"No, no, my dear-of course they aren't." Braving the prevailing chill, Sir Olwyn boldly took Catriona's hand and patted it. "My men have strict orders to return them. Many other landowners would not be so lenient, my dear-I do hope you appreciate my concern for you." Cloyingly paternalistic, he smiled into her eyes. "No, no-you losing beasts is not the point, sweet lady. The point is that they should not have wandered in the first place and should certainly not have caused damage to my fields.

Not thawed in the least, Catriona, very deliberately, withdrew her hand. "What-"

"No, no! Never fear." With a hearty laugh, Sir Olwyn held up one hand. "We'll say no more of it this time. But you really need to pay attention to your stock management, my dear. Of course, being a female, you shouldn't need to worry your pretty head over such matters. A man is what you need, m'dear-"

"I doubt that." With languid ease, Richard strolled into the hall. "At least, not another one."

Sir Olwyn stared, then he bristled. "Who are you?"

Richard raised one brow and looked at Catriona.

With unimpaired calm, she returned her gaze to Sir Olwyn. "Allow me to present Richard Cynster-my husband."

Sir Olwyn blinked, then he goggled. "Husband?"

"As I was trying to tell you, Sir Olwyn, while in the Highlands, I married."

"Me " Richard smiled-a distinctly Cynster smile.

Sir Olwyn eyed it dubiously. He mouthed a silent "Oh," then flushed and turned to Catriona. "Felicitations, my dear-well! It's quite a surprise." His piggy eyes sharpened, he looked intently at her. "Quite a surprise."

"Indeed," Richard drawled, "a surprise all around, I fancy." Smoothly moving forward, he interposed himself between Catriona and Sir Olwyn, ineffably gathering Sir Olwyn within one outstretched arm, turning him and steering him back down the hall. "Glean-it is Sir Olwyn Glean, is it not?-perhaps… you understand I haven't yet had time to fully acquaint myself with the situation here-we've only just arrived, you see… where was I? Ah, yes-perhaps you'd be so good as to explain to me how you identified these wandering cattle as originating from the vale. I gather you didn't see them?"

Discovering himself back at the front door, which Henderson had helpfully set wide, Sir Olwyn blinked, then shook himself. And flushed. "Well, no-but-"

"Ah! Your men verified their identities, then. I'm so glad-they'll be able to tell me the farm from which the cattle escaped."

Sir Olwyn flustered "Well-as to that-"

Catching his eye, Richard dispensed with his drawl. "I will, of course, be taking steps to ensure no similar situation occurs again." He smiled, very slightly, very intently. "I do hope you take my meaning."

Sir Olwyn flushed to the roots of his hair. He threw a stunned look back at Catriona, then grabbed the hat Henderson held out, crammed it on his crown, swung on his heel and clattered down the steps.

Richard watched him go-watched him scramble atop his showy bay and canter out of the courtyard.

At Richard's shoulder, the taciturn Henderson nodded at Glean's departing back. "Good job, that."

Richard thought so. He smiled and handed Henderson his letters, then turned back into the hall. Behind him, Henderson pulled the heavy doors shut.

Catriona hadn't moved from her position before the stairs; Richard strolled up the hall and stopped directly before her.

She met his gaze directly. "Our cattle don't stray beyond the vale-I'd know if they did."

Richard studied her eyes, then nodded. "I'd assumed after reading Glean's letters to Seamus that all that was so much hot air." He took her hand and turned her toward the stairs.

"Sir Olwyn's always trying to create situations out of nothing."

"Hmmm." Placing her hand on his sleeve, Richard started up the stairs.

Catriona frowned. "Where are we going?"

"To our room." Richard waved ahead. "Henderson and Worboys have been doing a little reorganizing-I think we should see if you approve." He smiled at her, effortlessly charming. "And there's one or two other things I'd like you to consider."

Like the appetite he'd worked up dispensing with Sir Olwyn.

It was time for a midday snack.

Four days later, when Catriona again tried to slip from her husband's arms before dawn, he grunted, held her close for an instant, then let her go-and rolled out of bed as well.

"This is really not necessary," Catriona stated as, ten minutes later, she stood in the dimness of the stable and watched Richard saddle her mare. "I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself."

"Hmm."

Catriona glared. She knew it was useless, but it eased her temper, confused as it was. "You could have stayed nicely warm in bed."

Cinching the girths, he looked up and met her eyes. "There's no point in staying nicely warm in bed if you're not in it."

It was her turn to humph. Gathering the reins, she put her hands to the saddle, intending to scramble up. He was around beside her in a blink; lifting her, he dropped her onto her perch.

Glaring, she reminded herself, was wasted effort. She settled her feet in the stirrups. "I'll be back in less than two hours."

Tight-lipped, he nodded and led the way up the long main corridor of the stable to open the door for her.

Halfway along, he abruptly ducked-avoiding a huge horsy head that suddenly appeared over the top of one stall. The head bobbed and danced, huge eyes rolling at the mare, who promptly skittered and shied. Catriona cursed and drew the mare back.

Richard stared at the huge horse, its head considerably higher than his. "Where the devil did you come from?"

"That's Thunderer." Holding the mare still, Catriona looked at the troublemaker. "He's not usually in this section of the stables. Higgins is making repairs in the other building-perhaps that's why he's moved Thunderer here."

The big horse shifted, then snorted and kicked restlessly. Catriona sighed. "I wish he'd calm down. He half demolishes his stall every month."

"He probably just needs more exercise." Climbing up on the gate of the next stall, Richard looked down on the massive beast. The sleek, dappled grey coat had obviously given him his name-that, and the noise he made with his huge hooves, constantly stamping, shifting, kicking. Richard frowned. "Is he a stallion?"

"Yes-he's stallion to the vale's herd. In winter, all the mares are quartered around the other side."

With a snort, Richard dropped back to the ground. "Poor animal." He shot a glance at Catriona. "I know just how he feels." She sniffed; he looked back at the stallion. "You need to give orders for him to be ridden more-at least once a day. Or you'll be paying for it in timber and tending bitten grooms."

"Unfortunately, with Thunderer, we have to pay and tend. He's unridable."

Richard frowned at her, then back at the horse.

"He's a superb horse, a thoroughbred with excellent bloodlines. We needed a stallion like him to improve the herd, and he was a bargain because the gentleman who owned him couldn't ride him."

"Hmm. That doesn't necessarily mean he's unridable."

Catriona shrugged. "He's thrown every groom in the vale. So now, in winter, he just mooches around in a foul temper."

Richard shot her a sharp glance. "That, I can appreciate."

Sticking her nose in the air, Catriona waved at the door. "I have to reach the circle before dawn."

She couldn't hear what Richard grumbled, but he turned and strode on. Keeping to the far side of the corridor, she walked the mare past Thunderer, who whinnied pitifully. "Males!" she muttered under her breath.

Her own male was waiting, holding the door wide; she rode through and turned-and met his eye. And heard herself assure him. "I'll be back soon."