"For the sake of her holdings?"

"Aye. The Isle of Desire is a plump bird, ripe for the plucking. It needs protection. She writes that there have been problems already with her neighbor; Nicholas of Seabern, as well as with a band of brigands who are harassing her shipments of goods to London."

"So she is in need of a husband who can defend her manor and you, sir, wish to be certain that Desire continues to be profitable for you."

"Aye. The isle itself is not large. The lands produce a certain amount of wool and the crops are reliable. But that is not the true source of the manor's wealth." Thurston picked up a small, delicately embroidered bag that lay on a nearby table. "This is what provides the income from Desire." He tossed the small bag to Gareth.

Gareth caught the little sack easily. The scent of flowers and herbs wafted from it. He held the bag to his nose and inhaled the lush, rich, strikingly complex fragrance. It was a heady aroma that elicited a strangely sensual hunger somewhere inside him. He took another sniff.

"Perfumes?"

"Aye. Tis an isle of flowers and herbs. And the products it sends to market are perfumes and creams of every description."

Gareth looked at the fragrant little bag in his hand. "So I am to become a gardener?"

Thurston smiled. "It will be something of a change for the Hellhound of Wyckmere."

"Aye, that it will. I have little knowledge of gardening, but I expect that I shall soon learn whatever is necessary."

"You have always been quick in that regard, no matter what the subject."

Gareth ignored the comment. "So the lady of Desire is willing to wed a man to protect her vast flower garden. And I want lands of my own. It would seem that she and I can strike a fair bargain."

"Mayhap."

Gareth narrowed his eyes. "Is there some doubt?"

The smile that had been hovering around Thurston's mouth turned into a brief, laughing grin. "I fear there is some competition for the position."

"What competition?"

"Nicholas of Seabern, Clare's nearest neighbor, is also one of my vassals. He's had his eye on Desire for some time. In fact, he is the chief reason why I suspect that the lady is no longer a virgin."

"He seduced her?"

"From what I can gather, my sources tell me Nicholas virtually kidnapped her last month and held her at Seabern Keep for some four days."

"And then tried to force her to accept him as a husband?"

"Aye. The lady, however, has refused."

Gareth raised an eyebrow at that news. He was not surprised at the tale.

Kidnapping unwed heiresses was a common enough sport. But he was startled to learn that the lady had not been immediately wed after the incident. Few women would have had the temerity to refuse marriage after having lost their virginity and their reputation to an encroaching lord. "A most unusual female."

"Aye. It seems Lady Clare has some very particular requirements regarding the man who will be her lord." Thurston grinned again. "She has sent me a recipe for a husband, in fact. She wishes to select one who meets her exacting specifications, you see."

"Hell's teeth. A recipe?" Gareth muttered. "What nonsense is this? I knew there was something you were keeping from me."

"She has written her requirements out in great detail. Here, see for yourself." Thurston picked up a folded sheet of parchment that was lying on a nearby table. He handed it to Gareth.

Gareth glanced at the broken seal and saw that it was in the shape of a rose.

He read swiftly through the greeting and opening paragraph of the beautifully scripted letter. He slowed down when he reached the portion which detailed the lady's requirements in a husband.

I have given your wishes and the needs of my people much thought, my lord. I regretfully accept the necessity of a marriage. To that end, I have considered die matter with extreme care. Desire is a very remote place, as you well know. I know of no eligible men in the vicinity except my neighbor, Sir Nicholas, who is unacceptable.

I therefore respectfully request that you send me a selection of at least three or four suitors. I shall choose a husband from among them. To assist you in the task of selecting the candidates for the position, I have prepared a recipe which specifies the qualifications I require.

You, my lord, obviously have an interest in these lands. I understand that you wish them to be protected, as do I. From your point of view, therefore, the future lord of Desire must be a trustworthy knight who can command a small but effective company of fighting men. I will remind you that he must bring such a company with him, as there are no trained men-at-arms here on the isle.

In addition to that obvious requirement, which I know that you will see to, I have three more requirements of my own. I wish to specify them in great detail so that you will have no trouble comprehending them.

First, as regards his physical qualities, the future lord of Desire must be a man of moderate proportions and stature. It has been my observation that extremely large men prefer to rely on brute strength to achieve their ends rather than upon their wits and learning. I do not care for men who try to overwhelm one with their physical prowess. Therefore, please keep size in mind when you make your selections for me.

Second, my future lord must be a man of cheerful countenance and well-mannered, pleasing disposition. I am certain you will understand when I tell you that I have no wish to be bound to a man who is melancholic or given to fits of temper and foul moods. I wish my husband to have the gift of laughter, a man who will be able to take pleasure in the humble forms of entertainment which we enjoy here on the isle.

Third, it is absolutely essential that my husband be a learned man, one who is capable of reading and who enjoys intellectual discourse. I will wish to engage in much conversation with him, especially during.the cold winter months when we shall both be obliged to spend a great deal of time together indoors.

I trust my three requirements are quite plain and that my recipe is clear. There should be no problem in selecting several candidates from among your acquaintances.

Please send these suitors to me at your earliest convenience. I will make my choice as quickly as possible and inform you of my decision.

Written at the manor of Desire, the seventh of April.

Gareth refolded the letter, aware of the unholy amusement in his father's eyes. "I wonder how she set about creating her recipe for a perfect lord and husband."

Thurston chuckled. "I suspect she took the basic elements from some minstrel's romantic ballad. You know the sort. They generally feature a chivalrous hero who slays evil magicians for sport and vows undying love to his lady."

"A lady who usually belongs to another man," Gareth muttered. "The hero's liege lord, for example.

Aye, I know the sort of song you mean. I do not care for such, myself."

"The ladies love them."

Gareth shrugged. "How many candidates will you send, my lord?"

"I am a great believer in indulging females up to a point. I shall allow Lady Clare to make her choice from between two suitors."

Gareth's brow rose. "Not three or four?"

"Nay. In my experience one only asks for trouble when one grants a woman too many choices."

"Two suitors, then. Myself and one other."

"Aye."

"Who shall I be competing against?"

Thurston grinned. "Sir Nicholas of Seabern. Good luck to you, son. The lady's requirements are simple, are they not? Her recipe specifies a man who is of moderate size, much given to laughter, and able to read."

Gareth handed the letter back to his father. "She is fortunate, is she not? I meet one of her requirements. I can read."

1

Clare was in the convent gardens with Margaret, the Prioress of Saint Hermione, when word reached her that the first of the suitors was on the Isle of Desire.

"A grand company of men has arrived, Lady Clare. They are coming toward the village even now," William called.

Clare paused in the middle of a detailed discussion of the best method for extracting oil of roses. "I beg your pardon, madam," she said to Prioress Margaret.

"Of course." Margaret was a stoutly built woman of middle years. The wimple of her black Benedictine habit framed sharp eyes and gently rounded features. "This is an important event."

Clare turned to see young William hopping about in great excitement near the convent gatehouse. He waved his bag of gingered currants at her.

A plump, brown-haired, dark-eyed lad of ten, he was a good-natured combination of lively curiosity and unquenchable enthusiasm. He and his mother, Lady Joanna, had come to live on the Isle of Desire three years earlier. Clare was very fond of both of them. As her own family had dwindled down to nothing, leaving her alone in the world, she had grown very close to William and Joanna.

"Who is here, William?" Clare braced herself for the answer. Every inhabitant on Desire, with the exception of herself, had been eagerly anticipating this day for weeks. She was the only one who was not looking forward to the selection of a new lord for Desire.

At least she was to have a choice of husbands, she reminded herself.

That was more than many women in her position got.

"Tis the first of the suitors you said Lord Thurston would send."

William stuffed a handful of gingered currants into his mouth. "They say he appears to be a most powerful knight, Lady Clare. He brings a fine, great host of men-at-arms. I heard John Blacksmith say that it took half the boats in Seabern to get all the men and horses and baggage from the mainland to our island."