Calvert had promptly seized the wooden lectern and launched into a tirade against the evils of women. It was a tried-and-true theme, one familiar to everyone present. Visiting priests and wandering monks were excessively fond of sermons that chastised women and warned men of their temptations.

"Ye frail, sinful daughters of Eve, know ye well that your only hope of salvation lies in submitting yourself to the will of your husbands. You must accept his power over you for it is ordained by the Divine Creator."

Alice fumed. She glanced at Hugh out of the corner of her eye. He looked bored. She crossed her arms and began to tap the toe of her soft boot.

"The fires of hell burn hottest for those weak women who dare to raise themselves above men."

The women endured the monk's tirade with barely concealed disgust. They had heard it all before, many times over.

Joan shifted slightly in her seat and leaned forward to whisper to Alice. "My apologies, my lady. I know this was not the sort of preaching you wanted this morning."

"They dare speak aloud in church," Calvert thundered, "uncaring that men of virtue do not wish to hear the noise of their prattling tongues. They govern religious houses, taking authority upon themselves as though they had the rights and privileges of men."

Alice narrowed her eyes at Calvert. He continued to hold forth, either oblivious to her growing annoyance or unconcerned with it. His piercing gaze sizzled into her.

"Some practice their lustful ways on even the strongest and most noble of knights. Woe be to the man who listens to the whispers of such a female. He shall find his strength weakened. He will discover himself to be at her mercy and that mercy is the work of the devil."

Alice froze. This was becoming personal, she realized.

"She shall use the treacherous tricks of her sinful body to lure her victim into hidden places. There she will fall upon him as a succubus in the night."

"By the Saints," Alice muttered. One question was answered. Calvert had seen her lying on top of Hugh in the cavern. Embarrassment dissolved in a torrent of anger.

"Be warned." Calvert's gaze swerved toward Hugh. "Every man is at risk. He who would keep his rightful place in the natural order of the world must be forever alert. He must don armor against the ways of women, even as he clads himself in steel before he goes to war."

"Enough," Alice leaped to her feet. "I will hear no more of this foolish harangue, monk. I requested prayers for my betrothed husband's safe journey, not this nonsense."

There was a collective gasp from the crowd. Every head turned toward Alice. Out of the corner of her eye Alice saw Hugh smile.

"The woman who is not properly governed by a man is an affront to all righteous men everywhere." Calvert glanced quickly at Hugh, as though expecting assistance from that quarter. " 'Tis the duty of a husband to control his wife's tongue."

Hugh did not move. He watched Alice with great interest and more than a hint of his familiar, cool amusement.

"Come down from that pulpit, Calvert of Oxwick," Alice ordered. "You are not welcome to preach here. You slander and berate all the good women of this village and those of the convent with the bitter poison of your words."

Calvert leveled an accusing finger at her. "Hear me." His voice shook with passionate rage. "This poison you speak of is but an antidote for the evils of your female nature. You would do well to swallow it as the sound medicine it is and thereby save your immortal soul."

"I shall entrust my soul to those who comprehend the true meaning of divine compassion, monk, not to you. I want you gone from this church and from this village today. I will not tolerate these insults."

Calvert's face contorted with fury. "Your red hair and green eyes bear witness to your wild nature, lady. I can only pray that your future lord and master may crush your unruly will with his own before you cause grave harm to his house and his soul."

"Lord Hugh can take care of himself," Alice retorted. "Begone, monk."

"I do not do the bidding of a mere woman."

Hugh stirred. It was a very slight move, the barest shift of his powerful shoulders, accompanied by a gathering coldness in his eyes, but it instantly riveted the attention of everyone present.

"You'll do the bidding of this particular woman," he said very calmly. "She is my betrothed. The ring she wears on her finger is evidence of her authority. A command from her is the same as a command from me."

A soft aaaah of whispered satisfaction echoed through the tiny church. The people of Scarcliffe grasped their lord's meaning immediately. Alice's power had been firmly established.

"But… but, my lord," Calvert sputtered, "surely you do not intend to turn this pulpit over to a woman."

"You heard my betrothed," Hugh said. "Take yourself off, monk. My lady prefers to hear other prayers than yours."

For a moment, Alice feared that Calvert was about to suffer a fit. His mouth worked, his eyes bulged, and his whole body contorted as though every muscle convulsed.

Anticipation rose from the crowd in a wave.

And then, without a word, Calvert grabbed his staff and stormed out of the church.

A hushed silence fell. The assembled throng stared in wonder at Alice, who was on her feet. Hugh gazed at her politely as though curious to see what she would do next.

Alice was dazed, not by what she had just done, but by the fact that Hugh had supported her with the full weight of his authority.

His action had been no small gesture of indulgence, she realized. It went much deeper than that. He had made it clear to one and all that she wielded true power on these lands.

This was the second time that he had demonstrated respect for her decisions. The first occasion had occurred yesterday afternoon when he had allowed her to reinstate Elbert as steward. And now he had defied a representative of the Church itself to uphold her choice of preachers.

He had shown her great respect, she thought, elated. Such respect from Hugh the Relentless was surely a hard-won prize. He would award it only to those he truly trusted.

"Thank you, my lord," she managed to whisper.

Hugh inclined his head very slightly. The morning light streaming through the windows heated the amber in his eyes. "Mayhap we should proceed with the prayers, madam. I would like to start on my journey sometime before sunset."

Alice blushed furiously. "Of course, my lord." She looked at Joan. "Pray continue, Prioress. My lord and his companions have a long ride ahead of them."

"Aye, my lady." Joan rose with a grace that bespoke her own noble heritage. "I would be delighted to pray for Lord Hugh's safe journey. And for his speedy return. I am certain that everyone present feels the same."

Several of the nuns smiled broadly at Alice as she sank back down onto the bench. The only one whose countenance remained somber was Katherine. Alice wondered briefly if she was suffering one of her bouts of melancholia.

Joan returned sedately to the front of the church. She concluded her small, cheerful sermon regarding caution on the roads and then closed with prayers for the travelers' safe journey.

The final prayers were spoken in a very fine Latin. It was highly doubtful that anyone other than Alice, Hugh, Benedict, and the nuns understood the actual words but that didn't stop the villagers from enjoying them.

Alice closed her eyes and offered up a small, silent prayer of her own. Dearest Lord, take care of these two people whom I love so much and guard well those who travel with them.

After a few minutes she slid her palm a short distance along the wooden bench until she touched Hugh's hand. He did not look down but his fingers reached out to close very tightly around her own.