“Who the hell ordered the servants to keep everyone out? You know better than most, Ranulf, the dangers of a hungry mob.”

“What the..." Ranulf barked behind her. "Where's the meat? The butter?"Bronwyn smiled. It was going to be a hard few days for everyone at Hunswick,suddenly observing Advent, but it might inspire the new residents to not just enjoy the fruits of everyone's labor,but appreciate and contribute.Turning around,Bronwyn pasted on what she hoped to be an incredulous look and said, "During Advent Fast?Now,my lord, you wouldn't want others to think you a heathen."Ranulf picked up the mug,sniffed the tea with disdain,and put it back down before flopping into one of the hearth chairs. "I know a hell of a lot more about the topic than you.And I could care less about the opinion of others.""I doubt that," Bronwyn murmured, just loud enough for him to hear, "on either point."Ranulf leaned forward and grabbed the plate of fish and potatoes. He took several bites and waved his fork around the platter. "The Church calls for their followers to celebrate the season of Advent the four weeks before Christmas, which is nonsense because I know of no one who rejoices in the idea of starvation and...abstinence."Bronwyn's heartbeat suddenly doubled its pace and she had to fight to remain looking relaxed and unaffected. "I believe humility is a large purpose behind the fast.""And control," Ranulf replied with a grunt. "If I kept such an absurd custom, I and my men would have starved many a year.”

“So you did see me.""Studying your hard-earned prize from afar? Yes, I knew.I make it a point to know where my enemies are," Ranulf replied, keeping his focus on the afternoon horizon.Detachment, not animosity,laced his tone.”

“There are worse things in life than having a few scars,something you should have discovered long ago,my lord.And until you started using them as an excuse, I never thought you to be a half-wit.But I am glad that you have clarified that point,for you're right.Such a man is unappealing." Feining confidence and joyal expectation, she swiveled toward Tyr. "I will join you tomorrow morning in the bailey in front of the stables."Both men stared,unable to stop themselves, as she sauntered out of the Hall and through the door that led up to her chambers.Tyr watched the rhythm of Ranulf's pulse in the bulging veins along his neck. If Bronwyn were a man,she would right now be fighting for her life. There were probably only three people in the world who could provoke Ranulf and live to see another day.Him, Ranulf's commander and friend Garik who had stayed behind in Normandy-and now that woman.”

“Pasting on her most endearing smile, Bronwyn stood up and interrupted, "I must beg everyone's pardon for retiring early. I have been needing to speak with my husband all day. So, we will see you in the morning." She then looked down at Ranulf to ensure he understood that she was serious.He arched a single brow, but said nothing as he rose to join her, ignoring the short coughs and snorts of laughter of his men. Bronwyn instantly froze as she realized what the small group-including her husband-believed she had meant. Mustering up the remnants of her pride,she forced herself to march on."It's nice to know you've been wanting me all day, but if you desire for us to be alone, there are more discreet ways of letting me know," Ranulf teased as he lifted the flap of their tent.Bronwyn knew her already red face was turning an even more brilliant color, but she refused to let Ranulf believe he had totally won. "You,husband, are far more in need of a modesty lesson than I."Ranulf let go the heavy material and then crossed his arms with a smug look of satisfaction Bronwyn wanted to both remove and indulge. "Don't believe in modesty.Never have.Kind of liking the fact that you don't either," he said, hinting at what he thought was about to come next.Bronwyn took a step back and waved a finger. "I said I wanted to speak with you alone...about tomorrow.”

“Asking Ranulf what the hell was going on and just what possessed him to pick a fight with a woman he was obviously attracted to would be a waste of breath. His friend was too busy trying to convince himself that he dispised her. It was an absured goal. Until Ranulf realized that it wasn't anger he was feeling,the man would remain frustrated and become more and more unbearable.”

“The conversation was dangerous for it was designed to incite physical violence and, if left to continue, might have succeeded. But the pain Ranulf first wanted to inflict was humiliation, and that could not be achieved with fists.It required intellect.And maybe a slight emotional push.”