Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

I t was a wild night at the Black Cock.

Because it was market day, more people were in the village than normal, and as the sun began to set, that crowd filtered into the tavern, filling it to the rafters with men and women and laughter and song.

A band of traveling minstrels from Bohemia had also come to rest at the tavern that night, and for their supper they agreed to play all evening. They had a woman with them, dressed in an elaborate costume with silver tassels on the end of her skirt, and she danced and sang while the music filled the stale air. One of the two hearths in the common room was malfunctioning, sending streams of blue smoke into the air and adding to the chaotic ambiance.

The kitchens at the Black Cock were working at full capacity on this night. Hobbes usually had two cooks and at least three kitchen servants in addition to the four serving wenches he employed, and also an old woman who cleaned up every morning after the mess, but tonight he had engaged two more serving wenches because of the unusually large crowd. Because they were filled to capacity, the kitchen had prepared food that was easier to serve crowds rather than the roasts or pies that they normally served. There were enormous pots of beans and pork and carrots, plus other pots full of beef and gravy and dumplings made from flour and water and butter. Numerous loaves of bread were baking every hour, and the lad who took care of the livery, including the cows and chickens, was churning butter as fast as he could.

When it became particularly busy after sunset, Hobbes put Elisiana in charge because she was very organized. She served food, dealt with unhappy customers, and took payment for their food and drink with a smile. If customers got too friendly and tried to pinch her, she was quick with a slap. That usually settled them down. If it didn't, the Lion Tamer was always within reach.

Everyone knew she wasn't afraid to use it.

But tonight, the mood seemed to be good. Everyone w happy, enjoying the beans or the beef or both. Everyone was allowed two servings of a dish, and if they wanted more, they had to pay for it. Tonight, there happened to be piles of those sweet ginger wafers that Elisiana had brought to Sinclair, so when the Blackchurch trainers arrived—all of them—that was one of the first things Sinclair demanded as they walked in and headed for their usual private room.

Elisiana and another wench named Aster gathered cups and pitchers of wine from the kitchens, heading into the private chamber as the trainers found their seats. They were chatting between themselves, but once Payne saw Elisiana, her hands full of cups, he called out to her.

"My bonny lass," he said loudly. "When are ye going tae marry me?"

Elisiana fought off a grin as she began to set the cups down in front of the trainers nearest her. "Only in your dreams," she said. "My mother would roll over in her grave if she knew I'd married a Scotsman, so it is best not to tempt fate."

"Yer mother is dead?"

"She is not, but if I marry you, it will kill her."

The group laughed at Payne's expense as Kristian spoke up. "And she is far too pretty for you," he said. "Why would she want to marry the likes of you?"

Payne tried to grab him by the neck, but Kristian just laughed. As those nearest Payne found amusement at his misfortune, Elisiana came to Amir and Ming Tang, seated next to one another.

"I'll have ginger beer for you," she told them, as neither drank wine or ale. "We received a new shipment of it yesterday and I've set some aside for you."

Amir was pleased because he liked ginger beer a great deal. "How kind of you," he said. "Did you get it from the supplier who makes it with lemon?"

She nodded. "The man in Bilbao who makes it with lemon and orange," she said. "I tasted it myself. It is delicious, but it is quite bubbly."

"Thank you, Lisi," Ming Tang said. "You are an excellent hostess. How Hobbes survived before you came, I do not know."

Elisiana smiled at the man who was from a country far to the east. He was always very polite with her, and she wanted to talk to him more about his country. Unfortunately, in her position as a serving wench, there simply wasn't the opportunity, but she was fascinated by him.

"Hobbes survived before and he'll survive after," she said, putting the last cup down in front of him. "But it is kind of you to say so."

"You are not leaving, are you?" Ming Tang asked.

She shook her head. "Not anytime soon," she said, her gaze moving to Sinclair, who was sitting next to Ming Tang. "But someday."

Sinclair was smiling up at her as she spoke, and he didn't miss the coy expression she threw him before heading out to collect the ginger beer. He watched her leave the room, trying not to be obvious about it, but beside him, Ming Tang spoke up.

"She is quite lovely," he said quietly. "I am certain that has not escaped your notice. It has not escaped Payne's, either."

Sinclair coolly eyed Payne across the table. "So I have been told."

Ming Tang looked at Payne, too, as he said something to Kristian that must have been very funny. That side of the table erupted in laughter.

"If it means anything, I do not believe he is serious about her," Ming Tang said. "She is another pretty face. He likes to tease her."

Sinclair sighed faintly and looked away. "I adore Payne," he said. "The last thing I would want to do is steal something he very much wanted."

Ming Tang looked at him. "You have only been back a couple of days," he said. "Has she caught your eye so much?"

"She brought me food today," Sinclair said, avoiding the question mostly. "We had a long conversation. She is bright and kind and humorous. But she is also a lady with many secrets."

"I know," Ming Tang said. "She does not belong here, Sin. I am certain you could see that from the start. She is elegant and lovely, and if I could guess, I would say she is a woman of high birth, either hiding from someone or has mayhap fallen on hard times."

"The first one."

Ming Tang looked at him curiously before he realized what the man meant. She's hiding from someone. He nodded his head in understanding.

"She told you?" he asked.

Sinclair nodded. "She did."

"Payne has trying to get that information for six months."

"She keeps it very guarded."

"But she told you," Ming Tang said, looking at him seriously. "Sin, I think you have returned to us a changed man."

There was something in his tone that made Sinclair look at him. Other than Tay and probably Fox, he had missed Ming Tang the most. Sinewy and powerful, he was not only an anomaly in England, but he was an anomaly anywhere in the Western world. There were few like him, this man who had made his way from the Far East by way of land and sea, finding his way to Blackchurch, where he taught skills that put them head and shoulders above any warrior on any field of battle. A Shaolin monk by training and education, he brought mysterious arts with him that he imparted to the worthy. Recruits in his class used to fight with hands and feet, using technique over sheer strength to subdue an opponent.

Ming Tang was a legend.

But he was also a great friend and unafraid to make his opinions known. Something else he'd brought with him from the Far East was wisdom that exceeded anything the Western world was capable of, because those in Ming Tang's land thought differently. They viewed life differently. It was that difference that made him so incredibly valuable as a friend, an advisor, and as a colleague. As Sinclair looked at him, he knew Ming Tang could read him like a book.

"Is it that obvious?" he finally asked.

Ming Tang nodded. "To me, it is," he said. "You look like the same Sinclair, but something has happened to you. There is more depth to you. More generosity of soul. Confucius teaches us that generosity of the soul is key to a man's happiness."

Sinclair smiled faintly. "I do not even know what that means," he said. "I will have to take your word for it."

Elisiana came back into the room bearing two pitchers. The other serving wench was with her, bringing a big tray with food upon it. Ming Tang and Sinclair watched Elisiana as she came in their direction.

"It means you are concerned for Payne's feelings for the woman," Ming Tang said softly. "If you feel strongly enough about her, you must speak with him. And you must be prepared for him to tell you that he loves her. I do not believe he does, but he might tell you that simply to stake his claim. If he does, what will you do?"

Sinclair sighed faintly with disappointment. "I will no longer speak to her without his permission," he said. "And I will not pursue her. I will defer to him, of course."

"That is what I mean by generosity of the soul. You think of Payne's happiness over your own."

Elisiana was upon them, putting the pitcher of ginger beer in between Amir and Ming Tang. "There," she said. "It is strong this time, but good. I hope you enjoy it."

Amir, who had been speaking with Creston on his other side, picked up the pitcher and poured himself a cup. "Thank you," he said. "I am going to have to learn how to make this myself. All we have at Blackchurch is boiled apple juice or boiled pear and quince. Sometimes strawberries or raspberries."

"Ginger beer is much better for you," Elisiana said. "It has great health benefits."

"Like what?"

"It keeps you well and helps with digestion," she said, putting the second pitcher of wine in front of Sinclair. "When you have an illness of the chest, ginger will help cure you. It is very good for you."

Amir lifted his cup to her and took a swallow, realizing that it was very strong this time. Strong but delicious. He smacked his lips, nodding his approval, as Ming Tang poured his own ginger beer. Seeing that those two were satisfied, Elisiana turned to Sinclair.

"I have some ginger wafers saved for you," she said for his ears only. "There are so many people in the tavern tonight that our supply has run low, but I managed to set some aside for you."

He smiled at her. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, my lord."

Gazing up at her, Sinclair realized he would be damn disappointed if Payne was serious about her. But Ming Tang was right—he valued his relationship with his fellow trainers too much to step into another man's territory. That wasn't something he'd truly thought about until this afternoon after she left and he'd had time to think.

That was when the thoughts truly came.

It was a repetitious afternoon with the class, so he stood over them and watched them perform the exercise over and over as his mind wandered to the woman with the nearly black hair and pale blue eyes. It wasn't merely her physical beauty that had his interest, but there was a fire in her that couldn't be dimmed. He could see it in her eyes, in everything about her. She was strong and resilient, and she believed in what she was doing. She believed that she was going to go to London and sell her drawings and make a life for herself. That kind of confidence was rare. Some men would call it stubbornness, or arrogance, but not Sinclair.

It was like a light in the darkness.

And like a moth to the flame, he was drawn to it.

Abruptly, he stood up.

"Payne," he said, quickly moving around the side of the table, "come with me."

Payne, who had a mouth full of the beans that the other serving wench had brought, looked at him in surprise. "Me?" he said. "What's it about, Sin?"

Sinclair reached him, grasping him by the arm and pulling him out of his chair. "Come," he said. "With me. Now."

Payne was chewing as Sinclair pulled him out of the chamber, through the crowded, smoky common room and out into the night air beyond. Once they were outside and away from the door, Sinclair turned to him.

"I have a need to speak with you," he said, lowering his voice. "But I want to start this by saying I love you like a brother. You have always been dependable and honest, and those are qualities I admire greatly."

Payne, his jovial manner subdued, was looking at Sinclair with great curiosity. "I admire ye as well," he said, unsure where Sinclair was going with this. "There's no finer swordsman in the world than ye, Sin. I'm honored tae call you my friend."

Sinclair waved a hand at him. "I wasn't looking for compliments," he said. "The truth is that I have just returned from a three-year absence at Blackchurch. Things change, the world changes, but I hope our relationship will never change."

"God himself couldna change it, lad."

"Could a woman?"

Payne's brow furrowed. "What woman?"

"Lisi."

That cleared up all of Payne's confusion, and his expression shifted from puzzled to almost wary in nature. "Ah," he said. "I understand now. The lass."

Sinclair shook his head. "It sounds absolutely mad for me to say this, but she has my attention," he said. "I do not know how, or why, but I feel comfortable when speaking to her. She makes me smile. I've known the woman for two whole days and you've known her for much longer, so I must ask… are you serious with your intention toward her?"

Payne's eyes glittered at him in the torchlight. "And if I was?"

Sinclair sighed heavily. "Then I would not go any further in my interest with her," he said. "I would not wish to offend you because your friendship means more to me than… that whatever I feel for Lisi. I want you to know that."

Payne, who was usually jovial and happy and joking the vast majority of the time, was oddly serious on the subject matter. That wasn't his usual expression, but then again, nothing about him was usual when it came to being a Scotsman. In the first place, he didn't look like a typical Scots—hairy and red-headed—but instead had dark blond hair, mussed on the crown but short on the sides, and a faint growth of beard that was lighter than his hair. He was fair-skinned, but big and muscular like the rest of the trainers. He wasn't unhandsome in the least, and had an oddly refined look to him until he opened his mouth, but he was at least six or seven years younger than Sinclair.

Maybe that was what threatened him.

He was younger and less civilized than the mature and responsible Sinclair.

Truth be told, if he shut his mouth and stopped being so loud and obnoxious, he might make a fine prospect to a lady like Elisiana, but Payne knew that he was too young and too immature to consider such a thing. At Blackchurch, he taught men how to size up an enemy and exploit their weaknesses, and he was damn good at it, but when it came to women, he had no idea how to handle them.

And he knew it.

But Sinclair did.

Damn…

"I appreciate yer honesty, lad," Payne said after a moment. "I thought ye might feel an attraction for her when I saw ye out here with her last night. I saw how ye looked at her. It's probably the same way I look at her."

Sinclair put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "If you are truly intent on wooing her, I will not pursue her," he said sincerely. "As I said, I've not been here for three years and there may be much more to your attraction to her than I am aware of, so if that is the case, all you need do is tell me. I will relinquish any interest I may have. That is a promise."

"And I believe ye," Payne said. "But the truth is that she looks ye in a way that she doesn't look at me. I saw it yesterday and I saw it tonight when she came with our drink. I also heard she brought ye food today."

"She did."

"She's never brought me food."

Sinclair wasn't sure what to say to that. Payne didn't seem angry, but he did seem concerned. Or maybe even disappointed. Sinclair really wasn't sure.

"I was not aware of your interest in her until after I'd already invited her to visit Blackchurch," he said. "At least, I was not aware of your serious interest, so if I overstepped, I apologize. Are you seriously interested in her, Payne?"

"And if I am?"

Sinclair shook his head. "Then you only need tell me and that will be the end of it."

Payne thought about that and, after a moment, simply nodded his head. Sinclair took that to mean that his friend was, indeed, serious, and the disappointment he felt was overwhelming. He wanted to remind Payne that Elisiana had brought him food, not Payne. He wanted to remind Payne that she had come to visit him after only having been home for two days, while she'd never come to visit Payne in the entire six months that he had tried to woo her.

But he didn't.

He forced himself to be gracious in defeat.

"Then I wish you well," he said quietly. "I truly do."

With that, he headed back to the tavern door, but thought better of it and turned the other way.

"Tell the others I went home to bed," he told Payne as he walked past him. "I'm still exhausted from my travels."

Payne watched him go. He truly loved Sinclair like a brother—a man who was rather quiet and stoic, but once in battle, he turned into an archangel of vengeance. No one could move with the skill Sinclair had, and Payne had always admired that greatly. In truth, he was jealous that Sinclair had been able to charm Elisiana to the point where the woman actually came to visit him at Blackchurch. Payne hadn't managed to do that in six whole months. Therefore, if anyone should surrender their suit, it should be Payne.

He knew that.

But he was sure he could woo her given more time.

… couldn't he?

"What happened? Where is Sinclair going?"

Payne turned to see Elisiana standing just outside the tavern door, a pitcher in her hand as she watched Sinclair head down the street, illuminated by the night watch torches.

"He is going tae bed," Payne said. "He's still weary from his travels."

Elisiana's gaze never left Sinclair as he moved away from her. "Oh," she said, sounding disappointed. "Was he feeling ill, then?"

Payne shook his head. "Nay," he said. "Just weary."

Elisiana's gaze lingered on Sinclair for a moment before she turned away. She was heading back inside, but Payne stopped her.

"Tell me something, Lisi," he said. "Will ye answer a question for me?"

She paused and looked at him. "If I can," she said. "What is it?"

Payne, a man with a considerable ego, found it difficult to form his thoughts when it came to personal feelings he knew weren't returned. He struggled for a moment before finally speaking.

"I know I annoy ye," he said. "I know I tell ye that I'm going tae marry ye, but do ye think… do ye think ye might ever be agreeable?"

Her eyebrows lifted. "To marrying you?"

"Aye."

She smiled, but it wasn't one of joy or adoration. It was one of regret. A twisted little gesture of regret. "Are you serious, Payne?" she asked. "Because if you are, I must tell you that there is no chance that I would ever be agreeable. I am sorry if that is disappointing, but it is true. I think you are a kind man and I have enjoyed knowing you, but there could never be more between us. I am truly sorry."

That was a bit of a blow for Payne. Not a surprising one, but a blow nonetheless. "What about Sinclair?" he asked.

"What about him?"

"Could ye see yerself marrying him?"

"I do not see where that is any of your business."

Payne shrugged. "Ye brought him food today," he said. "Ye've never done that for me. Why did ye do it for him?"

She sighed and hung her head. "Payne, there has simply never been anything special between us," she said. "I do not know what more to say. I do not want to hurt your feelings, but it is the truth."

"Are ye telling me that there is something special between ye and Sinclair?"

Elisiana's cheeks flushed as she kept her gaze lowered. She didn't want to answer him because she didn't want it to get back to Sinclair. Having no idea how the man felt about her, she didn't want to shame herself by declaring her interest in a man who was just being nice to her. Secretly, of course, she hoped it was more than that, but one could never be sure. And she certainly wasn't going to declare it to Payne.

"I'm telling you that it is none of your affair," she said quietly. "My business is my own. You are a nice man, Payne, and your annoying ways make me laugh, but that is where it ends. I cannot be much clearer than that."

He sighed heavily. Loudly and heavily. Payne never did anything quietly. "Well," he said after a moment, "ye've been honest with me. I canna fault ye for it. But is there something ye dislike about me? Something I can change?"

Elisiana shook her head. "Nay, it's nothing like that."

"Do I smell bad?"

"Nothing like that, I promise."

"Am I too ugly for ye?"

Elisiana put up her hand to stop him. "Payne, it is nothing like that, I swear it," she insisted. "Who is to say why we are attracted to others? I'm sure you've met lovely girls in your life, but you did not want to marry them, did you? And you do not know why. Sometimes there is no way to explain such things. They simply… happen."

He shrugged. "I suppose," he said. Then his gaze moved to the road where Sinclair had disappeared. "Do ye want me tae fetch him for ye?"

Elisiana shook her head. "Nay," she said quickly. "Why would I?"

"Because he's sweet on ye and I told him that I saw ye first."

Elisiana's eyes widened. "You… you said what ?"

Payne could sense that she wasn't pleased. Fearful that he'd upset her, he took a step back, afraid she might try to smack him.

"He asked me if I was serious in my pursuit of ye," he said. "He told me that he wouldna try tae woo ye if I was serious."

A hand flew to Elisiana's mouth. "He said that?"

"He did."

Elisiana was astonished. "And you told him you were serious?"

Payne shrugged weakly. "I did," he said. "I thought if I had more time, I could… but I suppose it doesna matter now. If ye are fond of the man, I'll fetch him for ye."

She almost told him that it wasn't his business again, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. If Sinclair wanted to woo her, then she was more than willing to let him. She couldn't even think of the plan she'd had, of how she wanted to sell her drawings in London and live well, experiencing life as it was meant to be experienced. All she could think of was the handsome man with the pale eyes and winning smile, someone who made her feel alive in a way she'd never experienced before.

She was nodding her head before she could stop herself.

"Aye," she said after a moment. "Fetch him."

"I'll not fetch him if ye mean tae toy with him," Payne said warningly. "Only if ye mean it."

"I mean it."

Payne nodded, perhaps with some regret, and headed off into the darkness, following Sinclair's path back to Blackchurch. As he disappeared down the street, Elisiana went back into the tavern.

Feeling just the least bit giddy.

It was warm and stale and smoky in the common room, and the minstrels were still playing as the woman with silver tassels continued to dance for the coins the patrons would throw to her. But Elisiana wasn't paying any attention. Her mind was elsewhere.

He wants to woo me!

She'd never been wooed in her life, at least not by someone she was actually receptive to. Adolph's foolish attempt seemed like a bad dream. Was this God's plan all along? she wondered. Running away only to find a man like Sinclair?

As if in a daze, she headed to the rear of the tavern where there was a small staircase that led to rooms above. She had a small room to herself because of the extra work she did for Hobbes, and she went into her chamber, tiny as it was, and shut the door. Over the past six months, she'd accumulated quite a collection of finery from passing merchants and she pawed through the careful piles, coming across a lovely lavender gown. It wasn't terribly fancy, made from a durable cloth that had been dyed pale purple, so she supposed she could get away with working in it. It had long sleeves, nicely showing off her round breasts and narrow torso, and she quickly put it on, running a comb through her hair and braiding it so it draped over her right shoulder, which was her usual style. She took the apron off the clothes she had been wearing, putting it on over the lavender gown to protect it from the fools who would spill, vomit, or do any number of things that would stain it.

Perhaps Sinclair might like to see her in something other than brown broadcloth and a leather girdle. Knowing how he felt, she wanted to look presentable to him. She'd never wanted anything more in her life. This was a moment she never thought she'd face in her life, but here it was. A most unexpected moment.

But a moment that would change her life forever.

And she was ready.

*

"Sin!"

Sinclair was nearly to the main gatehouse of Blackchurch when he heard someone calling him. He wasn't in any mood to stop, so he simply kept walking, drawing closer to the gatehouse until someone grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to stop. He whirled around, right fist balled, only to see Payne standing behind him.

He had to take a step back or risk throwing that fist into the man's nose.

"Leave me alone, Payne," he said, backing away. "I'm exhausted and I need to rest. Just… leave me alone."

Payne followed him, but at a safe distance. He hadn't missed the balled fist. "I dinna come for me, Sin," he said. "I came for her. She told me tae fetch ye."

Sinclair frowned. "Who told you?"

"The lass. Lisi."

Sinclair came to a stop then, eyeing the man suspiciously. "What do you mean she sent you to fetch me?" he said. "Why would Elisiana do that?"

Payne's features twisted in confusion. "Elisiana?"

"That is her true name. And you will never repeat it, not unless she tells you herself."

Payne had to think about that revelation. It seemed that Sinclair knew more about Lisi than he did, which perhaps only served to reinforce the reason why he'd come. He gestured back in the direction of the tavern.

"Did ye not see her come out as ye were leaving?" he said. "She wanted tae know why ye were leaving, and I told her."

Sinclair's eyes widened. "What did you tell her?"

"That ye were sweet on her but I told ye that she belonged tae me."

Sinclair grunted unhappily and hung his head. "I see," he said. "Payne, I do not wish to talk to her or to you. I've done quite enough talking for one day."

"But—"

Sinclair cut him off. "I do not need her to tell me that although she is flattered, she has no interest in me," he said. Then he jabbed a finger at Payne. "You should not have told her anything. You have a big mouth, Payne. You should have kept it shut."

With that, he turned for the gatehouse, but Payne stopped him again. " Sinclair , listen," he said. "Listen tae me or I swear I'll not tell ye that she told me I'm ugly and she wants nothing tae do with me. No amount of wooing will win her. I'll not tell ye that she's as sweet on ye as ye are on her. Walk away from me and ye'll know none of it!"

He was practically shouting by the time he was finished and Sinclair had come to a halt. He simply stared at Payne as if he had no idea what to say, but at least he wasn't trying to walk away anymore. For several long and painful moments, he simply stared at him.

The mood of the conversation shifted.

"Did she tell you that?" he finally asked.

Payne nodded. "After she told me that there was no chance between us, I asked her if she was fond of ye," he said. "She told me it was none of my affair, but I knew she was disappointed because ye were heading back tae Blackchurch, so I told her I would only fetch ye if she was keen on ye. If she was serious. She said that she was."

Sinclair drew in a long, slow breath. He retraced his steps back to Payne, looking the man in the eye.

"You know it was never my intention to come between you and a woman you wanted," he said. "I hope you believe that."

Payne smiled weakly. "She's simply not the right lass for me," he said. "But she may be the right one for ye."

"Are you certain this will not come between us?"

Payne nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. "Go to her, lad," he said. "If ye have feelings for her, tell her. Whatever has happened between the two of ye has happened quickly, so it must've meant tae happen. How do I know? Because I put six bloody months in on the lass and she never looked at me twice. But ye… She looked twice at ye the day she met ye."

That seemed to settle it. Truthfully, Payne didn't seem all that upset by it, and Ming Tang's words came flooding back to Sinclair. I do not believe he is serious. Perhaps the man had been right after all.

The only one serious about Elisiana was Sinclair.

After a moment, he forced a smile and patted Payne on the cheek before heading back toward Exebridge and the Black Cock. He was trying not to run, but by the time he hit Exebridge's perimeter, he was very nearly skipping. He slowed down once he came into the glare of the torches, with the Black Cock directly ahead and full of people. He could hear the music and conversation as he approached. Reaching the door, he ducked inside, his gaze immediately searching for Elisiana. A perusal of the common room showed that she wasn't there, so he headed to the private room where the trainers were.

She wasn't in the private room, either. He wondered if he should go looking for her, but Cruz reached out and tugged on his arm, pulling him down into the nearest chair.

"Sit," Cruz commanded. "We've been waiting for tales of your grand adventures. Will you indulge us?"

Sinclair didn't want to. He had a woman to see. But there were several eager faces looking back at him so he relented, picking up the cup nearest him and drinking the sweet red wine.

"Of course," he said, smiling weakly at the men around him. "As you can imagine, I'm quite weary from the travel and today has taken more out of me than I had anticipated, but I shall try to remember a few of the greater moments. Mayhap I should simply start from the beginning."

"How was Niko, Sin?" Tay asked from across the table. "Athdara is not here now, so you can say what you will about him. I know he is rather headstrong."

They were speaking of the young duke of Toxandria, who had barely been on the cusp of manhood when he sailed with Sinclair back for his home and the battle that awaited him. Thinking back to that time, Sinclair pushed thoughts of Elisiana aside and focused on those early days of uncertainty and excitement.

"He was actually quite obedient," he said. "Niko was eager, of course, but he wasn't foolish. And he listened when I told him to behave himself. When we took the cog out of London, heading for Dunkirk, I do not think he sat down or slept once. All he could think of was the fact that we were returning to the scene of his uncle's crime. He paced, he chewed his nails, and he watched for the shoreline. I thought I was going to have to tie him to the ship when we finally reached our destination. He was so eager to jump onto dry land that I was afraid he was going to break his neck."

"And the uncle?" Fox asked. "What happened to the man who stole his dukedom?"

Sinclair sat back in his chair, puffing out his cheeks as he thought on a subject with a long and complex answer. "Niko wanted to challenge him," he said as concisely as he could. "He was eager to fight him, to punish the man for what he did to his father and older brother. Both of them were killed when Atilla brought a mercenary army in to overthrow Athdara's father, you know. Niko felt strongly about avenging them."

"Did he?" Fox said.

Sinclair shrugged. "It took two years before we had the opportunity to deal with Atilla, and that was only because he had been captured trying to escape Breda Castle," he said. "Niko was determined to challenge his uncle and kill him, but I wasn't convinced he could actually do it. Men cannot fight effectively if they are overwrought with emotion, so…"

He suddenly stopped as Elisiana entered the room, carrying more wine. Aster was with her and they began to move around the table, filling cups and trying to stay unobtrusive. Elisiana was nearly finished filling Tay's cup when she happened to look up and see Sinclair. Clearly unaware he'd returned, she fumbled the pitcher and it hit the table, splashing a little, but Sinclair was already on his feet, moving in her direction.

"Come with me," he said to her, grasping her by the wrist. "I must speak with you."

His abrupt departure had his fellow trainers looking at each other with puzzlement, but Sinclair couldn't worry about that. Not now. He pulled Elisiana out the back of the tavern, into the rather large livery yard that was quiet and dark at this hour. A few torches burned just for some light to see by, but there was very little near the livery for obvious reasons. Sinclair led Elisiana over to the corral that was stuffed with sleeping horses before he finally came to a stop, turning to her in the faint torchlight.

For a moment, he simply looked at her, realizing she'd changed out of the clothing he'd seen her in earlier. She was wearing a pretty lavender dress, something that looked magnificent on her. As the smell of dung and horses rose up around them, he struggled for something to say, something profound, but settled on something simple instead.

"Payne told me what happened," he said quietly.

She smoothed at the errant strands of curly hair in her face. "He told me, too," she said. "He said that you asked him if he intended to court me."

"I did."

"Why did you ask him that?"

Sinclair had never had an embarrassed moment in his life. No chagrin, no mortification, nothing. He was a man of supreme confidence in everything he did. Therefore, the heat coming to his cheeks at her question was something unfamiliar. He actually thought he might blush.

"Because if he wasn't going to ask to court you, I was," he said.

A smile spread across her lips. " Was? " she said. "You do not intend to any longer?"

He started to chuckle nervously. "I do intend to," he said. "I've simply never been in this position before. I am not certain where to go from here."

She started to giggle. "You must simply speak the words," she said. "It is not difficult. Shall I help you?"

He frowned, or at least tried to. "Nay," he said. "I will do this myself."

"My apologies."

He could see she wasn't serious and was trying not to smile at her. "I suppose I should tell you what you will be facing with me before I ask," he said. "As you know, I am a Blackchurch trainer. It is my vocation, my passion. I do not intend to leave, so your life would be spend with me as the wife of a Blackchurch trainer. It is a good life, however. I have some wealth and we could purchase anything you wish. We would have our own home. You would have servants and good food. And you could spend your days drawing to your heart's content."

He was trying to sell her on the life she would lead, but the truth was that he didn't have to. She'd already decided when Payne had told her about Sinclair's intentions that she would be perfectly happy as long as she was with him. London and her plan to sell her drawings didn't seem to matter anymore because the prospect of a future as Sinclair's wife had her as giddy as drunken nun.

"What else would I have?" she asked.

He wasn't quite following her. "What else do you want?"

She shrugged. "Would I have you?" she said. "Would I have your affection? Or would you expect us to live separate lives?"

He did frown then. "Of course not," he said. "I would expect you to be by my side, always. You would manage my house and manage me if the mood strikes you. You would most definitely have my affection and I would be loyal to you, and only you, until I die. I am not an eloquent man, Elisiana, but I know how to speak from the heart. I do not ask to court you lightly. I do it because over the past two days, I've realized that you are someone I want to know. And I want you to know me. I want to have you bring me food and I want to have conversations about your drawings, your dreams, and I want you to trust me with your secrets. For I will most assuredly trust you with mine. If this is the kind of marriage that appeals to you, I will do my very best to provide it."

By the time he was finished, the smile was gone from her face and she was looking at him in astonishment. Perhaps not astonishment so much as overwhelming delight. After a moment, she smiled brightly, reaching out to put a hand on his arm.

"That was the most eloquent speech I've ever heard," she said softly. "And most convincing."

He smiled timidly. "Was it?"

"It was."

"Your life will not be in London, you know," he said. "It will be here, with me, in the wilds of Devon."

"I think I would rather be in the wilds of Devon with you than in London without you."

That, by far, was the most eloquent part of the conversation. Unable to reply to that, because it touched him deeply in his vulnerable state, he simply pulled her against him and slanted his lips over hers. He kissed her sweetly at first, acquainting her with his touch, but her scent filled his nostrils and he was overwhelmed with her. His big arms went around her, holding her tightly as his lips suckled hers, tasting what was surely the sweetest mouth in all the world. He was pulling her closer, feasting on her, squeezing the breath from her, when he suddenly stopped as if only just aware of what he was doing.

"Forgive me," he said hoarsely, releasing her so she could breathe. "Did I hurt you?"

Elisiana grinned, her mouth red from where his stubble had rubbed her tender skin. "Nay," she said. "Not at all."

Seeing her reaction made him smile, and he pulled her into his arms again, this time far more gently, and kissed her sweetly.

"There," he murmured. "Better?"

"Better than what?" she said, her hands on his shoulders as she gazed into his eyes. "Better than the moment before? Aye, it was better than the moment before. And your next kiss will be better than the one before it. Every moment from this day forward will be better than the one before it. With you, it could be nothing less."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "You flatter me, lady."

"It is the truth."

He was still holding her close, his gaze moving over her thick fringe of dark lashes, the dusting of freckles on her nose that he could see in the weak light. He was studying her, memorizing her face, a face that belonged to him as he was coming to belong to her.

"I hope it is always the truth," he whispered. "I will endeavor to make it so."

"I believe you."

He gazed at her a moment longer before loosening his grip. "But there is something we must discuss, I think," he said. "Before this goes any further, we must discuss your father. The truth is that I should ask his permission to court you. That is the proper way to go about these things."

Her smile faded. "Mayhap it is, but he wants me to marry a man of his choosing," she said. "If you ask him for permission, he will deny you. It would be better to marry and tell him after the fact. That way, he could not separate us."

He lifted an eyebrow. "You think he would?"

"I know he would."

Sinclair didn't like that thought in the least. "Who is this man he has selected for your husband?"

She sighed heavily with displeasure and pulled out of his embrace. "His name is Adolph de Rade," she said. "My mother's brother married a woman recently and Adolph is her son. He serves the Earl of Lincoln."

"Have you met him?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I ran away?" she said. "My uncle has told him everything about me, including the drawings and why I was sent away from Pevensey, and he seemed to think that was reason enough to be vulgar with me. My parents forced me to show him the garden, and he was quite forward. He wanted me to touch him… where men find pleasure… but I refused. Instead, I kicked him in his privates and pushed him into a pond."

Sinclair was listening seriously until she told him what she had done. Then it was all he could do not to smile at her brutal, but brave, act. Instead, he pulled her into an embrace again and gave her a tender hug.

"Good lass," he whispered into the side of her head. "You did the right thing."

Elisiana clung to him, enjoying their embrace, holding him tightly as he held her. "Do you think so?"

"Of course I do," he said. "But I doubt Adolph does. Sounds as if he deserved what he received."

Elisiana hugged him a moment longer before loosening her grip enough to look at him. "But that is why my father will deny you," she said. "He is convinced that Adolph is the husband I need and I do not think you could change his mind. As wonderful as you are, my father is very stubborn when it comes to his wants."

"So am I," Sinclair said. Then he cocked his head thoughtfully. "So, it seems we have a quandary on our hands. But the fact is that you did run away six months ago."

"True."

"And your father has not seen you since and he does not know where you are."

"Quite true."

"That being the case, we could marry and send him word," Sinclair said. "How big is his army?"

She shrugged. "I am not sure," she said. "I heard my brother say once that my father has an army of eight hundred fools and men, but that was a while ago."

"Good," Sinclair said. "Even if he discovered we were at Blackchurch, he could not get to you. The Lords of Exmoor have a highly trained army of over a thousand men. They could easily withstand any assault."

"I would feel terrible if that happened."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "It would not be your fault, but your father's," he said. "In any case, we will address the issue if, and when, it comes. Meanwhile…"

"Meanwhile what ?"

"I should probably let you resume your task so Hobbes does not come looking for you," he said. "I do not want him to become angry."

She smiled, watching him take her hand and kiss it gently. "But you will return on the morrow?"

"I will return every single day until such time as we decide to marry," he said. "Let us take the time to know one another, Lisi. We are already moving quite swiftly in this relationship. I should like to take the time to come to know you very well, so we can both be very sure that this is what we want."

She nodded. "That is wise," she said. "I will win your heart with ginger wafers until you're too fat to walk through the door. Then you will not be able to run away from me."

He laughed. "And I will be a willing victim," he said. "But you have the situation wrong. You will not win my heart. I will win yours."

"I do not think it will take much effort, to be truthful. You have a good start."

He grinned and kissed her hand again before walking with her over to the rear door. With one last kiss to her fingers, he let her hand go and watched her enter in front of him. For a few moments, he simply watched her, this graceful and beautiful woman he was quickly growing obsessed with. When he'd returned home yesterday, he could have never imagined the turn his life would take. It seemed like a dream.

A dream he was more than willing not to wake up from.