Mauger clenched and unclenched his fists as if contemplating using them on Benedict. He brought himself under control, and making a sound of pure disgust, turned on his heel and stormed off. Benedict stared at his retreating back, and then at Julitta, seeking an answer.

'I asked him to buy the mare and foal, but he turned stubborn on me and refused. We had a furious argument right in front of the horse-trader. Mauger thought he had won.' She said all of this in a neutral voice, but then her eyes began to sparkle and her mouth to curve. 'I could not believe it when I saw them on leading reins!' She approached the mare and foal, her hand outstretched. 'Perhaps prayers are answered after all.' She threw Benedict a dazzling smile.

He caught his breath at her beauty. She was so spontaneous, so different to Gisele who carefully weighed every action, each word and gesture, tempering them all to what was correct. 'Not Mauger's,' he said with an answering grin. It felt strange to smile. There had been little humour in his life these past few months. Sometimes he thought there would be more joy in becoming a monk.

Arlette appeared at his side and greeted him with a cool peck on each cheek. 'Welcome, son,' she said formally. 'Will you come inside?'

Benedict returned her stilted embrace. He and Arlette were never going to be more than tepid with each other. She resented the rights he had over her daughter, rights that enabled him to take Gisele far away from Brize if he so desired, and for his part, Benedict resented the hold Arlette had over Gisele, that made of his young wife nothing but a pretty, hollow shell without a mind of her own.

'In a moment, Mother,' he said. 'I want to see the mare and foal safely bedded down first.'

'I'll come with you,' Julitta ventured quickly, gambling that Arlette would not refuse. Usually she would have done, but with Gisele home at Brize after an absence of five months, Julitta was certain that mother and daughter would want to talk in private without the constraint of other ears.

Arlette gave her a hard look, obviously torn between her desire to be alone with Gisele and the inadvisability of letting Julitta out of her sight. The former won, but only just. 'Do not be too long,' she said sternly and waggled a smooth, white forefinger to emphasise the point.

'No, Madame,' Julitta said meekly, barely able to conceal her fierce delight.

Benedict watched the small, golden-dappled foal curl up on the straw of the stall and immediately fall asleep. Her mother dozed too, replete with the feed of oats she had been given.

'She's a little beauty,' Benedict said, admiring his purchase.

'I could have killed Mauger.' Julitta watched the foal too. 'I sometimes wonder how he finds his face to shave!'

Benedict laughed, but felt forced to speak up in Mauger's defence. 'Anyone can make a mistake. And it doesn't do a man's pride any good to admit to a girl of fifteen that she is right and he is wrong.'

'Well he didn't do much for my resolution to be of a sweeter nature in the future,' Julitta answered ruefully.

'You? Sweet natured?' Benedict snorted as if he thought such a notion preposterous, and Julitta swiped at him.

'I suppose,' she said wistfully, 'that you'll take her back to Ulverton when you return?'

'You don't think I'm leaving her here with Mauger, do you?'

Silently she shook her head and looked longingly at the foal.

Benedict pursed his lips, considering. 'I tell you what,' he said, 'I'll keep her for you at Ulverton. When your father returns, I'll tell him that the horse is yours. He'll understand when he sees young Freya here.'

'Freya?'

'One of your father's Norse Gods, or should I say Goddesses.' He smiled.

'And you are saying she is mine?' Julitta's eyes began to shine.

Benedict nodded. 'I bought her for Ulverton, but if not for Mauger's foolishness, she would have been yours first.'

Julitta gave a small, joyous cry and flung herself into his arms. 'Ben, thank you!' she cried, hugging him enthusiastically. He hugged her in return. His nostrils were filled with the scent of her, his hands with the feel of her soft, supple body, and his breathing quickened. For an instant his grip tightened as if to hold her, but then he changed direction and pushed her gently away.

A groom entered the stables and Benedict released her completely. 'As I say,' he repeated, clearing his throat, 'I'll tell your father about the arrangement.' He drew a deep breath, and as the dangerous moment receded, his tone lightened and his manner became more natural. 'Besides, I have advanced the prestige of Ulverton tremendously this winter season. Your father cannot help but be delighted.' A note of pride entered his voice.

Julitta watched him, fascinated by every movement, every facet: the shine of light on his heavy black hair and the planes of his face, the cadence of his voice, his lips shaping the words. The place between her legs, the place that Arlette said was forbidden and sinful to think about, was leaden with heat. 'What have you done?' she heard herself prompt.

Benedict moved towards the door and the safety of the open bailey. 'The King's sons came to Ulverton to look at our horses. Robert and Rufus and Henry on my threshold, I could not believe it. Their father has always come to yours for his mounts, but this is the first time that his sons have shown an interest of their own. They wanted to see your father, but of course he is in Paris, so they had to deal with me. Actually, I think it sat better with them to talk to a younger man than with one of their father's years. They bought several animals and promised to return in the summer — and I think they will. Robert was particularly interested in my desire to import Iberian horses for breeding. He is a great believer in their qualities.'

Julitta followed him into the bailey, her eyes upon his spine, his rangy body. Sometimes she thought she would go mad cooped up at Brize and made to live the life of a gently bred Norman young lady. She was none of these things. Her blood was fierce and nomad, and just now, provoked by Benedict, it was fizzing in her veins.

'I know Robert of Normandy,' she remarked. 'He's handsome and very generous.'

Benedict turned and looked at her with surprise. 'You know Robert of Normandy?' he repeated.

Julitta smiled at the look on his face. She enjoyed being the centre of attention and she had certainly grabbed Benedict's. 'Oh not well, although he spoke to me kindly, and to my mother too. He used to visit Dame Agatha's bathhouse when he was in London — he had taken a great fancy to Merielle, one of the girls there. He gave me a silver penny to buy ribbons for my hair, and chucked me beneath the chin. I thought he was nice, but I also thought that he had no more depth than a puddle in sunshine.'

Benedict shook his head in bemusement. She did not belong here, he thought. She was like a caged animal. 'Robert is always surrounded by beautiful women,' he said. 'Already he has one son to his name.'

Julitta put her hands behind her back and gently swayed her body. 'If I had stayed at the bathhouse, who knows, I might have become his mistress too,' she said provocatively.

Benedict muttered something beneath his breath which she did not ask to have repeated, but the heat at her core pulsed gently in response. 'I wonder what he would think if he could see me now,' she murmured. 'I do not think he would remember me… but sometimes I think I would go with him if he asked.' She glanced at Benedict for his reaction, but his expression was carefully controlled.

'You are fortunate,' he said dryly, adding what at first seemed like a non sequitur, 'his brother Rufus prefers men.'

'Why am I for… ?' She broke off, unable to continue. It would probably be tactless to ask him if Rufus had made advances when he came with his brothers to look at Ulverton's bloodstock. It was not given to every young woman to know about the preferences some men had for other men, but her upbringing had shown her facets of life that would have horrified Arlette and Gisele. King William's own son, the heir to the throne. 'Oh,' she said.

Benedict smiled without humour. 'Gisele could not understand his interest, but I see that you do.'

'Did you yield to him?'

The smile became a short laugh. 'I spent my time with Robert – and you know all about his particular lusts. I took them to a place I know on the Winchester road, where they cater to all tastes. Gisele thinks that we went to a monastery to discuss an endowment. In a way we did. The place is commonly known as "The Convent".' Benedict's expression changed, becoming a trifle perplexed. 'I feel I can tell you anything, Julitta, and you won't leap to condemn me. It's like having a confessor and not having to do the penance. If I told Gisele any of this, she would run to the nearest priest in horror and go down on her knees for my soul.'

Julitta gazed across the bailey. Mauger was approaching them, leading two mares by halter ropes. 'Who else is there to shield Gisele from life but her mother and God?' she murmured. 'I have neither.'

She and Benedict had to step aside to let Mauger pass. His features were set in a heavy scowl but nothing was said, making his hostility all the more tangible.

In the darkness, half-asleep, Benedict rolled over and threw his arm across Gisele's sleeping form. She was wearing her linen undershift, and had covered her hair with a net cap, signalling that tonight, like so many other nights, her body was out of bounds. He sighed and nuzzled his lips into her soft nape anyway. Her breast was beneath his fingers, the curve of her buttocks a cushion to the growing pressure in his loins.