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started right away. Come on."
    "Uh ... I can't... my clothes . . ."
    A dull flush suffused his lean cheeks. "I forgot I'll have the serving women bring you something." He hesitated before explaining, "They won't be like your clothes. Our styles are different."
    "I know."
    It took a moment for him to understand. In the pleasure of seeing her again and realizing that he had an excuse to spend time with her, he had forgotten her family. Of course her Anglo-Saxon sister-in-law would have told her about local fashions, though none of the ladies in a Norman household would wear them. Frowning at the reminder of all that lay between them, he left the chamber quickly.

Chapter 3

    " W hat manner of man is Colin Algerson?" Guyon demanded, the very softness of his voice betraying his immense rage.
    The priest hesitated. He was quite young, pale and quiet of nature, and not eager for confrontation with anyone, let alone a Norman warlord.
    Staring at the hem of his brown serge robe, he murmured, "I have always found him honorable, sir. He keeps his word and fulfills all his duties nobly."
    Guyon badly wanted to believe the priest If what he said was true, Roanna was safe, at least for the moment But how could he be sure? . . .
    "If he meant to harm her," the woman standing a little to one side ventured, "surely he would not have sent a message offering to parlay."
    The priest nodded, pleasantly surprised to discover that the Norman's wife was apparently as intelligent as she was beautiful.
    Brenna's gray-green eyes were dark with worry. She had dressed hurriedly, not bothering to veil the silken mass of her midnight black hair. Her delicate features showed the strain of the last few days, but her slender body emanated feminine strength. Gently she touched a hand to her husband's sun-bronzed arm in reassurance.
    The Norman towered over her. When he turned, his broad shoulders and massive torso blocked her briefly from the priest's sight. Instinctively, he shifted enough to see the tender look that lit the warlord's amber eyes and softened the hard planes of his face.
    It was rumored that Guyon D'Arcy dearly, loved his wife and that their devotion to each other had survived many trials in the turmoil of the Conquest Seeing them together, the priest could well believe it
    Sensing his parents' worry, the little boy in Brenna's arms whimpered. He was only eight months old, but already strong and vigorous. Chubby legs kicked fretfully as he demanded attention.
    With accustomed ease, Guyon took his son and soothed him ably. The Norman retainers gathered in the hall were used to the sight of their lord caring for his son in ways usually left to women. But the priest was not. His eyes widened as he beheld a side of the fierce warrior he would never have suspected.
    When the child quieted, his father said softly, "If I followed my instincts, I would march on the Algerson stronghold at once."
    Several of the knights, always ready for battle, nodded eagerly. But Brenna reminded them all of where such behavior would lead.
    "The moment you were sighted, Roanna's life would be forfeit. To get her back safety, we must go slowly and cautiously."
    The priest allowed himself a small sigh of relief when he realized the Norman was predisposed to accept his wife's counsel. So softly that only Guyon could hear her, Brenna murmured, "She will not be harmed, my love. I know it."
    The words were far more confident man she truly felt, but her husband accepted them gratefully. Still holding Alain, he placed an arm around his wife's shoulders and drew her close. Silently, they offered comfort to each other.
    Had the little family been able to see their missing member, they would have been far less concerned.
    After a good night's sleep and an ample breakfast to which her restored appetite did full justice, Roanna sat in the corner of the great hall surrounded by sheafs of vellum, a pot of ink, and several new pens.
    The clothes Colin had provided fit her far more