"Have you come to tell me that you wish to break our betrothal contract?" she asked coolly.

"Will you pursue me through the courts if I do choose to sever it?"

She bristled. "Don't be ridiculous. We made a bargain, if you will recall."

"Aye." Hugh straightened and came away from the wall. He reached down, grasped her by the shoulders, and lifted her gently to her feet. "You would not sue me for breach of promise, would you?"

"Nay, my lord."

"In fact, you would be only too glad to escape into a convent. Is that not so?"

She stiffened. "My lord, I know that you are very angry about what I did, but I would have you know—"

"Hush." Hugh's eyes gleamed. "We will not speak again of what happened yesterday."

She blinked. "We won't?"

"After much contemplation I have been forced to conclude that what occurred yesterday at Rivenhall was not your fault."

"It wasn't?"

"Nay." He dropped his hands from her shoulders. "It was my fault and mine alone."

"It was?" Alice felt as though she had stepped through a magical window only to emerge into a strange land where the normal logic of the world was slightly askew.

"Aye." Hugh folded his arms across his broad chest. "I did not set clear limits on the authority I granted to you. I did not anticipate all possible situations. I did not make allowance for your soft heart."

"You could hardly have done that, sir." Alice began to feel quite waspish. "Given the fact that you do not seem to know what it is to possess a heart. And you may as well know that even if you had expressly forbidden me to ride to Rivenhall's defense, I would have disobeyed you."

Hugh smiled faintly. "You do not know when to stop, do you, Alice? And to think the world calls me Relentless. You could give me lessons in the art."

"I still maintain, my lord, that if you had been here to see young Reginald plead for help, even the stone you use in place of a heart would have melted."

"Unlikely. I would have kept my eye on the ultimate goal."

"Sir, that boy is your blood kin, whether you like it or not. Furthermore, he and his mother had nothing to do with what happened in the past. None of you living today had anything to do with it. Let the sins of the past rest."

"Enough." Hugh cut off the flow of her words with a finger on her lips. "It may surprise you to know that I did not come here to quarrel with you."

"Nay?" Alice gave him a look of mock astonishment.

"Nay." Hugh's jaw tightened. "Not another word on the subject of yesterday's affairs at Rivenhall, Alice. What's done is done."

She gazed mutely up at him, intensely conscious of the exciting roughness of his callused finger against her soft mouth. For a moment he simply looked at her as though he sought some sign in her widened eyes.

"Alice, on the last occasion when we were in these caves you told me that the reason you had never before made love was that you had never before met a man who appealed to you."

" 'Twas the truth." Not quite all of the truth. The real truth is that I had never before met a man whom I could love, she added silently. "What of it?"

He did not answer. Instead he pulled her close, anchored her tousled head with one big hand, and kissed her.

The dark passion in his embrace was very close to the surface. Alice shivered beneath its onslaught.

Always she had been aware of the depths of his control when he held her in his arms. But today she sensed that he was fighting the steel bonds that he had imposed on himself. She wondered what awesome force had brought him to the edge of his own limits of control.

She tasted the residue of his anger and frustration in his kiss. His mouth moved on hers, relentless in its demands. She thought that she could actually hear the storm winds that howled across his soul.

But he would not, could not hurt her, Alice realized suddenly. A wondrous joy leaped within her. Her arms stole softly around his neck.

Hugh raised his head just as she moaned and parted her lips for him. He gazed broodingly at her mouth. " 'Tis time we returned to the keep. There is much to be done before we are wed tomorrow."

Alice stifled a groan. She drew a deep breath and tried to steady herself. "My lord, mayhap we should wait a while longer before we take our vows."

"Nay, madam." His voice hardened. " 'Tis too late."

"If this is only a matter of knightly honor for you, my lord, rest assured, I will not—"

"Only a matter of honor?" His amber eyes were suddenly fierce. "My honor is everything to me, madam. Everything. Do you comprehend that? All that I am flows from it."

"Sir, I did not mean to imply that I thought your honor unimportant. On the contrary, I have always been most impressed—" Alice broke off as she caught sight of an object out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to peer into the shadowed depths of the far end of the cavern.

Hugh frowned. "What is it?"

"By the Saints," Alice breathed. "Does that look like a sandal?"

Hugh glanced toward the opening. His eyes narrowed. "Aye, it does." He released Alice and strode toward the dark passage. "If that damned monk is still hanging about these parts, I vow, I shall personally throw him off Scarcliffe lands."

"But why would he wish to stay here if he could no longer preach?" Alice asked as she followed Hugh.

"An excellent question." Hugh came to a halt near the yawning tunnel. He paused and then crouched down as though to get a better look at the sandal.

"What is it?" Alice hurried toward him and looked over his broad shoulder. A deep unease filled her. The air emanating from the passageway suddenly seemed very cold. "Eyes of the Saints."

The sandal was still attached to Calvert's foot. The monk lay ominously still on the stone floor of the cave. His brown robes were tumbled about his scrawny frame as though they were so much dirty linen.

In the deep shadows it was possible to see that Calvert's body was oddly contorted. He looked as though he had been in great pain for a time but it was very clear that he was far beyond feeling anything at all now.

"He's dead," Hugh said quietly.

"Aye. Poor man." Alice crossed herself. "I could not like him but I am sorry that he died here alone. What do you think happened to him?"

"I don't know. Mayhap he fell and hit his head against a sharp stone." Hugh clamped a hand around the monk's ankle.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to get a closer look at him. There is something strange about this." Hugh dragged the monk's body out of the passage.

Alice backed hurriedly out of the way. Then she saw the odd blue color around Calvert's mouth. A shiver of dread gripped her.

She recalled something her mother had written about potions made from the juice of a rare herb. She glanced at Calvert's fingernails. His hands had stiffened into clawlike shapes but she could make out the blue tinge beneath his nails.

"My lord?"

"Aye?" Hugh asked absently. He was concentrating on the task of stretching the monk's body out in the light of the cavern entrance. When he had finished, he stood and gazed down at Calvert with a speculative expression.

"I do not believe that the monk died from a fall," Alice whispered.

Hugh gave her a sharp, assessing look. "What are you saying?"

"I believe that this is the work of poison."

Hugh studied her for a long moment. "You are certain?"

Alice nodded bleakly. "My mother's book contains several pages of notes on the subject."

"In that case," Hugh said very evenly, "you will say nothing concerning the manner of his death. Do you comprehend me, Alice?"

"Aye." She was bemused by the intensity of his voice. "But I do not understand. Why is it so important that I keep silent?"

"Because the entire village witnessed your anger toward him in church." Hugh went down on one knee beside the monk's body. "And because everyone knows that you are expert with herbal potions."