Richard was in his chamber following the prayers at sext when Jack’s booming greeting told him Kate and her odd-looking servant girl had arrived. He straightened his padded, black fustian jacket, fashionably short to show off a man’s shapely buttocks and muscular legs, and checked that all his points were tied—how horrifying if one of his stockings were to slip down his leg. He ran a comb through his thick, chin-length hair and then, silently standing on the landing, observed the scene below.

Despite her sodden appearance from the drizzly day, Kate’s beauty glowed. At his shadowy post, Richard took full advantage of his view of her. She was as lovely as he remembered. From the tendrils of chestnut hair curling around her cheek from under her simple caul, the adorable freckles on her nose to her merry eyes accepting the teasing Jack was giving her, he was in her thrall. He allowed his gaze to take in her ripe young body, and to his horror felt himself go hard. Mortified, he turned away. But merely imagining the horror had his erection been seen magically reversed it, and, relieved, he was able to casually stroll downstairs.

“Who is your guest, Jack? May I be introduced?” He could have sworn he had said something, but the thin, inaudible voice surely wasn’t his? What a stupid question, he told himself upon seeing the astonishment on Jack’s face. What is happening to me, he wondered? His astute host, however, had immediately grasped an infatuated youth’s distress and pretended to do the introductions. It helped that Kate seemed surprised by his presence and appeared to falter in her curtsey. How charming, Jack thought, wishing Margaret could see how perfectly her plan was working instead of supervising the servants in the pantry.

Richard lifted Kate’s hand to his lips. “I am right glad to see you again, Dame….”

“Mistress Haute, Kate Haute, my lord,” came the quiet response. Kate was acutely aware of Richard’s warm fingers wrapped around hers.

“My friend Rob will be envious we are reacquainted, mistress. We dubbed you ‘the Lady of the Forest,’ that day,” Richard said, releasing her hand, and then cursed himself for mentioning Rob’s name. He need not have worried; Kate was too busy trying to calm herself. She had thought of the young duke many times in the loneliness of her unhappy marriage, and he was the last person she had expected to see today. He excited but unnerved her at the same time. However, thanks to her resilience and quick tongue, she rallied: “The Lady of the Forest is happy to see you again, too, my lord.” And her voice, she was pleased to note, sounded almost normal. “What brings you into Suffolk at this dreary time of year?”

Seeing the two young people now comfortable with each other, and feeling superfluous, Jack Howard sneaked off to fetch Margaret just as the dinner bell rang.