"But after we left London and the celebration was over, someone could have mentioned it," Lawrence said.

Royce shook his head. "The king was furious to learn that someone had actually breached his home. He took it as a personal insult, and he didn't want the news to spread. No, word didn't get out, Lawrence. There's something else, too," he added with a scowl. "When Nicholaa's older brother came here, I questioned him about the activities of the resisters in London. Thurston didn't know what I was talking about. I believed then and I believe now that it was an honest reaction on his part. He was too surprised. Damn it, my opinion is that Morgan and Henry sent that messenger to Nicholaa."

Lawrence nodded. "That is my opinion, too," he admitted. "Did they act on their own or did Guy have a hand in this?"

"It doesn't matter." Royce's voice turned as hard and as cold as ice. "He's responsible for his vassals' actions."

"Of course," Lawrence agreed. "Still, I'd like to know if he had a part in this treachery. I'm curious to know how far his malice extends."

"We won't have long to wait. In just a few weeks we'll have our answer."

"And then we retaliate." Lawrence hadn't asked a question but simply stated a fact. He'd served his baron long enough to understand how his mind worked.

"You'll have to take care of Morgan and Henry," Royce said.

"With pleasure, Baron."

"Damn, I wish I could fight the two of them."

Lawrence understood his baron's frustration. The king would never allow a baron to fight another baron's vassals in games of strength. It would be beneath his station. It was therefore up to Lawrence to right the treachery. And, Lord, how he was looking forward to the opportunity.

"There's still Baron Guy," Lawrence said, reminding Royce he wouldn't be completely left out.

"Yes," Royce replied. "That bastard's all mine."

The following weeks of preparation proved to be a torment for Nicholaa, and an enlightenment, too.

The torment came first. Nicholaa had to pretend to be happy whenever she ran into Justin or one of his friends. She also had to pretend she wasn't worried and didn't doubt her husband's judgment when she was with him.

There was a price to be paid for her feigned happiness. By keeping all her fears hidden, she made herself sick. Each morning when she opened her eyes, she was so sick to her stomach she could barely get out of bed.

The nausea would dissipate after an hour or two. She thought it was because once she was wide awake, she was able to push her fears away. She couldn't soothe her nerves when she was sleeping, however. She was vulnerable then.

And then enlightenment came. It took her a good week to catch on. She noticed how tender her breasts were. She noticed other changes, too. She suddenly couldn't stand the smell of quail. She couldn't stand to watch anyone eat the disgustingly greasy meat, either. She was sleeping longer, and more often than not she was sneaking in an afternoon nap when everyone else was too busy to notice.

She was going to have Royce's baby. Nicholaa was so filled with joy over the wonderful miracle that she got teary-eyed every time she thought about it.

When she wasn't occupied worrying about Justin, she was thinking about the perfect way to tell her husband he was going to be a father. She knew he was going to be surprised. He'd been so busy with his duties, she didn't think he'd noticed any changes in her behavior.

Royce worked with the younger soldiers from dawn until dinner. The two hours a day he'd promised to give the Doves had turned into nine.

Royce was clearly worn out by the time dinner was finished, yet he still took time to sit her down and lecture her. She thought it was probably the only enjoyment he gained during the day.

The topic of his lectures was always the same. He talked about her safety at the games. Night after night he made her promise him she'd take every care, that she wouldn't go anywhere without a proper escort, that she wouldn't take any unnecessary risks, such as even acknowledging Morgan or Henry.

Nicholaa couldn't remember the rest of his list of orders because she was usually daydreaming by then.

Royce made it quite clear he would rather leave her behind, but her feelings weren't hurt. She was certain he still hadn't recovered from the incident when the woman got into their chamber in London.

He didn't want her in Baron Guy's company, either. Royce would surely have left her home if the king and his wife hadn't requested that she attend.

She decided not to tell him about the baby just yet. It would give him a good excuse to leave her behind and simply tell his overlord that her delicate condition didn't allow her to travel.

Nicholaa would take every precaution to ensure the baby's safety, of course. She wasn't going to let her husband set a breakneck pace. She wasn't going to become overly tired, either.

On a bright sunny Monday morning they left for the fields near London where the games were going to take place. Nicholaa got up an hour earlier than necessary so she could recover from her morning sickness before Royce awakened.

Justin rode with the other young soldiers toward the rear of the procession. Every now and then she heard her brother's laughter. A terrible thought-that it was the laughter of an innocent riding toward destruction-would immediately pop into her mind. She'd shake her head, tell herself she trusted Royce's judgment, and then force herself to think of happier thoughts. Then Justin would laugh again, and the cycle would be repeated.

It was exhausting, this mental game she played. After they stopped to eat their nooning meal, she was so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes open. She asked Royce if she could ride with him. He thought she was finally going to confide her worries to him, but after she'd settled herself on his lap and wrapped her arms around his waist, she went to sleep. It wasn't a short rest, either; she slept the entire afternoon away. Royce guessed the fear she'd been so desperately trying to hide from him had worn her out.

He didn't worry that she was having difficulty maintaining her faith in him. Nicholaa was trying, and that was all that mattered.

They made camp several hours later in a narrow meadow surrounded by forest. A clear knee-deep stream ran along one side of the clearing.

Royce had to wake Nicholaa up before he could dismount. A wave of nausea washed over her as soon as she was helped to the ground. She was able to catch the gag in the back of her throat. Then she begged for a few minutes of privacy. Royce noticed how pale she looked. She took off running toward the cluster of trees. Royce frowned with concern as he watched her leave.

He turned his attention to the care of his mount. He removed the saddle, tossed it to his squire, and then ordered that his horse be allowed to cool down before being given water and oats.

Ten minutes passed, and still his wife hadn't returned. Royce went after her. He heard the sound of retching when he reached the trees. Justin came up to speak to him and also heard the noise.

"Your sister's ill," Royce said.

"Shouldn't we go to her?" Justin asked, his concern obvious.

Royce shook his head. "Give her a few more minutes of privacy. If she doesn't come back then, I'll go to her."

The two men stood side by side, waiting. Several more minutes passed in silence.

"Was it something she ate, do you suppose?" Justin asked. The sound of retching had stopped, but Nicholaa still hadn't walked back to the clearing.

"No," Royce answered. "She's made herself ill worrying, Justin."

"What is she worrying about?"

"You."

Justin didn't know what to say to that.

Nicholaa came toward them then. She frowned when she saw the two of them standing there, then went to kneel by the stream. She rinsed her mouth with the cool water, then patted water on her face.

"Nicholaa?" Justin called out. "Have you really made yourself sick worrying about me?"

She turned around to look up at her brother. "No," she answered. "I'm sick for quite another reason."

Justin looked relieved. He pulled her to her feet.

"I am worried about you, though," she told him. "Justin, please understand. I'm your older sister, and I'll always try to protect you." She turned to Royce. "If you were going to compete in these games, I'd be worried about you, too. If that means I lack faith in either of you, my only defense is that I love you both."

"Then it was something you ate that made you sick?" Royce asked.

Nicholaa gave him a roundabout answer. "I'm feeling fine now."

Royce didn't look convinced. He seemed preoccupied during dinner, and when they'd finished, he went to the stream. She followed him.

He was bent on worrying about her now, and Nicholaa didn't think a lecture would ease his mind. A spontaneous action might, though.

Her husband was kneeling beside the stream. He'd taken his tunic off and was splashing water over his neck and chest. Nicholaa walked up behind him and used the flat of her foot against his solid backside to give him a quick shove.

He didn't budge. He did turn around, though, and give her a most incredulous look.

She laughed and then tried to push him into the water again.

He thought she'd lost her mind. "I'm being spontaneous," she announced as she lunged for him a second time. "But you aren't cooperating."

He still didn't fall into the water. Nicholaa backed up, thinking to try again, but Royce suddenly stood up. He deliberately glanced over his shoulder at the water, then looked at her and grinned.