“Ranulf searched for something to distract him from what she was doing. Only one topic came to mind.Their kiss."About this morning.Your memory is faulty."Concentrating,Bronwyn was just about to sever the final stitch. "How so?" she murmured."I believe you kissed me."His nearness coupled with the unexpected reminder of their embrace caused her hand to quiver just as she sliced the last stitch, giving him a small scrape."Ow! You did that on purpose!"Bronwyn jumped back. She was no longer nestled between his legs, but neither was she out of his reach. "I did no such thing. Besides,it is a small sratch, so stop disgracing yourself by acting so cowardly," she scolded, waving the sharp blade around as if it was another appendage."Cowardly?" Ranulf bellowed, as he jerked the knife out of her hand. "You, angel, should be thanking me for being damn near to a saint! You have to be one of the most difficult women I have ever met."Bronwyn's chin popped up angrily, her deep blue eyes flashing. "I'm not difficult. You're the one yelling." She turned, grabbed his tunic, and threw it at him. "I'm done.You can get dressed now.”

“It's too bad,my lord," she purred, "that you are too weak and vulnerable to satisfy me."Ranulf grabbed her wrist and wrenched it from his skin. He pulled her closer so that she stood in between his legs,her face near his. "And just what was it you desired?"Bronwyn licked her lips and Ranulf realized it was not his humiliation she sought,but to salvage some pride of her own. With his free arm,he reached up to pull on the shirt gathered around his neck. "Angel,I am getting up,and if the only thing I have on are my underclothes...so be it.”

“But where are we going?"Glancing back at her,he smiled a wicked smile. "Westminster.""Westminster! Now? What about the Feast of the Circumcision of Our Lord? I'm the First Footer! I can't just leave."Ranulf came back in and gave her a comforting kiss on the forehead before placing a softer one on her lips.Unfortunately, that is one tradition we must break.So pack only what is necessary and don your warmest gown."Bronwyn's heart started pounding as she realized just who Ranulf intended to see and confront. "What are you planning to do to Luc?"But the question was issued to an empty corridor. Ranulf was gone, and the next time she was to see him,they would be riding out of Hunswick at a speed she wouldn't understand for another three days.”

“Shouldn't we get up?"With unexpected strength,he grabbed her waist and rolled her over at the same time, poisitioning her so that she was astride him. "I don't think so."Bronwyn licked her lips. "It is Saint Stephen's Day. The people will be waiting.""For their pots full of money.""So you know the custom," she purred, letting her fingers play with the hairs on his chest."Of course," he groaned. "I ordered the clay pots as soon as we got back after we went hunting.I'll pass them out tonight.""Did you know that you,too,get a present?" Bronwyn asked as she leaned down to kiss his naval, smiling with delight as his stomach contracted.Ranulf grinned back. "Really?And just what is in my clay pot?""Your present doesn't come in a pot," she purred, smiling as her hand slowly moved lower,making a trail for her mouth and tongue to follow. "And even more lucky,you don't have to wait until tonight either.”

“And you pride keeps you from doing anything absurd,I suppose."Ranulf eyed Bronwyn suspiciously. Their banter was the equivalent of foreplay, except he seemed to be the only one suppressing excitement. His angel just sat unperturbed and serene...almost too composed. "It helps.Just as the meat you ate last night.I smelled it on your fingers."Bronwyn felt her teeth grind as she shifted her clenched jaw. "As Advent is only required on three days of the week, I guess I was fortunate that I was able to consume the last of the lamb before Twelfthtide.""Making me unfortunate. But what about the exemption of children,the elderly, and the infirm?"The man was acting smug and causing her to react defensively. Bronwyn leaved over to pour herself some hot cider and then settled back in the hearth chair, slowly sipping the sweet drink. She glanced at him and then licked her lips and asked, "Oh,are you infirm?"Without blinking,Ranulf purred, "It depends."Bronwyn succumed to a shiver and looked away. She was playing with fire and needed to stop. "I suppose we could hunt for some barnacle geese. That should suffice for meat and still make Father Morrell happy.”

“Ranulf stared blankly into the campfire, trying to ignore Lily."White horses always look dirty," Lily told the young smitten soldier sitting beside her. "That's why I refuse to ride them.Brown ones may be just as filthy,but at least I cannot see the dirt. Black ones less so,but I have found that in general dark horses suit me better.""You just think you look better on them," Edythe protested before succumbing to several seconds of coughing. Bronwyn studied her redheaded sister for a moment.Tyr put another blanket around Edythe's shoulders and eventually the coughs quieted. Turning her attention to Ranulf,Bronwyn promised him softly, "You'll have to ignore them."Ranulf grimaced and sent a reproving look to his youngest sister-in-law. It,just like the others he had sent Lily throughout the day,changed nothing. "I just find it hard to reconcile the child I hear now with the woman who appeared after your death. With you gone,she had to grow up.Now that you are back..."Bronwyn snuggled up against his side with a sigh. "I admit I encourage it.Life will force Lily to grow up soon enough and I am glad it was not my death that thrust it upon her. In the meantime,you ignore her prattle and I'll just be amused it," she advised before planting a gentle kiss on his arm.Ranulf,with his free hand, raked his fingers through his short hair. How had he gotten into this predicament? But it took only one look at the huddled form next to him to remember exactly how. Bronwyn. He had wanted to make her happy. After thinking her lost to him forever, he would have promised her anything, even the moon.”