His name was James, Madelyne learned, and he was married to Maude. Their son, William, was still attached to his mama's skirts, but James was patiently awaiting the time when the boy would be old enough to become apprentice under him. The child would follow tradition, James explained with an air of importance.

"Silenus would let you ride him bareback," James announced after he'd given Madelyne a tour of his domain.

Madelyne smiled. James had accepted her name for Duncan 's mount. "I've never ridden bareback," she said. " 'Tis the truth, James, that I've not ridden much at all."

"Perhaps," James suggested with a kind smile, "when the rain eases a bit, you could learn the proper way."

Madelyne nodded.

"Now, if you've never learned, how'd you get from one place to the next, I'm wondering," James admitted.

"I walked," Madelyne told him. She laughed over his look of surprise. " 'Tis not a sin I'm confessing."

"I've a gentle mare you could start your practicing with," he suggested.

"Nay, I think not," Madelyne answered. "Silenus wouldn't like that much. I think his feelings might be injured, and we can't allow that, now, can we?"

"We can't?" James looked confused.

"I'll do well enough with Silenus."

"'Tis the lord's stallion you're wanting to ride, milady?" James stammered. He sounded as if he were strangling.

"I know whom he belongs to," Madelyne returned. "Don't concern yourself over the animal's size," she said, trying to ease the incredulous look off his face. "I've ridden Silenus before."

"But do you have the lord's permission?"

"I shall gain it, James."

Madelyne smiled again, and all the logical arguments went right out of the stablemaster's mind. Aye, he told himself, from the look in her pretty blue eyes and the way she smiled up at him so trustingly, James suddenly found himself in complete agreement.

When Madelyne left the stable, the guard walked beside her. He was a constant reminder to her and to everyone else that she was not an invited guest. Anthony's attitude toward her had softened considerably though. He wasn't nearly as irritated by his duty.

From the way Anthony was greeted by the other soldiers, Madelyne surmised he was well thought of. He had an attractive smile, a boyish grin it was, which was at great odds with his size and age. She couldn't understand why he'd been ordered to watch her, thinking that someone of lesser stature, such as Ansel, the squire, would have been better suited for the placid duty.

Her curiosity increased, until she finally decided to question him. "Have you done something to displease your lord?"

Anthony didn't seem to understand her question.

"When the soldiers return from their work, I can see the envious way you watch them, Anthony. You'd like to be training with them instead of walking with me in circles."

"'Tis no trouble," Anthony protested.

"Still, I don't understand why you've been given this duty unless you've displeased Duncan some way."

"I've an injury needing to heal a bit more." Anthony explained. His voice was hesitant, and Madelyne noticed the blush that slowly crept up from his neck.

She thought it most odd that he would be embarrassed. Seeking only to put him at ease, she said, "I've also suffered an injury, and not too mild, I can tell you that." It did sound like a boast, but her goal was to make Anthony realize he had nothing to be ashamed of. "Almost did me in, Anthony, but Edmond took care of me. I've a horrid scar now, down the length of my thigh."

Anthony continued to look uncomfortable with their topic. "Don't soldiers think it noble when they're injured in battle?" Madelyne asked.

"They do," Anthony answered. He clasped his hands behind his back and increased his pace.

It suddenly dawned on Madelyne that Anthony might be embarrassed about just where he'd sustained his wound. His arms and legs looked fit enough, and that left only his chest and his…

"We'll not speak of this again," Madelyne blurted out. She felt her face warm. When Anthony immediately slowed his pace, Madelyne knew she was right. The injury was in an inappropriate place.

Though she never questioned Anthony about it, Madelyne thought it curious that the soldiers trained such long hours every day. She supposed that defending their lord was difficult work, considering the fact that their leader had so many enemies. She didn't think she was jumping to conclusions either. Duncan wasn't an easy man to like; he certainly wasn't given to being tactful or diplomatic. Why, he'd probably collected more enemies than friends in William II's court.

She was, unfortunately, given plenty of time to think about Duncan. She wasn't at all accustomed to having so much unstructured time on her hands. When she wasn't outside walking with Anthony, she drove Gerty and Maude to distraction with suggestions for making Duncan 's home more pleasing.

Maude wasn't as guarded as Gerty. She was always eager to set her chores aside and visit with Madelyne. Little Willie, Maude's four-year-old son, proved to be as talkative as his mother once Madelyne was able to coach his thumb out of his mouth.

When the day's sunlight began to fade, however, Madelyne's stomach would tighten up and her head would start pounding. It was little wonder, she told herself, when one considered that the evenings spent with the Wexton family were trials of endurance Odysseus would have turned his back on.

Madelyne wasn't allowed to turn her back though. She had all but gotten down on her knees and begged to take her meals in her room, too, but Duncan wouldn't allow it. Nay, he demanded her attendance at the family meal and then had the gall to remove himself from the disgusting ordeal he forced on her. The baron always ate alone, and made a brief appearance only once the table had been cleared of the clutter the men hadn't already thrown to the floor.

Adela provided the stimulating conversation. While the men hurled bones over their shoulders, Duncan 's sister hurled one obscenity after another at Madelyne.

Madelyne didn't think she could stand the torment much longer. Her smile felt as brittle as dry parchment.

On the seventh evening Madelyne's composure did crack, and with such violent force that those who witnessed it were too astonished to intervene.

Duncan had just given her permission to leave the hall. Madelyne stood up, excused herself, and began to walk toward the entrance.

Her head was pounding, and she thought only to give Adela a wide path. Madelyne wasn't up to another round of screaming. Duncan 's little sister was walking toward her.

Madelyne warily glanced over at Adela and saw little Willie peeking out from the doorway to the kitchens. The little boy smiled at Madelyne and she immediately stopped to speak to him.

The child responded to Madelyne's smile. He darted out in front of Adela just as the sister swept her hand out in one of the grand gestures she always made when she was about to start in abusing Madelyne again. The back of Adela's hand struck Willie's cheek. The little one toppled to the ground.

Willie started to wail, Gilard shouted, and Madelyne let out an ear-piercing scream. The sound of rage she made stunned everyone in the hall, even Adela who actually backed up a step, the first real retreat she'd ever made from Madelyne.

Gilard started to stand. Duncan grabbed hold of his arm. The youngest brother was about to argue over the restraint, but the look in Duncan 's eyes stopped him.

Madelyne rushed over to the little boy, soothed him with a soft word and a tender kiss on the top of his head, and then bade him to go to his mother. Maude, upon hearing her son's wails, had appeared in the doorway, with Gerty at her side.

Madelyne turned to confront Adela then. She might have been able to control her anger if Duncan 's sister had shown any sign of remorse. Adela, however, didn't look the least bit sorry for her conduct. And when she muttered that the boy was a nuisance, Madelyne let go of her control.