Everything and more. He was the most fortunate of men, Hugh told himself. He had hoped for a wife who possessed the qualities of courage, honor, and intelligence that were so important to him. In addition he had gotten one who loved him with a sweet, hot passion that took away his breath.

"You look pleased with yourself, my lord," Alice murmured in a drowsy voice. "What are you thinking?"

He looked down at her. "That, contrary to your early fears, I was in no danger of being cheated when I paid your bride price. You were definitely worth two full chests of spices."

Alice gave a muffled giggle. "Sir, you are a rogue and an unchivalrous scoundrel."

She scrambled to her knees, grabbed a pillow, and began to pummel him unmercifully.

Hugh gave a shout of laughter as he made a halfhearted attempt to defend himself. "I surrender."

"I want more than surrender." Alice whacked him again with the fluffy weapon. "I want an apology."

He grabbed the pillow from her hands and tossed it aside. "How about a compliment instead?"

She pursed her lips, considering the matter closely. "I will have to hear it before I can determine if it will satisfy me as much as an apology."

"Your breasts are as sweet and round as fresh summer peaches." Hugh cupped one gently.

"That is a very nice compliment," Alice conceded.

"There are more where that one came from," he promised.

"Hmm."

He tugged her down on top of him. She tumbled across his chest, warm and soft and so enticingly female. He stroked the edge of her fine-boned cheek. Memories of the day he had saved her from the robbers in Ipstoke came to mind. He recalled the way she had run to him. As if she had known, even then, that she belonged in his arms.

"Many more," he whispered.

Alice folded her arms on his chest. "Well, my lord, compliments are certainly very pleasant and I shall look forward to hearing more of them, but I think that in this case they will not do."

"You still want the apology?"

"Nay." She chuckled. "What I want is a boon."

"A boon?"

"Aye."

"What sort of boon?" he asked, suddenly cautious. He threaded his fingers through her tousled hair. She looked so lovely lying here in his bed. He shuddered to think how if it had not been for an old legend and the whim of fate, he might never have found her.

Then again, Hugh thought, mayhap he had been destined to find her from the day of his birth.

Alice smiled beatifically. "I don't know yet. I wish to hold this boon in reserve, so to speak, until such time as I decide to collect it."

"I shall no doubt regret this, but I am in no mood to bargain with you again tonight. You may have my promise of a future boon, madam."

She batted her lashes outrageously. "You are too kind, my lord."

"I know. 'Tis no doubt one of my greatest failings."

The following morning Dunstan spat into the dirt with his usual gusto and eyed the sagging door of the storeroom. "A fine day, m'lord."

"Aye." Hugh surveyed the broken door with a sense of deep satisfaction. "No rain in sight. That means we'll be able to finish the work here in the bailey without delay."

He was pleased with the progress that had been made in such a short time on the manor of Scarcliffe. The last of the villagers' cottages had been repaired. The new refuse ditch was finished and the bridge across the stream stood firm once more. The first items on his list of priorities were completed.

It was time to see to less critical matters here in the keep itself. Matters such as the drooping storeroom door. The clang and clash of tools rang out across the yard.

"No shortage of men," Dunstan observed.

Hugh had been surprised at first by the number of villagers who had arrived early that morning to assist with the repairs. He had not ordered the men to appear. He had simply sent word that there was work for those who could spare the time from their farms.

Virtually every able-bodied male in Scarcliffe had presented himself, tools in hand, within the hour. They had immediately set to work with an astoundingly cheerful mien.

"We can thank my wife for the number of laborers we have here today," Hugh said dryly. "She seems to have made a favorable impression on the villagers while I was in London."

"Lady Alice is swiftly becoming as much of a legend as yourself, m'lord. It did not go unnoticed that she saved Young John, the miller's son, when the healer had given up the effort."

"I heard about that," Hugh said quietly.

"Nor has anyone forgotten that scene in the church when she ordered Calvert of Oxwick out of the pulpit."

"Memorable, indeed."

"And she was most industrious in overseeing the repairs you ordered done while you were gone."

Hugh smiled wryly. "Alice is very good at managing things."

"Aye. But I think it safe to say that the incident that warranted that she would become a true legend was the rescue of Rivenhall."

Hugh grunted, his indulgent mood dissolving in an instant. "You mean the villagers were awed by her bravery?"

"Aye, m'lord. Awed is certainly the word for it."

"I'll grant that my wife does not lack courage but she did not rescue Rivenhall alone. She had you and most of my men with her. Eduard of Lockton knew he was no match for such a force, nor would he have challenged me by taking up arms against my betrothed."

"It was not the lady's bold ride into Rivenhall that gained the admiration of one and all." Dunstan grinned. "It was the fact that she survived your temper afterward that has us awestruck."

"By the bones of the devil," Hugh grumbled.

Dunstan shot him a knowing look. "Some say that she wields a mystical power over you."

"Is that so?" Hot memories of the night just past burned in Hugh's mind. He smiled. "Mayhap those that whisper of her magical talents have the right of it."

Dunstan quirked a brow. "Marriage appears to have had an interesting effect on your temper, m'lord."

Hugh was saved from having to reply by a shout from one of the watchtowers.

"Three visitors approach, m'lord," one of the men called down from his perch.

"Visitors?" Hugh frowned. "Who would come to visit Scarcliffe?"

"You are not entirely without friends," Dunstan drawled.

"None would have come without sending a message first." Hugh looked up at the guard in the watchtower. "Armed men?"

"Nay, m'lord." The guard studied the road from Scarcliffe. "One man wearing only a sword. He is accompanied by a woman and a child."

"Damnation." A sense of deep foreboding swept over Hugh. He swung around to face the open gate. "Surely he would not be so stupid as to pay a neighborly visit."

"Who?" Dunstan asked.

The question was answered a moment later as Vincent of Rivenhall rode through into the bailey. Lady Emma and young Reginald were at his side.

Hugh groaned in disgust. "Can a man not even be allowed to enjoy the morning after his wedding night in peace?"

"It would seem that things have changed in the history of Scarcliffe," Dunstan murmured.

Work came to a halt as everyone in the vicinity turned to stare at the newcomers. Grooms rushed up to take the heads of the visitors' horses.

Hugh watched morosely as Vincent dismounted and turned to assist Emma from her mare. Young Reginald hopped down from his saddle and grinned at Hugh

Vincent, his face set in lines of grim determination, took his wife's arm and walked forward as though he went to the gallows.

"Sir Hugh." He came to a halt in front of his reluctant host and nodded stiffly.

"I see you finally left off your jousting long enough to pay your estates a visit," Hugh said laconically. "What a pity you did not do so earlier. You would have saved my wife a deal of trouble."