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loosely than Norman fashions, but she found the pleated tunic in deep blue and the richly embroidered white surcoat that went over it to be quite comfortable. It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask how he came to possess such garments when there was no lady in his house. An obligingly garrulous serving woman saved her the trouble.
    "When his lordship's sister wed that Irishman last year, he lavished so many clothes on her she saw no reason to take these. They've been packed away in the storage rooms ever since."
    "Twasn't fit for anyone here to wear them," the servant explained matter-of-factly. "But for a lady such as yourself, they're perfect"
    The woman's ready acceptance of Roanna was not matched by all Colin's people. From the men she had no trouble, since they would not venture more than a surreptitious glance when they thought she wasn't looking. But the women were a different matter.
    Some treated her with dignified courtesy, a few were even friendly. Most, however, were clearly reserving judgment From one of two of the younger, more comely girls there had even been angry glares whose origins Roanna understood quite well.
    Colin was rarely out of her sight He had shared breakfast with her, showed her around his home, answered her questions patiently, and only left her alone when she at test settled down with the ledgers. Even then his absence was brief. After a few hours, he was drawn irresistibly back to her side.
    A slight frown furled her forehead as she looked up from the lists she was studying.
    "I think you are paying too much for salt."
    "Why is that?" Colin inquired mildly, more absorbed by her beauty than any household concerns.
    "Look here." She pointed with the tip of her pen. "A year ago the price was half what it is now."
    "A year ago there was no war in England. Since the invasion, merchants have felt justified in increasing all their prices on the grounds that there is added risk to them when they travel about seeing customers."
    "That's what the spice merchant who came to our keep claimed," Roanna acknowledged. "But my sister-in-law would have none of it She chafered him down to the standard prices, knowing full well few could afford to buy at all. While she was at it, she got enough to share with others who did not have her bargaining power."
    She laughed softly, remembering the scene. "The merchant went away muttering that she had beggared him. But he came back a few months later with more goods to sell, so he couldn't have been too badly hurt"
    Colin grinned at the story. But his silvery eyes were serious as he asked, "Can you haggle as well?"
    Puzzled, Roanna nodded. "Most ladies are well trained to get the best for our coin. It is one of the duties expected of us."
    A moment passed before he appeared to reach a decision. "There is a merchant due here today. If I show you the surplus goods we have to trade, would you deal with him?"
    A slow flush suffused Roanna's high-boned cheeks. What he was asking was a task for his wife.
    "Is there no one else? . . ."
    Colin shrugged. "I did it myself last time, with the results you see." A teasing smile softened his hard mouth. "As in Normandy, men here are not trained in such things. I have no difficulty identifying the best iron for weapons or knowing which leather is suited to saddles. But when it comes to—"
    "To more practical matters," Roanna interrupted caustically. She was sick to death of men's incessant preoccupation with fighting. "When it comes to keeping yourself and others fed and clothed, you end up being robbed."
    If she had expected Colin to take offense, she was disappointed. He merely shrugged philosophically and pressed home his point "So you will see the merchant for me?"
    Unable to think of a graceful way out, Roanna accepted reluctantly. No matter how well she did, she knew some in the stronghold would find fault. But she was determined that Colin at least would not be disappointed. Sparing a moment's pity for the unsuspecting