Richard was full. Supper filled his belly, the wine was plentiful, and his hall was clean, the rushes sweet.

“There are no chickens wandering about.”

“You are an arse, Richard.” Garrick scowled. “Why is your hall clean?” He rocked back in his chair. “Because Mistress Chloe made it so.”

He was an arse. “One of the lads saw her going to the stables.”

Garrick snorted. “I hope she filched one of your best horses.”

“Don’t be daft. You know she cannot ride well enough on her own.”

Edwin passed by scowling at Richard. The bloody woman had bewitched everyone in his home. And he had been a fool.

Richard hunched his shoulders. “She will be warm in the stables. In the morn, I will bring her back.” He saw the scorn on Garrick’s face. “What? If I go now, she will try and slit my throat. The woman has a fearsome temper.”

“Who does she remind you of?” Garrick said. “Damned whoreson.”

Alone in his solar and deep in his cups, Richard comforted himself that he had done the right thing. He was lord of Bainford, had earned the title, the castle. Paid for it with the loss of an eye and the ever-present aches in his body. So why did he feel as if he was beneath contempt?

“Mistress Chloe will make some man a fine wife.” Garrick drained his goblet of wine and poured them both another.

Hrumph. Richard would not think on her with another. The thought made him want to rend the lucky main in twain.

“She is hiding something. ’Tis good to know what she truly thinks of me.” Richard didn’t know if her secrets were those every woman kept or something else. He had not wanted to pry. We all have our secrets.

“Do you think she will go to Falconburg?” Garrick stared into his cup. “’Tis going to snow again. She’ll be cold.”

“Aye. She is always cold. Said she came from a village where ’tis always warm.”

Richard had thought she would stay in her chamber and then he would fetch her for supper and tell her he was sorry for bellowing. That he had been in pain and taken it out on her. For the first time since he’d found her, she’d done what he had asked and left him. He missed the bothersome wench more than he knew, and she had not been gone a full day.

Garrick tapped his booted foot. “It would take her nigh on a month to travel to Falconburg if she is not killed or defiled or gets lost on the way. She is a woman traveling alone and not familiar with our lands.”

Richard gritted his teeth. “Think you I don’t know?” He frowned. “The men did not find her in the stables?”

Garrick shook his head, looking as miserable as Richard felt.

“Did the men search the chapel?”

“Aye. She was not there.”

He shifted in the chair to ease the pain in his leg. She had taken her belongings and her odd clothes with her and would not return. Chloe was gone for good because he was a sorry bastard.

Garrick wiped his eyes, a look of agony upon his visage.

“What is it, man?” Richard said.

“You did not think to inquire as to why she turned out the servants.”

“Nay. Why?” Richard gazed at Garrick. “Tell me.”

“The servants she sent away…were those who… They called you beast, crossed themselves when you passed by, spread tales in the village.”

Richard was stunned. “Why did she not tell me?”

Garrick snorted. “You were too busy bellowing at her to listen. She was angry they would talk of you so, said she would not allow them to spread such lies about a good man.”

“She did this for me?” Damn the wench. He thought he was going to weep like a babe. ’Twas the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. His fierce woman was protecting his damnable pride.

Richard slammed his hands on the table. “Take the men and the lads good at tracking rabbits. Find the wench.”

“’Tis too late to go this night. The horses may break a leg in the dark. ’Twill have to wait until the morn,” Garrick said softly.

This was a tragedy of immense proportions, and all of Richard’s making. If something happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

“She is alone. The woman will freeze.” He had been a dolt. When he found her, he’d drop to his knees and beg for a forgiveness he did not deserve nor expect her to grant. He would tell her she could dismiss any at Bainford if she would but come home.

For three days they searched. The snow fell, growing deeper and deeper, making it nigh on impossible to track her. Where had the woman gone? ’Twas as if she had disappeared to go live with the faeries. Not that Richard believed in such things.

On the fourth day, they came upon the remains of an old hut. The blasted witless woman had gone the wrong way. She had traveled south for several miles instead of north and west.

“Mistress,” Garrick called as they dismounted. Richard was stiff from riding, limping to the open doorway. It was small and dark inside, like the chapel when he was hurt.

Black spots appeared in front of him. Nay. Richard shook his head. To find Chloe, to bring her home safe, he would crawl through all the rubble again.

“Chloe,” he said softly. “’Tis Richard. Are you there, lass?”

She appeared out of the darkness, her hair sticking out in all directions, brandishing a stick, a reproachful look on her lovely face.

When she saw ’twas him, she threw the stick to the side. Richard hauled her into his arms. Saints, he wanted to keep her always. She had terrified him worse than any battle.

“I was so scared. I heard noises. It’s been days.” Then she pulled away and pushed him, scowling. “I hate you.”

“Aye. I am an arse. Let me in so I may beg forgiveness.” He pulled her into the hut, breathing hard. ’Twas dim, but she had a fire going, and the holes in the roof and walls eased his discomfort enough that the spots and the feeling he would be ill did not return.

She saw him looking at the blaze. “I took a fire pot. It’s been hard to keep it going—with no door and holes in the walls and roof, it hasn’t helped much. I’m freezing. And something moved over there.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Why did you send me away?”

“’Tis no excuse. I was in terrible pain and behaved like an arse. We have searched for you for three days. They have been the longest days of my life.”

“I’ve been too scared to keep going.” She was shivering.

He pulled her onto his lap in front of the paltry fire and held her close. “Nay, say no more. Let me warm you. This is one thing I can do without causing you pain.”

Together they stayed close to the fire, not speaking. He did not have the words to tell her what she meant, what the thought of losing her had done to him.

He blew out a breath. “Have I told you how I lost my eye?”

She looked up at him, tears on her eyelashes. “Saving the king.”

“Aye. I was fighting in Scotland.” He touched the scars around his eye. “We were taking the wounded off the field when I saw the archer.” He tapped his hand against his leg, thinking on the battle. Suddenly, his hand was warm and still. Chloe had taken his hand in her tiny palm and held it close.

“I yelled and pulled my sire to the ground. He was unharmed. I took the arrow in my eye. All hell broke loose. As I was guiding the king to safety, soldiers ambushed us. I fought badly. ’Twas hard to see out of one eye, and my balance was off.”

“But you saved him again?” She was breathless.

“Aye. The last two soldiers and I battled. I ran one through. The man fell atop me, and the last one went for the king. Somehow I rolled away and cut the man’s legs from under him. My sire was safe. The Scot and I rolled down the hill, and I landed in the fire. ’Twas Garrick who pulled me free, but the damage was complete.”

He touched the old scars on his face, remembering the agony.

“The king awarded me Bainford and a minor title.” He did not know why he told her, only that he did not want any secrets between them. He had seen what secrets could do. How they had torn Garrick apart from the woman he thought he loved, until she betrayed him. How his father betrayed his mother.

“’Twas a great honor from my sire.” He pulled his cloak around her. And, unable to resist, he twisted her curls around his fingers, over and over.

“A healer did her best, but the pain was more than I could bear. When I was no longer screaming and could move about, my sire sent me home. My leg was badly injured, as was my arm. They did not heal properly, and pain me constantly.” He sounded bitter but could not help it. “I was no longer able to fight, was no longer needed.”

“A lady my grandmother knows walks stiff like you when she gets up from a chair.”

“Aye. I am in pain always. Some days my head and eye ache so, I am sick with the pain.”

“That’s why you were in such a bad mood.”

He chuckled. “I have been in a foul temper since I lost my eye, bellowing and stomping about—until you appeared in front of me. You have much improved my temper, brought light into the darkness. I am truly sorry for what I said. ’Twas in anger and I did not mean them. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes. I forgive you. I said things I didn’t mean either. Will you forgive me too?”

“I already have. Truly, I am sorry.”

“I should not have fired your servants. It’s just I couldn’t bear for them to say such ugly things about you. To cross themselves like idiots.”

“Aye. Garrick told me you were most fearsome.” Chloe had been angry for him, had done what she did for him, not against him. Saints, he had found the only woman in the realm who cared naught for his ugliness.

Richard blinked to clear the sight in his good eye. “There is one other thing you should know.”

“Tell me.” She sounded sleepy in his arms.

He swallowed. “’Tis why I was so angry. The thought of losing Bainford. Of not being the lord. I am a bastard. I would never have risen to lord.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “There’s something you should know about me. I am also a bastard. Though in my land we call it illegitimate, or born on the wrong side of the blanket. It sounds nicer.”

Chloe was like him? Richard needs think on what she had told him. There was much he wished to ask her, but she yawned, almost asleep. His questions would keep until the morn. “’Tis dark out. We will sleep here this night.”

She snuggled into him and fell asleep with a sigh. Careful not to wake her, he kissed her on the forehead, content for the first time in his miserable life.