His Lady Fair. Margo Maguire

the service of Henry of Lancaster when Henry had taken the throne from King Richard, and had been a loyal Lancastrian ever since.

      To Nick’s knowledge, the man had no family, but was entirely dedicated to the service of England.

      Was it possible he’d gone traitor?

      If he had, Nicholas would prove it. Then he would personally see to the man’s execution.

      Chapter Seven

      Typically, Henric Tournay had seen to all the details for the day’s hunt. There was nothing left for Nicholas to do but ruminate over the letter he’d received on his arrival at Kirkham, regarding Sterlyng’s alleged treason.

      Thinking of the methods he would employ in his investigation of Sterlyng, Nick took a leisurely stroll back to the keep and circled ’round toward the garden in back, where he and Edmund used to play as children.

      The gardeners had done their work well, for the flower beds were raked out, and there were new, young shoots just beginning to poke through the winter-ravaged ground. ’Twas difficult for Nicholas to understand how anything could grow after the past winter, which had been uncharacteristically harsh, but he supposed that was life. It always seemed to renew itself.

      He followed the footpath through the squat fruit trees with their gnarled branches covered with early buds, and headed for the secret part of the garden where he and Edmund used to hide from their tutor. Though not quite a maze, it was a winding path, and the deeper one followed it into the garden, the farther away from the world it seemed.

      He had nearly reached the low wall where the vines grew thick when he heard a low, feminine voice speaking.

      “Come down, you fierce little beast!”

      Vaguely, Nicholas recalled similar words being spoken to him years before.

      He grinned and walked on, following the cooing voice, and stopped when he rounded a set of tall evergreens. Lady Maria stood on her toes, trying to coax a kitten out of the crotch of a tree.

      Regrettably, she was quite properly dressed this morning, in a deep blue velvet gown with long, flowing sleeves and a high neckline that would have pleased a nun. Her head was covered, as well, though her golden tresses were partially visible through the headpiece and veil.

      He wondered how she’d managed to walk all this way unaided.

      Unless her ankle was better…?

      “Come now, poor kitty,” she said, unaware of Nicholas’s quiet approach behind her. She raised one hand invitingly toward the tree, and Nick hoped the kitten wouldn’t give her a nasty scratch. “I do not want you to fall. Where is your mama?”

      The kitten finally relented and moved tentatively, stretching its paws and taking one step toward Maria. She reached up and allowed the kitten to come to her. When it was close enough, Maria took it gently in her hands and cuddled it to her breast.

      Nicholas stopped to observe the sensuous stroking of Maria’s small hands over the tawny fur of the cat. A stab of desire, as fierce as any he’d ever known, shot through him as he watched.

      He regained some semblance of self-possession and approached her, taking care not to startle her.

      “I daresay I wouldn’t mind your hands doing that to me, my lady fair,” he said. To his delight, she blushed sweetly and allowed the kitten to drop to the ground and scamper away. Then she reached awkwardly for the crutch that was propped against the tree.

      “My lord,” she said. “You should not say such things.”

      “No?” he asked, moving closer. He lifted her chin with one finger and looked into her eyes. “Your little friend shed his fur all over you.” Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he gently began to brush away the cat hair from the velvet bodice.

      He knew he was out of order, touching her this way, but when she trembled at his touch, he could not seem to help himself. He did not want to help himself.

      Again he was unsure of her reaction to him, though he remembered how she’d felt against him during the night. Soft. Lush. Inviting. His palms itched to have her naked beneath them again, with her breasts tightening in response to his caress.

      His body screamed with the urgency to touch her, and he wanted her more in that moment than he could remember ever wanting anyone.

      She suddenly moved her crutch and stepped away, breaking all physical contact with him. She turned and surveyed the area between herself and the garden wall.

      “This part of the garden is unusual,” Ria said once she was able to trust her voice. It had never occurred to her that Lord Kirkham would be out wandering the garden while he had so many guests to attend to. And somehow he’d done it again—managed to disconcert her with his eyes, and a mere brush of his hand. “I’ve never seen vines that grow so thick….”

      Nicholas cleared his throat. “My brother and I used to hide here,” he said as he approached her again. He looked dark and cross, and more dangerous than ever. Maria could not keep herself from envisioning his naked chest, broad and muscular, with its spattering of dark hair and flat brown nipples. She hoped he did not notice her unease.

      “We had a particularly nasty tutor,” he continued, his voice low and intimate, “who liked nothing better than to thrash us whenever we slipped away from our lessons.”

      “And your parents allowed this thrashing?”

      He shrugged. “I suppose your parents coddled you?”

      Maria averted her eyes so he would not be able to read the truth in them. “Of course.”

      She jumped a bit when he lifted her locket from its resting place against her breast.

      “This is an interesting piece,” he remarked, gazing intently into her eyes again. The back of his hand rested against her heart, and Maria was certain he could feel it racing. “What secrets does it hold?”

      “None of any interest to you, my lord,” Ria said, whisking it out of his hand and moving away. “’Twas my mother’s.” She knew she should not be alone with him here in the garden, since he’d proved himself anything but trustworthy. She could not trust herself when she was alone with him, either.

      “Where did you get the crutch?” he asked as he followed.

      “Aggie…your maid gave it to me,” Maria replied. “Her younger brother is lame and he outgrew this crutch.”

      “It looks awkward,” Nicholas said. “Take my arm instead.”

      “This will do, my lord,” Maria said. She did not want to touch him, nor could she allow him to touch her again. The experience was all too disturbing.

      She only wanted her ankle to heal enough for her to leave Kirkham and head for Rockbury. The sooner she knew whether or not she was Maria Burton, the better.

      “Have you broken your fast?” he asked, taking the crutch from her anyway, and then tucking her arm in his.

      Maria did not know how to protest this familiarity and still maintain her semblance of a noble demeanor. She let it go, and hobbled alongside him. “Nay, my lord.”

      “Then you will do so with me,” he said.

      “But I—”

      “No one will be up and about for hours,” he said. “’Twill give us an opportunity to become better acquainted.”

      “I thought we became rather more acquainted than we should last night, my lord,” Maria said, then wished she had bitten her tongue. Oh, why had she said such a thing?

      “Nowhere near as well acquainted as we will be, my lady,” he said, clearly amused by her discomfiture.

      His remark caused a slight hitch in her step, but Maria could think of no retort. She kept silent as she limped beside