Chaos claimed the hall as the servants arrived with food and ale for the men. Marcus stood in its midst, not appearing to notice the activity. His attention shot around, and came to rest on her sitting near the far wall. The world parted, creating a lane between the two of them in which nothing existed but their connected gazes. Danger flowed down that alley to her.

Marcus caught a passing servant and spoke to the man, who hurried off into the crowd. Soon, rows of servants began stringing through the crowd, carrying buckets of water and following their lord to his chambers.

The story of the day’s events spread. Nesta heard the tale from the English wife of one of the knights. The words entering her ears created a different image than the lady intended to impart, and Nesta narrowed her eye on the stairs where she had last seen the lord of the manor.

It was a good thing Marcus had retired and was out of her sight and reach. In delaying justice for Arundal’s men, he had only proven that he was just one more English lord preserving another one’s right to treat the Welsh as a conquered people.

Seething resentment grew as she thought of those poor villagers. She remembered the freezing worry she had experienced while she waited for Marcus to appear. Not once during those horrible moments had she thought about her father’s men, and who among them might have been wounded and killed. She hated the way her heart kept betraying her. It made her furious with herself, and with Marcus.

A servant approached her, carrying a tray of food and drink.

“My lord asked that you bring this to the solar.”

“I am sure you are mistaken. You can bring it.”

“His command was that you do it, my lady.”

No doubt this food was for Addis. Marcus had surely told him about the betrothal, and now wanted his bride to attend on their guest in the appropriate fashion. She had no intention of maintaining the deception for this visiting baron.

She rose and took the tray. It was time to clarify the situation.

The solar door stood ajar. Putting her back to it, she pushed it open and entered with her burden.

Only the hearth provided light, but it was enough to beautifully display the back of a man sitting in the tub. The skin appeared golden in the fire’s glow, and a thousand dots of water shimmered on it. She took in the broad shoulders and lean muscles. Wet hair hung to his neck, but it was too light to belong to their guest.

Aside from him the chamber was empty. No servants lurked in the shadows, waiting to assist.

She carried the tray to the large table near the window. Setting it down in his view, she pivoted and aimed back to the door with her eyes lowered.

“Stay.”