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fingertips over the flowers etched into the soft copper as she’d done so often in the past. How many times over the years had she sat staring out the window, the copper and jade band clutched in her hands while she stroked the beautiful design and turned her thoughts upon the man who’d given it to her?
    A tear trickled down her cheek as she smoothed her fingers over the misshapen circle, then pressed the cool metal to her lips.
    â€™Twas as battered as her heart, she thought, choking back a mirthless laugh. And her heart was like to become more bruised yet, the longer Rannulf remained within her sight.
    Gillian dabbed at her wet cheek with the trailing end of her sleeve and straightened her shoulders.
    â€™Twas no wonder Rannulf had stared at her—she could only imagine what he’d thought, to see that circlet upon her head.
    But how could Ella have suspected Rannulf FitzClifford’s presence in Talbot’s party?
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    Rannulf followed Talbot and Ella to the bathing chamber near the laundry, his mind brimming with confusion. He went through the motions of bathing, his brain registering Talbot’s continuing commentary about Gillian’s beauty even as he silently berated himself for a fool.
    If he kept on as he’d started, ’twould be no time at all before Talbot discovered far more about Rannulf FitzClifford than Rannulf had ever planned to reveal. By the rood, once he’d noticed the copper circlet Gillian wore—his gift to her the day she’d given herself to him body and soul—it had been all he could manage to keep from sweeping her into his arms, Talbot be damned!
    He drew in a deep breath and ducked his head beneath the steaming water, drowning out Talbot’s voice and allowing himself a few moments to clear his thoughts. He could not continue to remind himself of the past. ’Twas long gone, taking the dreams of his youth—and any hope of a future with Gillian—with it.
    He could scarce afford to jeopardize all that he had accomplished for Pembroke, simply for the gift of Gillian’s presence in his life.
    Not that she’d have aught to do with him at any rate, to judge by her attitude toward him and Talbot both. The Gillian he’d come to know would have welcomed guests to I’Eau Clair with warmth and a genuine smile.
    The cold, imperious woman who had greeted them from the dais was a stranger to him, the circlet notwithstanding.
    Rannulf popped his head up out of the water and took a gulp of air. He’d be naught but a fool to read anything into the fact that she’d worn his gift. She’d no way of knowing he was part of Talbot’s party. ’Twas a coincidence, nothing more.
    Though ’twas surprising she’d kept it after his defection, he mused.
    He rubbed his eyes. At least she’d no knowledge of the hateful words he’d penned upon the betrothal agreement. Otherwise he’d never have escaped the hall intact.
    He accepted the towel Ella held out to him and wiped his face, then glanced up at the old woman m surprise once her stern glare made an impression upon his befuddled brain.
    â€œMy lady is a virtuous maiden, milord,” she said, indignation lending her voice an arrogance not usually heard from a servant.
    In his shock, he barely resisted the urge to snap out a response—any response—to her words. Did she think to take him to task here? Now?
    And did she suspect...?
    Her scowl deepening, Ella looked past him to Talbot, settled into a tub nearer the fire, and he realized she’d spoken to his overlord, not to him. What had Talbot said that he’d missed?
    â€œI care not what the custom is elsewhere, milord, but at I‘Eau Clair ’tis not proper for a young lady, innocent and unwed, to bathe a man.” Ella drew a length of toweling from the stack draped over her arm and fairly snapped it into Talbot’s outstretched hand.
    â€œâ€˜Innocent’ and