Geoffrey reached his tent and found Elizabeth fast asleep. He stared at her a long minute, appreciating the curve of her thigh and leg, and then quickly stripped out of his clothes. An occasional hiccup told him that she had cried after he left. Dealing with tears was difficult for him, and feeling guilty or not, he was thankful he was spared the ordeal. The fact that he was the cause of her distress held no import. He would end her torment soon, he vowed as he stretched out beside her.

No sooner had his head touched the pallet than his wife, sensing in her sleep that Geoffrey was near, rolled over into his ready embrace. She was tangled in her cape and Geoffrey pulled the garment clear, using his body as her blanket and warmth. He heard her sigh as she snuggled into his chest and smiled into the darkness. "In sleep you need me, wife," he whispered. And then he sighed, with contentment.

The battle was quickly done. Rupert was slain, by Roger's hand. Geoffrey was sorry for it, wishing it had been his blade that ended the traitor's life instead of his vassal's. He ordered the body stripped and saw the half-healed injury on Rupert's shoulder.

Elizabeth had slept through the commotion of the men leaving the camp. By the time she had awakened and dressed, Geoffrey and his men were already returning.

It was Roger who gave her the news of her brother-in-law's death. Elizabeth accepted the information without expression. She only nodded that she had heard and then prepared herself for her journey home. Never once did she glance about for her husband, though she knew that he was safe, listening to his booming voice, which was as huge as his body this morning as he ordered his men into haste.

Elizabeth continued to ignore him while she waited for her mare to be saddled. When Gerald had finished with the task, he helped her into the saddle and she told him thank you, the first words she had spoken all morning. No sooner had she reached for the reins than Geoffrey rode up beside her. He plucked her from her mount as effortlessly as he would a berry from a tree, and settled her in front of him on his stallion. "You ride with me," he stated in his arrogant tone. Then the shield was up, protecting her from the branches, and they were galloping through the woods.

Elizabeth tried to hold herself rigid so that she could touch him as little as possible, but after ten minutes her back protested. She gave up her discomfort and leaned back against her husband, ignoring the soft chuckle she heard. Not another word was spoken on the long ride back to Montwright. It was just as well, Elizabeth decided, as she used the time to sort her feelings out. There were decisions to be made, but as she went over and over the discussion of the previous evening, she found herself growing more and more confused.

She certainly had made a mess of things, she admitted, but her heart had been in the right place, hadn't it? Her motives, once she gave up her need for revenge, were innocent in gain.

You are a stubborn and unbending man, Elizabeth thought. Well, I will give you what you wish, she decided. I will become the kind of wife you seem to want.

It would take discipline on her part, but she was up to the challenge. No longer would she try to imitate her dear departed mother, no longer would she try to share a marriage such as her parents had. She would learn to be docile and unargumentative, for those two qualities seemed to be high on her husband's list of duties. God help her, she would even learn how to sew, though she had no patience for the task. She would give him all he asked, but not an ounce more. He does not need love or joy to make his life complete, so I will benefit him with neither. Elizabeth felt good and spiteful for a time and then realized how foolish she was behaving. How could she ever make her husband realize the happiness he was missing? By denying him what he has come to accept and enjoy, she countered. Do not show him the affection and joy of the past. He will soon miss the laughter shared, wouldn't he? Elizabeth frowned as she considered all the possibilities. What did she have to lose in her new quest? she asked herself. She never had his love to begin with, did she?

Discipline and duty! His favorite lecture, she thought with a grimace. He would have me as obedient as a lap dog, eagerly awaiting a word of kindness or approval when his mood deigned it, just like a bone thrown to an anxious and hungry dog. Well, you shall have both discipline and duty, husband, and rue the day you made those demands. I can be as unbending as you are. It is time you learned a lesson, I think. Time indeed!

Elizabeth felt better with her new resolutions. She refused to address the issue of her disloyalty, knowing in her heart that she would start to cry again if she did. What she treasured most in others she now found tarnished within herself. And if she cried, Geoffrey would start to yell again, she admitted, and she frankly was not up to the ordeal this day.

She was not foolish enough to think that Geoffrey would quickly forgive her, but in time perhaps he would soften in his attitude. Until then she would try to give him what he most wished, and pray each and every day that he would see the errors of his ways. Perhaps she could help him with his realizations. Too much discipline and too much concern for duty… surely he would tire of it.

Why do I bother? she asked herself. He is a most stubborn man. The answer was quick and honest. Whether she called him stubborn or unlovable, her heart belonged to him. Until death do us part, she thought, repeating the vow she had made to her husband. The question was, who would kill whom first?

Her thoughts returned to the present when the gates of Montwright opened wide for the troops. Elizabeth spotted Elslow standing with his hands on his hips, Thomas at his side. The look on her grandfather's face showed relief and expected anger. She should have left word for him, some sign of her intent, she thought, so that he would not have worried so. Of course, she argued with herself, had she left word, Elslow would have followed her.

Geoffrey slid off the stallion and lifted Elizabeth to the ground. "You have caused your grandfather needless concern. Go and make your apology," he said in a controlled voice.

Elizabeth nodded and turned to walk toward her grandfather. When she was a scant foot from him, she lifted her head and said, "I apologize for the worry I have caused you, Grandfather, and beg your forgiveness." She lowered her gaze then and waited for his response.

Elslow was so relieved when he sighted his granddaughter safe and sound in her husband's arms. But like a parent who has lost his child at the village fair and then found him again, the urge to both hug and smack tugged at him. "You have taken to bathing in the mud?" he asked instead, gaining time to calm his emotions.

Elizabeth quickly brushed the dirt from her bliaut before returning her gaze to her grandfather. Elslow was quick to see the sadness there, and he suddenly realized she hadn't returned safe after all. There was injury there, hidden inside, where it could do the most damage. And he would soon know who was the cause of such pain.

"Come and give this old man your embrace," Elslow requested in a soft, coaching voice. "There is time for explanations later." He decided against questioning her at the present.

Elizabeth lifted her skirt and ran into his arms. "Can you forgive me, Grandfather?" she asked, squeezing him to her.

"Of course I forgive you," Elslow replied, patting the top of her head. "Go inside now and find clean clothing. Then you must see to your stubborn dogs. They have not touched food or water since you disappeared. Did I not know better, I would guess they were as worried about you as I was."

Elizabeth sighed and started toward the castle. Thomas grabbed hold of her hand and Elizabeth stopped to smile down at her little brother. It was all the encouragement he needed and he immediately launched into a gleeful interpretation of his grandfather's reaction to her disappearance. Elizabeth ignored him until he asked her if Geoffrey had beaten her. "He did not! Why would you think such a thing?" she asked, pulling him along with her.