“I wish. We were invited by the king and queen.”

He sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. “Politics,” he said dismissively.

“Come on, you,” she said. “We have to get moving.”

He dragged her in for another lingering kiss. “We didn’t sleep. Maybe we should stay in bed a little longer.”

“And I thought I was the bad influence.”

He grinned devilishly and pinched her rear as she slid out of bed. She swatted at him and pulled her shift back over her head. She found a thick robe in a wardrobe and drew it close around her shoulders.

“I should probably change before someone notices.”

A sharp knock at the door had her heart racing. She waved at Fordham as she hastened to hide behind the curtains.

“Yes?” Fordham called.

A servant, Mereda, peeked her head in. “Sir, Lord Argon sent me up here. Lord March has arrived from Rosemont for Geivhrea breakfast with the House of Cruse.”

Kerrigan bit her lip so hard that she reopened the bite from last night.

“We will break fast as soon as you have arrived. I must locate Lady Argon,” she said, purposely looking around the room, as if Kerrigan would jump out at any moment, “and prepare her. None of us would want Lord March to suspect she was not in her bed last night.”

“Thank you very much,” Fordham said with a nod. “I will be down promptly.”

The door shut behind Mereda, and Kerrigan breathed out a sigh of relief. “Gods, March is here? What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Fordham said, shucking off his sheets and pulling on breeches. “But I intend to find out while you’re getting dressed.”

She dashed to him and pressed one more firm kiss upon his lips. “I’ll only be a moment.”

Kerrigan peeked her head into the hallway, and when she found no one, she darted into her rooms, where Mereda was waiting. She cocked an eyebrow. “My lady?”

“Yes, yes,” Kerrigan said, waving her hand. “Let’s skip the lecture.”

She grinned. “He is quite handsome.”

Kerrigan laughed. “Quite.”

A half hour later, she descended the grand staircase in a dress fit for a queen attending an audience. Mereda had insisted that she’d change her again for traveling but that she had to make an appearance if her betrothed was in attendance. She’d been right. The minute March saw her, something hungry shone in his eyes. He was pleased with her appearance, especially the giant ring she’d retrieved and put back on her finger.

“What a surprise,” she said, hoping for enthusiasm.

“My lady,” March said. He bowed extravagantly and kissed her hand as soon as she finished her descent. “Happy Geivhrea.”

“To you as well. How did you manage the roads in these conditions?”