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combination of dark-brown hair and fathomless dark-hued green eyes was striking indeed. As his betrothed, she was the envy of all these women, and that suited her admirably, for Corliss loved being envied. She thrived on jealousy, too, and her sisters were certainly jealous of her now. That was worth whatever she had to put up with from Royce in bed, even his prolonged lovemaking.
    The first time had been quick. But the other times, including now, seemed to go on forever, full of kissing and touching. The kissing she didn’t mind so much, but the touching…! He touched her everywhere, and she had to lie there in her humiliation and bear it all. She sometimes wondered if he prolonged it intentionally, if he had guessed that she didn’t like it. But how could he know? She never protested or offered the least resistance. She lay there perfectly still and let him do what he wanted. What more could she do to let him know that she was willing?
    He looked down at her, and there was bemusement in his eyes. She heard him sigh and stiffened, knowing this was the sign that he was ready at long last to mount her. A knock came at her door just as he fit himself between her legs.
    “Milord! Milord, you must come now! Your man is below and says ’tis urgent he see you!”
    Royce left the bed and reached for his clothes. That he was glad of the interruption did not show in his expression. Making love to Corliss was becoming a tiresome duty, fraught with frustration, that he no longer anticipated with any pleasure. It was confusing, too, forhe did not seek her out. She brought him to her chamber each time, leading him to believe it was what she wanted. But once they were abed, Corliss was as passionless as dead meat, and he had done everything he could think of to make her enjoy their encounters.
    That she did not wouldn’t have mattered to most men, but Royce derived a good deal of his own pleasure from the pleasure that he gave. And if truth be known, he had more fun tumbling a lowly serf than he did this woman who would be his wife, no matter how beautiful she was.
    After he strapped on his belt over the leather vest he wore, his only chest covering in the warm weather, he spared Corliss a glance. She had modestly covered herself the moment he left the bed. She begrudged him even the sight of her splendid nakedness. His anger rose for a moment because of that, but he tamped it down. He had to make allowances for Corliss’s tender sensibilities. After all, she was a lady of noble birth, and like all such ladies of his acquaintance, she needed to be treated with care, or tearful scenes were likely to be the consequence.
    “Milord, how can you leave me now?” Corliss asked plaintively.
    Very easily, little one , he thought, but those were not the words he spoke aloud. “You heard your woman summon me. I am needed below.”
    “But, Royce, it seems so…as if you do not care…as if you do not want me.”
    Great tears were spilling from her eyes now, and Royce sighed in disgust. Why did they all have to do that? They cried so easily, for so little reason, clinging, demanding reassurances. His mother had been like that, his aunt, even his cousin Darrelle who lived with him now—how quickly they could burst into tears and make a man wish he were elsewhere. He would be damned ifhe would have this from his wife, too. Better to break her of the habit now.
    “Cease, Corliss. I cannot abide tears.”
    “You—you do not want me!” she sobbed.
    “Did I say so?” he snapped.
    “Then stay. Please, Royce!”
    He almost hated her at that moment. “You would have me ignore my duty to appease you, lady? Never will I do that. Nor will I coddle you, so do not expect it.”
    He walked out of the room before she could detain him longer, but the sound of her loud crying followed him down the hall, grating on his nerves. The scene had put him in a foul mood, and seeing the serf Seldon waiting for him below did not help it. A serf would not have