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Such a move could be more dangerous than you know.”
    But before Lady Margaret could agree to help her or not, Lord Braden interrupted. “I visited a cathedral in London once that had the most amazing architectural feature.” He turned to face them and continued with an ill-timed explanation of his travels. “The church had been built in such a way that all sounds moved up the walls, across the ceiling and down the wall on the other side. ’Twas called a whispering dome.”
    His focus followed the curve of the roof overhead, and the look of triumph told her the meaning of his words—he’d heard her plea to Lady Margaret for help. Could it be so? He opened the door and called out to his men who surrounded the chapel to double the guard and be prepared for her attempt to escape. He had heard her words.
    When he held out his hand for Lady Margaret, Joanna felt some small measure of desperation creeping into her. What could she do now? Lady Margaret nodded to him and left Joanna’s side.
    “Rest now, Joanna. I will return as soon as I’ve spoken with my lord husband.”
    Braden followed Lady Margaret and spoke as he pulled the door closed behind them. “As will I.”
    His voice was filled with both menace and some kind of promise and made her quiver from head to toe. Deserted once again, Joanna sought the meager comfort that her makeshift pallet offered and tried to pray for a safe outcome.
     
    He was the kind of man who would have drawn women to his side with but an inviting glance. Even at her age, two score and one, his fine figure, dark hair and chiseled features stirred an admiration that might have caused problems were she not completely in love with her husband…and nearly old enough to be Lord Braden’s mother. Margaret walked at his side trying to sort out her assessment before they reached Orrick.
    A few things had become apparent rather quickly in thisperplexing situation. Lord Braden was a man accustomed to getting his own way and he used his sordid reputation to scare and bully people around to do his bidding. His reputation was well-known by most of England and feared enough to terrify a young woman into running away from the only security and family she’d known. She was not completely convinced that he deserved the reputation he carried.
    Or mayhap he did?
    A few times she had caught him watching Joanna when he did not know he was being observed. Anger bordering on rage was clear in his features and his tense stance, but there was something else, a desperate longing for Joanna or what she offered, deep in his expression. He hid it quickly as though he feared someone else seeing it. As though it undermined him in some way. As though the desire for her was dangerous to him.
    They walked in silence toward the keep. Then, as if he knew she was judging him and his actions, he stopped and turned to face her. One look at his face, his very handsome face, told her that he did not desire her involvement.
    “I would advise you to stay out of what is between Lady Joanna and me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her. “Pardon my candor, Lady Margaret, but I do not appreciate your interference.”
    She fought the urge to smile as she felt it tug at the corners of her mouth. She had faced down men more powerful than him in her life and relished the challenge his insult offered. Margaret knew ’twas probably not a good idea to incite him to more anger, but the memory of the terror that controlled Joanna gave her any permission she sought.
    “And I do not appreciate stubborn, thick-skulled men who seek to terrorize young women under my protection.”
    She crossed her arms in the same manner he had and raised her chin. ’Twasn’t a fair argument for she knew all but six people in the keep would leap to her defense if need be. That complete support and sense of safety gave her any courage she needed to speak to him boldly.
    “Your behavior and insults are unseemly, lady. Surely your