Hugh's forbidding expression should have deepened Alice's alarm, but for some reason it did not. A tiny flame of hope flared to life within her.

"I believe that you are actually more concerned about me than you are about the green stone, sir."

"You are my betrothed wife," Hugh said evenly. "As such, you are my responsibility."

Alice smiled tremulously. "My lord, I do believe you are something of a fraud. You are not nearly so cold as people claim. Today you saved my life and I will never forget it so long as I live."

She set the cloth-shrouded stone on the ground, straightened, and rushed straight into Hugh's arms.

To her astonishment, they closed around her.

The meshed steel links of Hugh's hauberk were cold and hard but the strength in him was oddly comforting. Alice clung to him.

"We will speak more of this later," Hugh said into her hair.

Hugh waited until after the evening meal had been prepared and eaten around the fire before he went to Alice's tent.

It was a very nice tent, he thought wryly as he walked toward it. Large, commodious. Quite comfortable. It even had a partition down the middle inside. It was the only tent that had been brought along on the journey.

It was his tent.

Hugh had assigned it to Alice without bothering to inquire whether or not she would be so gracious as to share its close confines with him. He'd known in advance what her answer would be to such a question.

Last night he had slept near the fire alongside his men. Tonight he had every expectation of doing so again while Alice enjoyed the comparative luxury and privacy of the tent.

Thus far Alice had not only slept alone in the tent, she had taken her meals there, too. As her uncle had sourly noted, she did not appear to have any interest in the conversation of knights and men-at-arms.

Hugh thought of her snuggled into his blankets and had to stifle a groan. A deep, restless need settled into his lower body. He had been too long without a woman. As a man of discipline he refused to be governed by his own lusts but he paid a price.

He knew the gnawing ache of unfulfilled sexual desire all too well. He had experienced it often enough over the years. He cheered himself with the thought that things would be different when he got himself a wife.

That notion naturally led to the all-too-obvious observation that he very nearly did have a wife. For most couples a betrothal was so close to a vow of marriage that few objected if the man and woman chose to consummate the union. In fact, such a consummation virtually ensured that the wedding would take place.

It was Hugh's ill fortune to be betrothed to a lady who considered herself his business partner rather than his future spouse. He wondered what it was going to take to convince Alice that marriage would be an interesting alternative to the convent.

The problem troubled him. It had all seemed so simple at first. Now he was starting to have doubts.

He had many abilities, Hugh thought. He was not without wits. Erasmus of Thornewood had seen to his education and Hugh was well aware that he was far more widely read than most men. But when it came to understanding women, especially a woman such as Alice, Hugh felt his skills to be sadly lacking.

"My lord?" Benedict rose from where he had been sitting near the fire and hurried over to Hugh. "May I have a word with you?"

"Not if it's about your sister," Hugh said.

"But, my lord, I would have you comprehend her better before you go to her. She meant no harm this afternoon."

Hugh paused. "She very nearly got her throat slit this day. Do you wish me to encourage her in such foolishness?"

"Nay, sir, but I'm certain that she will not do anything so rash again. I must point out that you have gotten what you wanted. The green stone is now safely back in your possession. Can you not let matters rest?"

"Nay." Hugh studied Benedict's worried face in the flickering shadows cast by the fire. "Calm yourself, lad. I do not beat women. I will not strike your sister."

Benedict looked unconvinced. "Sir Dunstan has explained that you are angry because you were unable to go against Vincent of Rivenhall in the jousts this afternoon."

"And you fear I shall take out my irritation on Alice?"

"Aye, that is exactly what I fear. Alice has a way of annoying men who seek to order her about, my lord. My uncle was forever losing his temper with her."

Hugh stilled. "Did Sir Ralf ever strike her?"

"Nay." Benedict smiled ruefully. "I do not think he dared do so. He knew she would have her revenge in some fashion that he could not predict."

"Aye." Hugh relaxed. "I gained the impression that Ralf was somewhat intimidated by Alice."

"At times I think he was actually afraid of her," Benedict said quietly. "Alice believed it was because of our mother's reputation."

"Your mother?"

"Aye. She was a great student of herbs, you see. A true mistress of the lore of plants." Benedict hesitated. "She knew the properties of many strange and unusual species, the ones that could heal as well as those that could kill. And she taught Alice about them from a very early age."

An icy sensation chilled the skin of Hugh's arms. "In other words, Sir Ralf feared that Alice might have learned enough from your mother to poison him, is that it?"

"Alice would never do anything so terrible." Benedict was clearly shocked by the notion. "My mother taught her to heal, not to cause harm."

Hugh reached out and gripped Benedict's shoulder. "Look into my face, lad."

Benedict's anxious eyes met his. "Aye, my lord?"

"There are things that must be made plain between Alice and myself. Among them is the fact that as my betrothed wife, she must abide by my instructions. I do not give orders for the sake of whim. I give them for the safety of those in my charge."

"Aye, sir."

"Alice and I may argue over this matter but I give you my oath that I will never strike your sister. You must be satisfied with that."

Benedict searched Hugh's face for a long moment, as though seeking to see clearly through the shadows. Then some of the rigid tension went out of his young shoulders. "Aye, my lord."

Hugh released Benedict. "She will come to understand that while she is in my keeping, she must obey me just as everyone under my command does. Unfortunately, there may be times, such as today, when her very life depends upon her obedience."

Benedict groaned. "I wish you good luck in convincing her of that, my lord."

Hugh smiled slightly. "Thank you. I suspect I shall need it."

He turned and continued toward the black tent. It was a fine night, he reflected. Cool but not cold. Campfires dotted the darkened landscape around Ipstoke. Sounds of drunken revelry, loud laughter, and occasional bits of song drifted on the evening air.

It was a typical evening following a day of jousting. Victorious lords and knights were celebrating their triumphs in ballad and story. The losers were negotiating the generally friendly, but often expensive, ransoms that would be demanded of them.

More than one man would be impoverished by the day's events. Several would be nursing bruises and the occasional broken bone.

But after this fair at Ipstoke was concluded, most of the winners and losers alike would hurry off to the next joust, wherever it was to be held. Such meets were a way of life for many men. The fact that jousting was technically illegal in England did nothing to quell enthusiasm for the sport.

Hugh was one of the few who took little pleasure in the business. For the most part he indulged himself in tournaments only when he wished to provide his men with the training such contests supplied.

Or on those rare occasions when he could ascertain that Vincent of Rivenhall would be his opponent.