Leonie quickly masked her surprise, but Amelia couldn't manage to conceal hers. She had expected Leonie to be comely, now that her bruises would have healed. Why would Rolfe have brought her back unless he found her to his liking? But this radiant girl with her finely molded aristocratic features and opalescent skin was far too beautiful. What man would want a mistress when he had this for a wife?

Amelia panicked. Her lie about the baby had convinced Rolfe, and she'd planned that, in a month or two, when Leonie was gone again, she could say she had lost the child. All would then be as it had been before.

Butthiswife would not be gone in so short a time. Why, this woman might never be sent away again. And with her there, Amelia couldn't say she'd lost the child, for she would find herself packing immediately. Her only chance now was to get herself pregnant, quickly. But what if Rolfe couldn't be tempted now? Faugh, anyone with dark looks like Rolfe's would do; Sir Evarard, or even that beautiful boy knight, what was his name? It didn't matter who fathered the child. Once pregnant, she could stall for time, even convince Rolfe to support her and "his" child indefinitely.

"Lady Leonie, I must confess I did not recognize you."

"There has been much of that happening of late," Leonie said smoothly.

Amelia was delighted. Good. The wife did not like it that the mistress was still in residence. With a little help, she would like it even less.

"I must apologize for not greeting you when you arrived yesterday," Amelia improvised quickly, "but I had so much to do, settling my belongings. Rolfe gave me very little warning, and I had to move everything quickly. But you must have had the same inconvenience."

Leonie was astounded by the woman. To brazenly tell her that she had only just moved out of Rolfe's room, that she had continued to share that room after Rolfe's wedding! And of course all the servants knew. If that were not enough, the woman was insinuating that she would not be leaving Crewel keep even though Leonie was in residence. Coldness settled over Leonie.

"Will you still live here?" Leonie demanded.

"But, my lady, where else would I live?" Amelia said innocently. "I am Rolfe's ward—"

"I know what you are."

"Oh." Amelia shrugged. "I tried to tell Rolfe you might object, but he insisted there was nothing to object to. It might be best if you . . . didn't mention to him that you know of our, well, do you understand? Rolfe doesn't like jealousies."

"Jealousies!" Leonie choked.

"Have you seen Rolfe's temper? It is terrible to behold." Amelia's shudder was real enough. "I try to stay out of his way when he's in a rage. You will, too. But that is neither here nor there. No, I know you won't be jealous. Did you not tell me you didn't want Rolfe?"

"And did you not tell me he wouldn't trouble me?" Leonie countered.

Amelia sighed. "Now you see how changeable he is. But take heart, he will doubtless change his mind again."

Leonie refused the bait. "Tell me, who sees to this household?"

"Rolfe had put me in charge, but it is a task I would give up gladly."

"Would?"

Amelia lowered her eyes. "I told Rolfe I would be glad of your help, but, ah, he told me not to bother you about it. He said he did not want you making things like Pershwick. He did not like the way you ran Pershwick. He must still be angry over—"

"Do you know where my husband is right now?" Leonie cut her off.

"Of course. He always tells me where he is going. He was called to the stable. Some fool put his war-horse next to your palfrey and—"

Leonie turned her back on Amelia before she finished and stepped out into the bailey. There she stood for a moment, letting the warm sun wash over her and tried to pretend that the whole conversation had not happened. She might as well have tried to pretend she was not here.

Chapter 17

IT was a lazy day, sun kissing velvet flowers, a chorus of birds singing. A glorious summer day of warm fragrant breezes.

Leonie waited in the bailey after leaving Amelia, hidden, until she saw her husband return to the hall. Once he was gone, she stopped by the stable and saw for herself that her gentle mare had not been harmed by Rolfe's horse. Relieved, she walked along the path until she came to the woods. She lingered there, hoping to find solitude in the forest.

She found solitude, but it was not welcome. She wept, which led to disgust with herself. She decided to go on to the village, needing the distraction, but that proved equally upsetting, for while she had forgotten the mischief her people had caused there, the Crewel serfs had not forgotten. The women spared her only a shy word or two, and the men shied away. She did not stay.

By midafternoon she was back inside the walls of Crewel Keep, but she still could not bear seeing her husband yet. She located the kitchen garden, seeking further distraction. The garden amazed her, the vegetables and herbs so overgrown with weeds they couldn't be seen.

It was bad enough that Crewel was filthy, but a garden was a source of food. A garden gave spices that made moldy dishes at the end of winter palatable. A garden gave herbs that healed and comforted. It was intolerable to find the garden in this condition.

"You are being searched for, my lady."

Leonie whirled around at the sound of the tiny voice. A girl seven or eight years old was kneeling on the ground pulling up weeds. At least someonewas making an effort.

"What is your name, child?"

"Idelle."

Leonie smiled encouragingly, for she could see the little girl was nervous. "You should have help with all this weeding."

"Oh, no, my lady. Cook would not like it if I couldn't manage this task alone. I am only to pick a few greens for the salad."

"Greens? And did cook tell you which greens to pick?"

The young face crumbled. "I asked him, but—but he said any greens.

Have I done wrong? I did not mean to do wrong, my lady."

Leonie said gently, "No, you did as you were told. How long have you helped in the kitchens, Idelle?"

"Not long. I was learning to weave, but Lady Amelia doesn't like children within the keep, so my sister sent me to the kitchens."

"Then someone should have shown you what to pick and what to throw away in this overgrown mess. What you have there I call 'good-for-nothings.' "

Idelle grinned. "Truly?"

"Truly." Leonie smiled back. "Now let me see." She bent down and parted a heavy clump of foliage. "Ah! Thereissomething edible here, after all. These will do for a salad." And she began filling the girl's basket with as many dandelion leaves as she could find.

"Once again I find you in a garden."

Leonie's hands froze. Even her breathing stopped.

"I told you they were looking for you," Idelle whispered.

Leonie tried to smile and failed. "So you did. Go back to the kitchen, Idelle. The cook will have to make do with what you have."

They both rose at the same time, Idelle to move quickly past the awe-inspiring lord of Kempston, and Leonie to face him.

Once again she was struck by the handsomeness of the man, and for a fleeting moment all else was forgotten as she looked him over slowly.

From the thickly muscled legs in fine hose to the brown tunic shot with gold thread, everything he wore emphasized the power of his body.

Meeting those velvety brown eyes brought back Amelia's words. She decided she would not demean herself by asking him questions about Amelia, or about his bringing her there. His wanting to start anew, as he'd said, was obviously a lie. And more lies would only confuse her.

Also, she did not want him thinking she was upset over Amelia.

"You call this a garden, my lord?" That was a safe enough subject.

Rolfe spared the briefest look around before his gaze returned to the lovely vision before him. "What would I know of gardens?"

"You saw mine at Pershwick."

"Did I?" He moved closer, grinning. "No, little flower, I saw only you."

She felt a fluttering in her belly and her face flushed hot as fire. This would not do, this complexity of emotions he was able to stir in her. She had to stop his effect on her.

"Do you call me ' little flower' to remind me of how you might have shamed me before my people?"

Rolfe's spirits sank. She was angry. Her eyes shone like polished silver, her dark brows were slashed together, and her lips were set in a hard line. Once again, her anger caused his own to rise.

"Damn me, I thought that was settled!"

Leonie flinched, but she didn't move. Virile strength exuded from the powerful body so close to her, but she held her ground.

"I merely questioned your motive in reminding me of the incident."

Rolfe frowned. How cleverly she made him feel like a cloddish bore for attacking her. Dealing with this particular woman was not going to be easy.

He smoothed the tight line of her lips. "Do you realize the effect you have on me, dearling?" he asked gently. "I see you and my thoughts fly away. If I reminded you of something unpleasant, it was unintentional and I apologize."

Leonie was stunned. Could she believe him? Was he toying with her, trying only to placate her? If so, he was succeeding, and her anger was quickly giving way to nervousness.

She lowered her eyes, utterly confused and helpless. "You—you sought me out, my lord. Was there something you wanted of me?"

He chuckled softly, wickedly, and she drew back.