It was Erneis who had told him that Leonie's people were harassing the Black Wolf. How Alain had loved Leonie for that! It was also Erneis who told him that she was being forced to marry d'Ambert. At first, Alain was enraged. But then he decided it was a good thing, for Leonie would so hate being forced that she would hate her husband as much as Alain did. She would make a good widow. She would marry Alain, and with her support, Alain would petition the king for a pardon. The plan would work, all of it, for what man, even the king, could resist Leonie's sweet charms, or her sweet body, if it came to that?

Alain watched the woods like a starving hawk. This time, she had to come. It was not easy getting messages to her, for the villagers were content under their new lord. There was only one man willing to deliver his messages to Leonie. The other men remembered Alain's heavy hand too well and were likely to report his presence to d'Ambert. Alain vowed he would remember that once he was master of Crewel again.

Leonie had not responded to his first two notes, but it was doubtless difficult for her to come to him alone as he'd requested. Well, d'Ambert was away from Crewel, so Alain waited eagerly to see her . . . eagerly and very anxiously. The men were very restless and bad-tempered. It was getting harder and harder to convince them that they would possess greater wealth if they would only be patient a little longer.

A large ransom would solve one of Alain's problems, and keep the men pliable for a while. Should he tell Leonie that he intended to ransom her? If she agreed to come away with him peacefully it would make his life easier. After all, he didn't have to tell her everything. He might tell her only part of his plan.

The sound of horses coming from the wrong direction threw Alain into a panic, but then he saw her. She was leaving the woods with her escort, but coming from Pershwick. Her men-at-arms were her own, wearing Pershwick colors.

Leonie had left immediately for Pershwick when Alain's third message came. Once there she dismissed her escort, telling them she would use a guard from Pershwick to bring her back to Crewel, as she planned to stay the night at Pershwick. She wanted none of Rolfe's men to be able to tell him she had met a man in a field. But she wanted no more notes from Alain, either, and the only way to stop them was to talk to him.

It was impossible to leave Pershwick alone, for Sir Guibert insisted she take at least six men, and he could not be talked out of it. But they were her men, and when she told them to wait for her at the edge of the woods, no one argued.

Within plain sight of her guard, she rode slowly toward Alain. Her heart beat harder as she approached the man she hadn't seen in half a year. It seemed even longer than that, for she had been through so much and seen more of the world in that time than in all the rest of her life. And Alain, how had he fared since leaving? She supposed his presence in the region meant one of two things. Either he was no longer running, had perhaps reason to believe he might be given a royal pardon, or else he was so desperate that he felt in no more danger there near his old home than he did anywhere else. Poor Alain.

When they'd last met, a cold winter sun had lit his blond hair to gold and turned his cheeks ruddy pink, making him look younger than twenty. As she neared him, she was dismayed to see how haggard he looked. There was a deep weariness in his features, and his eyes glinted with a cunning that made her wary.

"Alain." Leonie kept her greeting reserved as he lifted her down from her horse. "I thought you meant to remain in Ireland."

He smiled bitterly. "I did. But when I arrived there, I found my kin were staunch supporters of Henry's. Not one was willing to incur his displeasure by harboring me. They assisted me in leaving as soon as I arrived."

"I am sorry," Leonie said sympathetically, but she needed to come to the point. "You never did tell me what you were accused of, Alain, and I have heard things—"

"Lies," he said quickly. He smiled warmly. "It is so good to see you, Leonie. Is all well with you? You do not seem to have fared badly with the Black Wolf."

She answered stiffly, "He does not mistreat me, Alain. But I will not talk of him. Why have you come here?"

He appeared crestfallen. "Can't you guess? When I heard of your marriage, I grieved for you. I thought you would welcome my help."

"Thank you, Alain, but I do not need help," she said as courteously as she could.

"You arehappywith him?"

She looked away sadly. "I cannot say I am happy, but nothing can change my circumstance."

"You could come away with me, Leonie."

Leonie turned toward him again, startled. She had thought of fleeing, but until Rolfe was willing to let her go, he would be sure to track her down. What she needed was sanctuary, and Alain could hardly give her that.

"Where is it you plan to go, Alain?"

The question was simple curiosity, but he interpreted it to mean acceptance.

"You will not regret your decision, Leonie." He smiled, wrapping her in his arms. "I swear I will make you happy!"

"Alain!" She gasped, trying to push him away. "I am married."

He held her tightly. "A mistake that will soon be corrected."

Leonie grew very still. "What do you mean?"

"Your husband risks his life daily," Alain answered carefully. "Even now he wars with my vassals."

"Your father's vassals."

"The same thing," he said curtly. "Such a man, a man of war, will die—and soon."

Sudden understanding made her feel sick. Alain's first message had come not long after Rolfe's injury. Alain might have been there. He might have been the one who unleashed the arrow.

"Alain," she began carefully, "you—misunderstood—"

"Quiet!" he hissed, his body tensing. She followed his gaze toward Crewel, horrified to see her husband break through the woods, alone.

"Keep your men out of this, Leonie," Alain said excitedly. "My own men will take him easily."

"What?"

She could see no other men in or near the clearing. But when Alain let out a shrill whistle, she knew Rolfe was in danger.

"Alain! You must not attack Rolfe!"

"Hush, Leonie," Alain said confidently. "This will be easy." He called across the clearing, "Stay where you are, d'Ambert. You have lost what is yours."

Rolfe had already seen the lovers standing close together, embracing.

This was the truth he had dreaded. He had returned to Crewel to tell Leonie the truth about her father, only to find that she had gone to Pershwick. Then he found a message from Alain Montigny left carelessly on the writing table. A search produced another note from Montigny.

Two notes were enough to declare her guilt, and what was before him was the damning confirmation.

"Let her go, Montigny!"

"She is leaving with me," Alain taunted.

Leonie gasped, outraged. But then everything began happening so fast that she had no time to deny Alain's claim.

Her own men had mounted and were riding toward them. Much closer, Alain's men came bursting through the trees. All seven of Alain's men charged Rolfe, who drew his sword like lightning. His battle cry resounded in the clearing, bringing some of the attackers up short so that only four of them actually met Rolfe head-on.

Leonie screamed for her men to hurry, but no one realized she meant for them to help Rolfe. Alain, confident of his plan, believed she meant for her men to attack Rolfe.

"Never fear," Alain assured her, relishing his triumph, "he is strong, but he is outnumbered."

"Fool!" Leonie cried, and Alain's smile vanished. "I would kill you before I would let you kill him!"

"You will thank me . . ."

He went silent as his men turned and fled back into the woods—five of them, while two lay dead in the meadow. When he saw why, Alain gripped Leonie's wrist and pulled her toward their horses. Rolfe had not come alone after all, but had only raced ahead of his men in his haste to reach Leonie. Two knights and a half dozen men-at-arms were with Rolfe now. And Leonie's own men had joined their lady.

Rolfe did not move, but faced Alain from yards away. "If you go with him, Leonie, I will hunt him down and kill him."

Alain let go of her instantly. "He wants you so badly, he can have you," he told her fearfully. He mounted his horse, glancing at Rolfe to see if the larger man would stop him.

"He believes the worst," she told Alain. "You must tell him . . . Alain!

Come back!" He rode into the forest in the direction his men had taken.

Leonie called his name once more, but Alain did not even look back.

She swung around to face her husband. His eyes were black with fury, his expression cruel as he slowly walked his horse toward her.

"My lady, do we fight your husband?"

She had barely noticed her men gathering around her. What could she tell them? What must this look like to them? She did not want to be left alone with Rolfe, but of course there was no question of a battle.

"Answer them, madame," Rolfe ordered.

"My lord, you must let me explain," she began.

"Answer them!"

She took a deep breath. "My lord, you must tell them you mean me no harm."

"I will tell them only that no one keeps me from my wife. I will kill anyone who tries. If they wish to die, then they may fight me."

She faced her guard. "Return to Pershwick. I go with my husband willingly."

"But, my lady," the youngest man said uneasily, casting a glance toward Rolfe. "Sir Guibert will kill us if—if anything happens to you."