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She stopped only once, when a waning sliver of sunlight streaked through the cloud blanket. To her right, fat sheep slouched in the pasture. To the left, the pounding waves of the sea crashed against the cliffs. She loved Cornwall, its wildness and its mystery. She stood for a moment, a still figure crowning a lonely hilltop. Then she hurried on.

She stopped when she reached the secluded covert where she was to meet Roderick. A prickly unease crept up her spine. Just for an instant, she had the strangest sensation she was being watched.

A tall figure stepped out from behind a thicket of spindly trees.

"Roderick!" She pushed back her hood and held out her hands, suddenly ashamed of her fleeting apprehension and reassured by his presence. He grasped her hands and gazed down at her. She did not miss the flare of approval in his eyes.

Aye, she thought, she had chosen well. Roderick was strong and quick-thinking, and, above all, ambitious. She was counting on his ambition to help her regain Ashbury. It was but a boon that he was pleasing to look upon. With his tawny-brown hair, his imposing stature and blazing golden eyes, he reminded her of the majestic lion gracing the silk tapestry her father had brought back from the Holy Land.

"Well?" One thick golden brow hiked upwards. "I can wait no longer for your answer, lady. Do you or do you not seek to be my wife?"

Her eyes lowered demurely. "I do," she said with the tiniest of smiles. She glanced up in time to see an expression of triumph settle on his features. Roderick had, she realized, never doubted her answer.

Kathryn found the notion vaguely disturbing. At times Roderick's behavior bordered on arrogant. But wasn't it true that this, too, might be a blessing in disguise?

She let him lead her beneath the shelter of a tree. His smile contained a rare flash of humor as he grandly spread his cloak upon the mossy ground and pulled her down upon it. She was surprised at his set expression when he turned to her. "I have thought long and hard about what you said earlier—that your uncle may balk at letting us marry."

Kathryn bit her lip. "I, too," she confessed.

"I fail to see how he can say me nay when I take you unto me with no marriage portion."

Her eyes flashed fire. Her chin shot up and her mouth opened, but before she could say a word Roderick chuckled. "You are very proud, my love. I like that, just as I have always admired the way you stand up to your uncle. But there is no need to do battle with me, sweet." The laughter went out of his eyes. "I will not let Richard stand in our way. If I must, I will snatch you from this place and we can be married at the monastery near Boscastle. The abbot there is a distant cousin of my father's and will give us no trouble. Once the deed is done

and the marriage consummated, there is naught Richard can do."

His frankness made her flush with embarrassment, but she laid her hand on his arm. 'There may be another way." Her skin pinkened further. "I—I thought we might tell him I am with child."

Roderick laughed heartily. "You are a cunning one, aren't you? Well, perhaps you have reason. I've oft thought that Richard has not done right by you and your sister. Mayhap we will change that once we are married."

But Kathryn heard only one word .. . Cunning. She felt she'd been dealt a stunning blow to the head. Desperate, mayhap .. . but cunning? The word brought to mind deceit and deception. . . traits that belonged to her uncle.

She wasn't like him. She wasn't! She was doing what she had to. It was the only way she could hope to wrench Ashbury from her uncle's greedy hold. She would surely die if she and Elizabeth were forced to live out the rest of their lives with him!

As for Roderick, she reminded herself she had not lied to him. She had never professed to love him, nor had he asked that she love him. Who married for love anyway? Marriage was for expedience and gain.

She swallowed the pangs of guilt and forced a smile. Roderick ran a finger down the tapered line of her jaw. "Come here, love. I crave a sampling of the sweetness soon to be mine."

Kathryn tensed. His gaze had fastened on her mouth. "Roderick," she began, "I do not think that we—"

He reached for her. His words were smothered against the softness of her cheek. " 'Tis only a kiss, dearest, just a kiss... nothing to what we shall share a month from now."

She lifted her hands to push him away, only to find his arms wrapping tightly around her. She saw his eyes, the flame of desire high and bright. His head lowered slowly. Startled by the touch of a man's lips against hers, she felt herself go slack in surprise.

His touch was not what she expected. Handsome as Roderick was, in some distant corner of her mind she had thought to be repulsed by such intimacy. But for all his fierce gaze, his kiss was gentle and sweet. Gradually her fingers uncurled against his leather gambeson. Indeed, the kiss was scarcely unpleasant. Was it possible, she thought in amazement, that there was pleasure to be found in a man's touch?

Her lips parted softly in surprise, and then suddenly everything changed. She felt his hands in her hair, tugging at her braid, his fingers loosening the silky ebony strands. Deftly he unfastened her cloak and pushed it from her shoulders. She moaned, a tiny sound of protest and distress, but it was smothered against a mouth gone hard and demanding. In rising panic, she struggled against his hold. But he crushed her against him and bore her back against the ground, his body completely covering hers.

Somehow she managed to tear her mouth free. "Roderick," she gasped out. "Roderick, please!"

But it wasn't her voice that stopped him cold. It was the unmistakable sound of steel whispering sleekly against a scabbard...

Roderick twisted and bounded to his feet. Kathryn jolted upright. Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. It spun through her mind that if she were wise, she would leap up and run as if the yawning pits of hell gaped at her feet.

For if the devil were flesh and blood, it was surely Satan who stood before them now.

Chapter 2

In truth, Guy had no patience with these two young lovers. Soon darkness would cloak the earth in its murky shroud. Ashbury Keep lay but a short distance away. The groundwork for his siege was already in place on the far side of the keep. He had only to move his remaining troops into place under cover of night and await the dawn.

And soon .. . soon Richard's soul would rot in hell.

For now, it was necessary to make sure these two did not raise the alarm. He signaled to one of the foot soldiers to disarm the man.

When his sword and dagger had been stripped from him, Guy sat upon his destrier and surveyed the pair coolly. The man was tall and strong-looking, his body well conditioned; Guy would have been proud to number this man among his own. There was the unmistakable look of a warrior about him, sharp and alert. He stood poised and ready for any sign of provocation, yet he wasn't foolish enough to endanger either himself or the girl. As for the girl, she had yet to move. Indeed, Guy thought with cynical amusement, she looked utterly terrified.

It was the man who spoke first. "This land belongs to Richard of Ashbury. Who are you? Why are you here?”

Guy's lips smiled. His eyes did not. "I might ask the same of you, sir knight. But 'tis plain you seek the pursuit of love here, not war." The smile dallied about his lips. "But I fear our arrival came too soon for you to fully pluck the fruits of this comely wench."

Wench! Kathryn's fear vanished. She saw the mounted knight through a fiery mist of rage. The scornful tone of his voice was too much to bear. She scrambled to her feet and marched forward.

"You go too far, sir!" she hissed. "I am no serving maid that you may insult at your leisure. And I demand that you honor our request and make known your intentions! You and your men come here armed and ready to do battle. Is that the role you seek—that of conquering invader?"

Amazed at the girl's audacity, a low murmur went up among the men. Guy stared at her in silent speculation. Her woolen dress was worn and thin, little better than a servant’s, which he had assumed she was. But now that she was up and on her feet, he saw that she possessed pride and grace. He was both irritated and intrigued by her boldness.