“Why are you grouchy this morning?” Kes asked when conversations started up again.
“What is grouchy?” he practically growled at her.
“Bad-tempered.”
“I am not any different today than I am every day.”
“Oh, great.” She tossed him a fake smile.
“Am I going to have to ask you what your words mean all day?”
“You don’t have to ask anything,” she countered coolly. “In fact, you don’t have to speak to me at all.”
“Who are you?” Reg asked, looking like he may fall to his knees before her at any moment.
“I am—”
“She is my guest,” the earl said through his teeth.
“Kestrel Locksley,” she told him.
“Miss or Mrs.?” Reg asked. He wasn’t a handsome man. He squinted and had a sharp nose. His fingernails were clean and there didn’t look to be a callus on either hand.
“Reg,” Nicholas warned.
“Miss,” Kes answered at the same time.
“Her distant aunt was the Duchess of Glastonbury,” Elia told them.
Nicholas’ brow rose on Kes. “You did not mention that.”
“Neither one of us mentioned our relatives,” she pointed out, staring right back at him.
“Now you understand why,” he answered, shifting his gaze to Reg.
Kes thought the earl a bit of a bully. Reg obviously could never fight him. He was scrawny. Poor man.
“Where are you from?” Reg asked her, ignoring the earl’s barb.
“Damn you, Reg—”
Kes turned to the earl with an incredulous glare. “Are you kidding me right now?”
The earl aimed his angry, curious scowl on her. “What?”
“I can answer for myself.” She turned back to Reg. “I think I’m from Bridlington, but I am having trouble remembering many things. We think I was hit on the head.”
“Hit on the head?” Reg asked, aghast. “By whom?”
She shook her head.
His small eyes opened wider. “You do not know?” He turned to the earl. “You brought a woman into the castle who could be a Lancaster! Why, she could be here to kill us all. My wife and—”
“I assure you—” she tried.
“Reg.” His voice was low, deep, like the waves outside, covering hers. “This is my castle.” The sound of him made her heart tremble. “You seem to forget that, Cousin. Don’t question me about who I bring in. If you don’t like it, take your wife, your children and your maid and leave.
“As far as her being a Lancaster, those kinds of words could get her killed. If I ever hear them come from you again, I’ll beat you senseless every day for the next seven days. Do you understand?”
“Aye,” Reg said, surrendering without a fight.
A Lancaster. A Lancaster! He hated the name. They all did. Was she here for a reason as he said? Did it have something to do with her being a Lancaster? Was she supposed to confess her identity to him within the next few weeks? Few weeks. Forget it. Send her home right now because—
“Miss Locksley, I will see you out of the hall.” He didn’t wait for her response but rose from his chair and stood over hers.
She didn’t know what to do. Go with him or stay here with Reg. At least Elia was—
“Miss Locksley!” he commanded.
She threw her napkin on the table and stood up. She had to keep reminding herself that he was a fifteenth century oaf and if she went too far, he could throw her out. Or worse. Did the castle have a dungeon?
She bent to pick up her skirts and dress, but Elia beat her to it. “Go now, Miss. I will take care of this.”
“Woman, if you make me call to you one more time—”
Kes straightened and two more pins fell from her hair. “What?” she challenged with her hands on her hips. “What will you do?” She didn’t care if threw her out. There had to be a villager around somewhere who would take her in until she could find her way home or flung herself over the cliffs.
“Are you ready now?” he asked, controlling the tone of his voice.
“I seem to be,” she said, smoothing her kirtle with her palms.
When he offered her his arm, she looked into his eyes for a moment before she accepted it. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she found something different from what the men possessed at home.
Whatever was going on with him made his breath stop and his eyes shine from within.
Was it because of her, as Elia suspected?
What did she think if it was?
Chapter Six
“Miss Locksley?”
“Yes?”
They left the great hall and stopped outside the doors. She was dangerous, with her hair springing down her temples, Nicholas thought while his heart still pounded from the challenges she threw at him inside. In front of Reg.
Damnation, nothing had been so thrilling off the field in a long while now. She was dangerous and delightful, facing the beast head on, boldly and courageously. She said she was a distant relative of the Duchess of Glastonbury. He would send word to Glastonbury by the king’s couriers and ask if there was a record of Kestrel Locksley in their books. Even if she did descend from nobles in Glastonbury, it didn’t mean she was a Red. Glastonbury was one of the towns in Somerset that did not stand on either side.
“I’m heading to the stable. I have things to see to. The castle entrance is there.” He pointed over her shoulder. “I shall see you at supper.”
Did she appear disappointed? He couldn’t tell. She definitely appeared to be fighting some desire. He glanced down at her hands. They were balled into fists. He stepped back.
“My lord,” she called to him as he turned to walk
