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as if
they were equals. The brandy was strong and she cautioned herself
to sip it slowly so she wouldn’t choke and cough.
    Greystoke gave her an approving look, and she
suddenly felt empowered, though perhaps it was the liquor that was
making her feel brave.
    “Is there anything else you’d like,
Firebrand?”
    He speaks like a bloody god, bestowing his
gifts from Olympus! Now’s your chance, Douglas. You don’t ask, you
don’t get. I’d like to return home. I’d like the release of my
brothers. Instead, she threw him a challenging smile. “Some
food, and hot water to bathe.”
    Greystoke’s eyes widened slightly. He took
the empty glass from her fingers and set it aside. Then he moved
behind her, and cupped her shoulders in his strong hands. “Yes,
you’re still cold, and both those things would thaw you. Curl up
before the fire, while I see what I can find in the kitchen.”
    When he withdrew, she took a deep breath, and
congratulated herself. Though he was an English nobleman, he had
rescued her from prison, and was now waiting upon her. She knew
that she was vain, but she had more than a suspicion that he was
attracted to her. Her innate honesty compelled her to admit that
she also was attracted to Lance Greystoke.
    He brought her a steaming bowl of lamb and
barley broth. When she took it from him, it warmed her hands, and
she breathed in its tantalizing aroma. Between spoonfuls she said,
“I thought only Scots enjoyed this kind of soup, but now I see it
must be a Border favorite. We may have more in common than we
realize.”
    “Such as a mutual desire for horses?” he
suggested lightly.
    Douglas reminded herself that the English
Border Warden was dangerous. She must avoid the topic of horses,
lest she say something that would further incriminate her
brothers.
    “I was thinking of home-brewed ale, salmon
fishing, and books.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I envy you your
library, Greystoke.”
    His dark eyes focused on her mouth. “You are
an anomaly, a beautiful female with a penchant for reading.”
    She set her spoon down in the empty bowl.
“And you, Sir Lancelot, are an enigma.”
    “I know.”
    He gestured toward the staircase. “I had a
servant heat you some water, if you would care to follow me.”
    She rose to her feet slowly. Why is he
giving me all I ask? When will he start taking? Her inner voice
warned: He is a man. There will be a price to pay. Douglas
tried to silence the voice. When I call the tune, I’m perfectly
willing to pay the piper. It could be most rewarding. “Lead on,
my lord.”
    Greystoke led her directly to his own
bedchamber, where a copper bath stood before the fire. Her glance
swept about the room. The furniture was polished black oak, the
hangings gold velvet, and the huge bed dominated the chamber.
    A manservant appeared carrying two buckets of
steaming water. He added it to the water already in the copper
tub.
    Douglas smiled. “Thank you so much.”
    The man acknowledged her thanks with a nod,
and withdrew.
    She sat down in a chair before the fire and
proceeded to remove her boots. Then she took off her knitted hose
and wriggled her bare toes in the deep-piled carpet. She paused,
wondering if he would leave. When Greystoke remained, she
deliberately reached up and unpinned her braids, then with deft
fingers she loosened the plaited strands. She shook her head and
the fiery red tresses tumbled about her shoulders. Her eyes met his
in a challenge. When he made no move to leave, she was determined
that he would not intimidate her, nor inhibit her, for that matter.
She turned her back on him and began to unfasten the buttons at her
neck. “I’ll need a towel,” she threw over her shoulder, “and
something clean to put on.”
    Silence behind her made her glance back.
Greystoke had disappeared. With all speed she stripped off her
leather breeches and the rest of her clothes and climbed into the
tub.
    The water covered only her legs and hips, but
she scooped up