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she carried herself proudly, her chestnut hair flowing down her back, her green eyes sleepily seductive.
    Rolfe watched her approaching slowly. She saw the immediate effect she was having on him.
    “Sit, my lord,” she purred. “I am not tall enough to lift your heavy mail from you.”
    Bemused, Rolfe moved to a stool by the hearth. Amelia caught the hem of his chain mail and lifted it, then brought it over his head as he sat down. Some men remained in their armor for days when they were doing battle, and stank worse than an untended stable, but she had never known Rolfe to do so. He had an odor of sweat about him now that was a clean smell, his own smell. It was pleasant.
    “You have been away several days, Rolfe,” she said, adding a little pout as she bent down to untie his cross-garters. “I began to wonder if I would see you again before your wedding.”
    He grunted and Amelia smiled to herself. How much did she risk saying about the wedding? “Sir Evarard has been busy hunting for the feast,” Amelia continued. “I myself saw to the cleaning of the hall, for your steward was too busy.”
    This was a lie. She never bothered with supervising servants, but Rolfe didn’t know this. She wanted himto think she didn’t mind that he was marrying, that she intended to help.
    Amelia next removed his tunic and undershirt, but with such slow deliberation that Rolfe yanked her onto his lap before she could put the clothing aside. She feigned a squeal of protest, and he fastened his lips to hers in a heated kiss.
    She felt his urgency, but was unmoved except to feel satisfaction in knowing he wanted her so badly. She leaned back from him, bracing her hands against his chest so he could not capture her lips again. “Then you do still want me?” she asked him.
    “What fool question is this?” He frowned. “Does it seem I do not?”
    “I was not sure you would, my lord, when I heard of your marriage.” She spoke very quietly, as though wounded.
    “You need not concern yourself with that,” Rolfe replied gruffly.
    “But I must, my lord. I have been so afeared you would send me away.” The tears sprang to her eyes, just as she’d expected they would.
    “Why should I?”
    Amelia nearly lost her whole campaign by showing surprise, but she quickly recovered.
    “It is my wish to stay, Rolfe, but…your wife may have something to say about it.”
    “She will not.”
    “You must not be accustomed to women’s jealousies if you can say that. If she knows that you favor me in any way, she will demand that I leave.”
    “She will demand nothing here,” he stated flatly. “My will shall be her will.”
    “But you are not always here, Rolfe.” Amelia pouted. “What if she is cruel? What if she beats me?”
    He scowled. “Then she will be beaten. I will not have my people living in fear of their mistress.”
    That was not the answer she was looking for.
    “But how can I protect myself from her wrath when you are not here?” Amelia persisted.
    “You concern yourself without reason, Amelia. She will not abide here. I marry her for her land, no more.”
    “Truly?” She could not hide her surprise, and he laughed. “My dear, if I desired her, then I would have no need of you.”
    Amelia grinned, relief making her almost giddy. “On the morrow, there will be many guests here for the wedding. What do you tell them—”
    “That you are my ward.”
    She put her arms around his neck, rubbing her firm breasts against his chest. “Then my position here will not change, Rolfe? The servants must still do my bidding and—”
    “You talk overmuch, woman.”
    Rolfe fastened his lips over hers. He knew her game and was amused by it. But had he not needed this distraction, he would not have been amused, for he was not a man to be manipulated. If he had not been willing to grant what she asked, the time of asking would have made no difference. He refused to be enslaved by his own desire.
    As far as Rolfe was concerned,