“You will… in time.”

She turned back to the table and began to trace in the border. Ignore him. He is not here. The work is the only thing of importance. He is not here.

He was there. Silent. Tense. Compelling.

She could not bear it.

The border was blurring before her eyes.

“For God’s sake stop weeping,” he said harshly. “I won’t have it!”

Tears were running down her cheeks. “It’s the smoke from the candles.” She wiped her eyes on the back of her hands. “And you have nothing to say about it.” She dipped her pen in the inkwell again. “If you don’t like it, go away.”

“I don’t like it.” He was suddenly kneeling before her on the floor. He took the pen from her hand and jammed it into the inkwell. “And I won’t go away, and I won’t have you-” He pulled her from the chair, to kneel in front of him. He shook her. “Stop it!”

The tears wouldn’t stop; they were only coming faster. “Do you think I wish to-” She broke off as a sob choked her. “I hate this place! It’s huge and it’s dark and there are too many people.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” He jerked her into his arms, his hand cupping the back of her head as he held her face against his shoulder.

“Let me go.”

“Be quiet.”

“I want to leave here. They… they curtsy to me.”

“A terrible sin. I shall have it stopped at once.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

His voice was hoarse. “Believe me, I see nothing at all funny about this.”

She discovered she was clinging to him as Alex did to her when he woke from a bad dream. She tried to push him away, but his arms tightened around her. “Stop fighting me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yes, you will. You want to hurt me like those men hurt Mama.”

“It would be nothing like that. You’d like it. I promise you’d like it.” He stroked her hair for a moment before adding resignedly, “Or rather, you would have liked it.”

“I wouldn’t have liked it. You make me feel… strange and hot… and…”

“Shh, it’s better if we don’t discuss how I make you feel at the moment.” He took a lace-trimmed handkerchief from his sleeve and dabbed at her cheeks. “And absolutely imperative that we don’t discuss how I feel.”

She drew a deep, shaky breath and pushed away from him. “I will not do… what you… that.”

“No, you won’t.” He handed her the handkerchief. “Blow your nose.”

She looked at the fine linen square and shook her head.

“Do it,” he ordered. “By God, I’ll at least have my way in this.”

She blew her nose and immediately felt much better.

He rose to his feet and lifted her back onto her chair. “Work for another hour and no more.” He turned toward the door. “And sleep late tomorrow.”

He was leaving, she realized in astonishment. “I never sleep late.”

“You will tomorrow.” He glanced back to her. “Or I’ll carry you back to your bed.”

“I wouldn’t let you do-” She stopped as she met his gaze.

“Don’t,” he said softly. “Gregor says it’s necessary I walk a fine line, but I’m not sure it’s possible if you’re not equally cautious. It will take time and restraint.” He opened the door, and the draft caused the candles to flicker. “We have the former, but Gregor will tell you how lacking I am in the latter.”

Nothing could look less restrained than Jordan at the moment. His muscles were tensed, and his eyes glittered recklessly in the candlelight. “Where… where are you going?”

“I’m going to pay a visit to a lady of my acquaintance. Would you like me to tell you what we’re going to do?”

She knew what he was going to do. She could almost visualize him lying in bed, his hair loosened from his queue, his eyes intent as he- “No!”

“I wouldn’t have done so anyway. It would have been a shocking breach in conduct for a guardian.” He swung the door shut. “Good night, Marianna.”

Gregor was leaning against the stone wall beside the stable doors when Jordan rode out into the courtyard.

“I don’t want to hear a word from you,” Jordan said shortly.

Gregor ignored the injunction. “She wasn’t ready.”

“No.” He looked straight ahead. “She wept, goddammit.”

“Ah, you’ve never made a woman weep before.”

“It made me feel- I hated it.” He glowered at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’d taught her to say exactly the right words to bring about the result you wished.”

“I did not have to do that. She had only to be herself. Where are you going?”

“Do you need to ask?”

He kicked the stallion and galloped out the gates.

Gregor gave a sigh of relief as he looked up at the tower. “It was very close, little dove,” he murmured. In all the years he had been with Jordan, he had never seen him in such a passion for a woman. Jordan had learned to control his unruly nature in many areas, but he was still Ana’s son, and the forbidden had always glowed like a beacon for both of them.

Well, Jordan himself had made the decision to avoid this particular forbidden fruit, so it might be possible that Marianna was safe from him.

He could only wait and see.

Ah, you’re down early,” Gregor said as Marianna came down the stairs. “That is good.”

“It is?” Nothing could have kept her from disobeying Jordan’s command to sleep late today. Only minutes after he had left the tower room, she had been overcome by shame and anger at the disgusting weakness she had shown. “Not that early. I’m usually up before first light.”

“What a terrible habit. I myself prefer to sleep late when I get the chance.”

“Then why are you up?” she asked with assumed casualness, “and where is Jordan?”

“He is not here.” He paused as if debating whether to elaborate. “He went to visit Madam Carruthers. She is an old friend.”

He had spent the night in that woman’s bed and was still with her. Something hot and hurtful twisted inside Marianna. It was not anger, she told herself. There was no reason for her to be angry.

Gregor took her hand and led her toward the dining room. “I’m sure he will return shortly.”

Perhaps it was anger, but only for the sake of that poor woman whom Jordan was using to vent his lust.

She would think no more about him. “Why are you up?” she repeated.

“I wished to make sure you were comfortable.”

Warmth flooded her at his kindness. “As comfortable as I could be in this place.”

“I was uncomfortable here, too, when I first came.” Gregor seated her at the long table and then sat down beside her. “There is nothing this grand in Kazan. We live very simply there.” He sighed. “How I miss it.”

“Why did you come here?”

“To take care of Jordan.”

“He hired you to act as guard?”

“No, I was not hired. I just came.” He saw her curious expression and shook his head. “I told you I could not tell you about Kazan. All I can say is that Jordan is part of all of us in Kazan. We do not like to see a part of us rot and become less than it could be. That is why I came to care for him.”

She looked down at her plate. “He seems quite able to care for himself.”

He laughed. “Ah, he did then too. He was only a boy of nineteen but as cynical as a man of thirty. It wasn’t surprising when everyone treated him as if the world and everything in it had been created for his enjoyment. I’ve never seen a lad so spoiled.” He grimaced. “Or so hot-tempered. We had many a match before we came to terms.”

“His terms or your terms?”

“Why, my terms,” he said, surprised. “It could be no other way. He had to be taught discipline, or he would have remained impossible.”

He was still impossible. “It must have been very unpleasant for you. I wonder that you stayed.”

“It was not all bad. Jordan can coax the birds to fly to him when he wishes.”

“And it made up for the bad times?”

He nodded. “When he was himself and not what they made him, he was a boy to warm the heart.” He nodded at the cup in front of her. “I don’t wish you to eat breakfast this morning, but you must have nourishment. Drink. It is chocolate.”

“Chocolate?” She reached for the cup. “I’ve never had it. Papa said it’s wonderful.”

“It’s a beverage made in paradise.”

She sipped it tentatively and then more deeply. “I like it.”

“As do I.” He drained his cup and gestured to the servant to refill it. “I have a taste for anything dark and uncommon.”

“Then it’s no wonder you have a fondness for Jordan,” she said dryly. “For he is both.”

“You’re still angry with him? Actually, for Jordan, he is behaving toward you with singular virtue.” He lifted the chocolate to his lips. “But you must help him.”

“I have no intention of helping him in any way. I’m here to work and care for Alex.”

“That will help. The less he sees of you, the better.” He paused. “And, when he does see you, offer no challenge. Be as eager and childlike as Alex.”

“I cannot pretend to be something I’m not.”

“It would be easier for you if you could.” He sighed resignedly as he saw her expression. “Oh, very well, do what you will. I will try to stand between you.”

“Thank you.” She reached out and patted his big hand. “I need no one to protect me, but it is a kind and generous thought.”

“I like you,” he said simply. “And even if I did not, I would still do it. It is my duty. Such a thing would not be good for Jordan either.” He looked down into the depths of his cup. “I was sent not only to protect his body but his soul.”

“I believe you should concentrate on protecting his body,” she said tartly. “I’ve seen no sign of this elusive soul.”

“I have,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen him weep at the death of a child, and I’ve been with him when he carried a wounded man on his back for twenty miles across the steppes. I’ve seen him writhing with an inner hurt so terrible, he did not say a word for days. He does not show his soul, but it is there.” He smiled. “And we must make sure he does not harm it by actions he cannot forgive himself. Finish your chocolate.”