reined in beside Edward. "We are moldering at Cragdon."

Edward removed his helm; the sun reflected off his golden hair, creating a halo around his head. Lionheart thought he had never looked more kingly.

" 'Tis good to see you looking fit and healthy," Edward replied.

"What news of Simon de Montfort? Have you decided to cast your lot with him?"

"Nay. I have changed my allegiance from de Montfort to Henry. Should de Montfort prove victorious, he will name himself king and deny me my birthright. I cannot let him do that. The crown is mine by divine right. No one shall take it from me."

"Have you news of Llewellyn?"

"Aye. He has fled to London and signed a peace treaty between England and Wales. There is talk of a betrothal between him and Simon de Montfort's daughter."

"God's nightgown! So we are at peace with Wales now."

"Aye, but once I am king I am determined to bring both Wales and Scotland under English rule. We will speak of that and my plans for the future later. I have yet to impart the most exciting, the most wondrous news."

"You had best tell me before you burst," Lionheart laughed.

"I am in love!" Edward crowed.

"That is no news. I cannot count the times you have been in love."

"Eleanor has arrived from Castile."

"Your wife? You are in love with your wife?"

"You should see her, Lionheart. She is sweet and shy and lovely beyond words. I have truly lost my heart to her."

Lionheart wanted to laugh at the tall, golden youth but dared not. Apparently, love was a serious business to the boy who would one day be king. "Does she return your feelings?"

"Aye, I think so. I am ready to commit myself wholly to my wife. If Eleanor is willing, we will consummate our marriage upon my return to London."

Silently Lionheart wished Edward luck with his bride. More luck than Lionheart had had with his own wife. That thought brought on another. He had yet to apprise Edward of his marriage to Vanora.

He was still thinking about how to break the news when Edward said, "Enough of me and serious matters. Are you not curious about the surprise I brought you?"

"I can think of naught that would surprise me."

Grinning, Edward turned in his saddle and raised a hand.

Lionheart paid scant heed to Edward's words, for he was still considering the nature of Edward's surprise. "Lionheart, behold your surprise," Edward said gleefully.