She quickened her pace. More silly smiles greeted her as she passed. A knight’s wife, who had considered herself the leading lady of the manor, made it a point to move out of her way and make a deep curtsy of deference.

Nesta bore down on Paul. “Grin or bow and I will scratch your eyes out. Where is Marcus?”

Paul backed up a step. His thumb jerked toward the stable.

She pushed past him and entered the stable full of shadows and horse smells.

Marcus was just taking the reins of his horse from a groom. He noticed her intrusion. “Good morrow, Nesta.”

“A devil’s fart on this morrow. Marcus, I am going to kill you.”

The groom’s shocked eyes peeked over the horse’s rump. Marcus turned to him with a man-to-man grin. “Women. They are so changeable. Happy one moment, distraught the next.”

“I am not distraught, you scheming bastard. I am so angry that I would cut you down if I were a man.”

He walked his horse to her. She straightened to her full height and glared at him.

“You must not speak to me like this, Nesta,” he said quietly. “A lord cannot permit such disrespect.”

“You have not begun to hear the depths of the disrespect waiting for your ears.”

“Then let us go where it is for my ears alone.” He grabbed her and threw her onto the horse and quickly swung up behind her. “I am taking my bride for a ride,” he called back to the groom. “Tell the others our departure will be delayed.”

“I am not his bride,” Nesta insisted furiously, glaring back at the groom so he would know she meant it.

“A maiden’s misgivings. You know how that goes,” Marcus said to the thoroughly stunned groom.

“I am not a maiden, and the whole world knows it,” Nesta hissed.

Marcus moved the horse to a trot and they shot out the stable door. As they passed Paul, Nesta saw him shake his head and make the sign of the cross.

She refused to touch him. Despite their speed, she would not hold on to him. She bounced along, grasping the horse’s mane and the front of the saddle. Marcus tried once to steady her with his arm, but she smacked it off and gave him a glare that warned not to try it again.

He finally reined in at the foot of a hill. She slid down as soon as the horse stilled. She did not want him helping and touching her.

She strode away from him, and fought to contain her trembling rage. She found just enough composure to speak coherently, and turned to face him.

“I will speak to everyone. I will tell them that you lied.”

“Nesta—”