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and clucked her tongue. She came over to tie green ribbons above Lydia’s knees. Not trusting her to do it right, Elise slipped soft leather shoes on Lydia’s feet and cross-gartered them about her ankles. Satisfied that she didn’t need further help, Elise hurried over to lift the door latch.
    “I will have Cook prepare a tray with broth and mayhap some bread and cheese.” She tugged at the heavy door.
    “Hold on there. What about my underwear? You don’t expect me to go naked under here, do you?”
    “You are not naked.” Elise giggled and let go of the door to come back and lift the hem of Lydia’s tunic. She pointed beneath
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    it. “Look. Did you forget having your smock? Why do you dress?
    We may not go below. That Scotsman ordered that you not leave the room until he says you may.” Another thought struck her, and she moved her hands to guard her bottom. “Oh, nay, you are not going to get us a beating, are you?”
    Lydia snorted and headed for the door.
    The young woman scurried to stand against it, her arms and legs spread wide to make a barrier. “You cannot,” she whispered. Her face blanched. “We must be careful. Father Jacob will read the banns this coming Sunday.”
    “Bans on what? No. Don’t tell me. I’ll bet he means to banish women from the dining hall.” Huffing in disgust, Lydia tugged Elise away from the door.
    Elise’s frightened gaze searched the room as if looking for support there. She grabbed hold of Lydia’s clothing and dug in her heels.
    It didn’t work.
    Lydia found the landing was as strange as the bedchamber had been. It was like many castle interiors she had seen, though she had never visited this one in her travels. Everything was in perfect condition. They had placed rushlights at close intervals so a person could see well enough not to stumble. Their smoke gave off an unfamiliar smell. A bubble of excitement welled up.
    How would her imagination fill in the details? She hoped she didn’t awake before she could explore a little. Elise still clung to her clothing like a stubborn limpet.
    Determined to go below, Lydia towed her behind her as she went down the stairs.
    Men and women filled the large hall, and everyone was speaking at once. Fascinated with the bright clothing and the room’s arrangement, she stared around her.
    A fireplace, tall enough to walk into, filled much of the wall to the right. Surely a Norman influence? Picturesque tapestries
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    covered the rest of the stone walls, along with weapons of all kinds. Bright banners hung from the rafters, their vivid colors muted by a light haze of smoke. Trestle tables with benches stood in orderly rows about the room.
    Scant seconds later, a large body blocked her sight. Two big booted feet went toe to toe with hers. Behind her, Elise squeaked like a mouse. She let loose of Lydia’s clothing, then bolted away.
    “Brianna, turn and get ye back above. Ye will stay abed until ye return to yer senses.”
    His curt commands left no doubt who was speaking. Staring at his shirt, she gave herself a mental kick, for her knees had started to shake. She tried to glare up at him, but he stood so close her gaze could not stray above his chest. She wasn’t about to back up. He’d think he had intimidated her.
    “Huh. I have my senses. And do stop calling me Brianna. My name is Lydia.” The heat coming from his body seeped through her own clothing. With each breath, she inhaled his scent of sandalwood and spices. Intoxicating. What a shame he didn’t have a pleasing personality to enhance his sexuality.
    “Ye are mindsick, woman. Anyone who canna remember their name is in need of rest. Go to yer bed, else I will take ye myself.”
    “My mind is not sick.” As if instructing a child, she spoke slowly, distinctly. “My memory is fine.” Macho man was ruining her interesting dream. In the early days of her marriage, Gordon had thought to control her every movement. She had soon