Wishes and Dreams

By Cali Moore

            Robin recalled the King's words often as the siege went on. He said taking Greenwood would be easy, but if he wished to keep it he must deal fairly with its Lady. What had he meant by that? How much trouble could one young woman cause? What manner of woman was she? He was about to find out since she was finally willing to concede her home had been taken and open the gates to him and his men.

            Cecelia didn't know what would happen to her once the castle fell. That was not a surprise. Whether she was blessed or cursed by her abilities, she never knew her own fate. Robin de Leesford was the surprise. He was the only person she'd ever met who could keep his thoughts from her. It was as thrilling as it was disconcerting.

            He was a stubborn man, but then, she was a stubborn woman, and the battle that ensued was one of wills. They'd both given up on wishes and dreams long ago. Such things were impossible. Or were they?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cali Moore
• Release date: Apr 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393028338

Book preview

Chapter One

Robin sank down onto the wet earth and lifted the flagon of ale to his lips. His side ached from the latest wound but not enough to concern him. He was tired, thirsty, filthy and sick of living in the forest. He watched the cloaked figure on the parapets and wondered.

You’re bleeding, Robbie.

Robin scowled at Leland. Think I don’t know that? He snarled.

Want me to take a look?

‘Tis a scratch, nothing more.

A woman’s squeal tore through the night, followed by the deep laughter of one of his men. Rorick de Stanton had expected to take Greenwood easily and brought along his men’s whores. Now they serviced Robin’s men. They cared not who mounted them as long as they were fed and protected.

This had been the oddest damned siege in history, Robin mused.

Young Michael is still feeling bloodlust, Leland commented, settling down beside his liege.

Young Michael would rut his life away if he thought he could get away with it.

Leland’s teeth flashed in his bloodied face. Most men would.

Robin frowned at the visage before him. That yours? Leland was not a young man anymore and Robin was not ready to lose his friendship to the reaper.

Leland wiped his face and regarded the blood on his hands. No. Bastard spurted when I ran him through.

Robin’s eyes drifted to his men who had been given the task of carting away the bodies. It was the seventh force they’d defeated since making camp outside the walls of Greenwood. The attacks were slowing, which meant word was spreading that Greenwood had been claimed and was not as vulnerable as assumed.

His gaze went back to the huge stone fortress. Greenwood may now be considered his by many, but it wasn’t yet. Not until the cloaked figure that walked the parapets each night admitted it and opened the gates to her new lord and master.

What manner of woman was Cecelia de Greenwood?

Besides stubborn.

Milady.

Cecelia turned to her father’s most trusted man. We’ve run out of time, Darvin, she said dejectedly.

He nodded.

Cecelia sighed, her eyes going to the fires dotting the home woods. Another battle had been waged this day. Robin de Leesford had won again, as she knew he would. Seven forces had fallen to his in the past month and a half as greedy men fought over what were, for now, her lands.

Her father and three brothers had all died in the same battle for their king, leaving only her to hold what had been theirs for generations. She’d seen their deaths, but too late to warn them.

The water is fouled, she murmured before Darvin made the pronouncement. She wasn’t surprised. It didn’t take a seer’s curse to know that the number of people and animals within the walls would bring that about soon enough.

And we’re almost out of food, he agreed. Milady...have you...seen anything? Darvin was uncomfortable with his mistress’s ways. Most were. Her father had given up trying to find her a husband. No man wanted a wife who could read his thoughts and know what he was going to say before he did.

She hadn’t. Not really. Oh, she knew Greenwood would fall to Robin de Leesford. She’d known that when he first appeared with his army. He’d rounded up all her tenants and their stock and ushered them to the main gates, retreating while they were granted admittance. A farmer had told her the name of the man laying siege to her home.

He’d then set up camp in the forest and fought all comers who hoped to conquer Greenwood. He’d been swift and efficient about it. The land was not devastated, the forests not burned out. The fighting itself had scared off the animals and destroyed many crops, but all in all, the land was still intact.

It was, she admitted, rather amazing.

Robin de Leesford would rule Greenwood, but beyond that, Cecelia saw nothing that applied to her life. And time had run out. She’d kept the gates closed to him, hoping for something to reveal itself to her, but nothing was forthcoming. She could not allow her people to starve or fall to sickness. She did not believe senseless death was more noble than survival. Robin’s actions indicated responsibility to the land and people he would claim. By not demanding entrance, he’d kept the fighting away from the innocent. Blood flowed, but none had been Greenwood’s.

Nothing of any use, she finally answered. Open the gates.

Darvin blinked. You’re riding out?

No one is riding out, she corrected. Open the gates and let our new lord in.

Milady, he began to argue.

We cannot win, Darvin, she snapped.

Nor can we just surrender! We haven’t even fought!

What are we going to fight with? Peasants? Women? Children?

He swore in frustration. She was right. They didn’t have the men to fight off Leesford. Too many had gone with the old lord and too few had returned. But he was a knight and surrendering unthinkable. I cannot just lay down my sword, milady. I will challenge him.

To what purpose, Darvin? Even if he accepts and you win, someone else will come along. Her eyes again scanned the army camping in her woods. Tis a bloody world and many men are cruel. Robin de Leesford has not allowed the land to be destroyed. That speaks well for him. Greenwood could do worse than a lord who cares about its lands.

You could marry him, he suggested, not really believing such a thing could happen unless it was done swiftly, before Leesford found out about her unsettling abilities.

The thought had crossed her mind. Cecelia was not so different from other women. She did dream of a husband and children. Of course, in her dreams she loved him and he loved her. It was not the way of the world but she couldn’t get her heart to accept that.

The reality was no man wanted a witch for a wife so she might as well fantasize.

Why did she see nothing of Robin de Leesford?

Why did she see so little of anything? Was she losing her sight?

Oh, what a blessing that would be.

Open the gates, Darvin. If you cannot bow to him, you know where the bolt hole is.

His spine stiffened. Your father trusted me to look after you, milady.

I do not need a keeper.

What do you see?

Cecelia stared at him in the light of the torch nearby. You, Darvin. Opening the bloody gates.

His mouth set in a tight line. Is that an order, milady?

Aye. She turned and walked toward the steps. We may not have much to offer, but I will tell Judith they are coming in.

Maybe he’s only here to protect Greenwood.

She paused, but did not turn around. Aye, she said softly. As its lord and master.

Robbie, Leland said slowly. Look. The gates!

Robin took his eyes from the spot where the lady had been and regarded the opening gates. It’s about bloody time, he said, satisfaction coursing through him.

It might be a trap, Leland cautioned.

I want no one hurt unless it’s unavoidable, he reminded him. Tell the men to restrain themselves. He searched through the darkness to find Toby. Succeeding, he strode over to him. Your men will remain outside tonight. I will add guards to the walls once we are within.

Aye, milord, he replied immediately.

He smiled. You can keep the whores. Mayhap that will still some of the grumbling about another night in the forest.

Toby smiled back. Mayhap, milord.

Robin nodded. Leland was gathering the others, some already preparing their horses. He went to his own steed and rubbed its muzzle. Tonight, my loyal friend, you get a roof over your head if I have to bring you into the hall. He mounted easily and moved off to wait for the others to gather behind him. He heard swords leave their scabbards and thought about ordering them back. A trap was doubtful. Greenwood’s army had been seriously depleted in their recent service to the king but his men had fought for this moment and they deserved the comfort of their weapons in their hands.

After all, his whole purpose in taking Greenwood was comfort. His eyes scanned the magnificent castle before him. Greenwood was more than large, its lands were rich and bountiful. Its lords had been strong and cared for what was theirs. Loyal, fierce, and compassionate were the traits associated with the Greenwood masters.

He would continue as they had begun. By blood he may not be the rightful heir, but by royal suggestion and his own sweat and blood, he was now. He spent a few moments pondering the king’s words.

"Taking it will be easy, Robin. It is more vulnerable than it has ever been. Lady Cecelia is no fool. If you wish it to accept you, you will have to deal fairly with her."

I will find her a good husband, your highness. I have no desire to wage war with a woman. They do not fight fairly.

The king chuckled. Especially not this one.

Milord? His brow furrowed. She is a shrew?

You will see, Robin. You will see.

Aye, he thought now. He would see.

Tonight.

Cecelia stood near the gates and watched the men approach, knights mounted, men-at-arms on foot. All but their leader carried weapons. The leader was the one that mattered. Robin de Leesford’s lack of weapon showed clearly that he was taking her gesture as a peaceful surrender.

Cecelia had considered leaving, but she was still responsible for her people even if she was no longer their mistress. A peaceful transition was in everyone’s best interests. She could always leave later. There were two bolt holes in Greenwood. She had no doubt that Robin would find one, he would expect it and ask. He would not expect a second, especially not one that allowed exit through the dungeon.

She allowed a momentary smile for the ancestor who’d added that one. No one would ever look for a bolt hole from the dungeon.

Darvin came to stand beside her, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. No fighting, Darvin.

They’ve drawn their weapons.

Leesford has not and he is the only one who matters.

He grunted.

Robin stopped just outside the gate and regarded the cloaked figure he’d watched from afar for six long weeks.

Bloody bastard wants an invitation, Darvin muttered.

Then he shall have one. Cecelia stepped into the center of the gate, her people behind her, flanking the pathway to the castle’s doors. Milord... She stopped and her hand went to her temple as her face spasmed.

Milady! Robin slid off his horse and started toward her. Bloody hell, was she going to swoon?

Her eyes opened on his and he caught his breath on the sheer beauty of them. He couldn’t discern their color, but they were liquid and he thought of a spring he’d played at as a child, the many trees of the glen dancing in reflection on the water’s surface.

An army, milord. A large one.

Darvin stepped to her side. Banner?

Her eyes narrowed, still on Robin’s but he knew she wasn’t seeing him. A chill leapt up his spine. Not at the thought of more war, but at the feelings radiating from her. Tis Exeter.

Darvin swore.

Exeter? Robin asked. Rowan?

Cecelia re-focused on Robin. A bastard, my lord. Rowan’s get. He goes by Exeter to gall his father. Explanations can wait. They will attack tonight. We have few men, but they are yours to command.

Darvin set aside his bitterness. Exeter would love to get his hands on Cecelia and they wouldn’t be gentle. Aye, milord. He must be defeated. We cannot fight from within.

Thanks to me? Robin asked wryly.

Aye, Cecelia said simply, without accusation. Food is low. The water is fouled. Disease is not far behind.

But not yet here?

I would not allow my people to suffer out of pride, milord.

Robin regarded her for several long seconds. She was an uncommon beauty and it wasn’t only because of her eyes. You are a seer, milady?

In a way.

He nodded slowly. Do you see the outcome?

You will win, but not without cost. Exeter will escape.

We will attempt to prove you wrong on the latter, milady. Robin turned to Darvin. Will you swear fealty to me?

Aye, milord, He said grudgingly, casting a glance to the young mistress he was sworn to protect, For milady’s sake. He went down on one knee to do just that. At least he would begin as he meant to go along. He was a warrior and would show himself as such immediately.

Gather your men and meet us, Robin ordered, not bothering to chastise the qualification he could choose to view as defiance.

Aye, milord.

Robin faced Cecelia and bowed. By your leave, milady?

The formality was just politeness. There was no mockery in it, but they both knew who now ruled Greenwood.

By my leave, milord, she replied just as steadily.

They were ready when Exeter’s men came into view. For a bastard, he had amassed a huge following. They were cruel men with little to lose, thus fought viciously and without regard for any life, even their own.

Cecelia again watched from the parapets. She saw more with her mind’s eye than her naked one. She saw Exeter defeat man after man, some left without life, others seriously wounded. She saw Darvin and the rest of her men. Faces she didn’t know.

She saw nothing of Robin de Leesford.

Wondering what that meant, she left the wall to oversee the preparations for dealing with the wounded that were to come. Linen was torn, her healers mixed their noxious potions. Anything and everything that could hold water was loaded onto wagons. As soon as it was safe, they would go to the river and bring back clean water.

No one grumbled about Robin de Leesford now. Any lord would be better than Exeter and they all knew it. His timely attack had done more to solidify Robin’s right as their lord than any words she might have said.

Once she was sure they would be ready for the aftermath of battle, she went back to the wall to watch. The sun was beginning to reveal itself and she could see that less than half the men that had begun the battle were still standing. And they were visibly tired.

It wouldn’t be much longer.

Milady.

Cecelia didn’t turn to the woman who’d spoken. All is ready?

Aye.

They stood in companionable silence until Cecelia read the older woman’s thoughts. Her visions were selective and sporadic, showing her only what they deigned. She read minds as readily as she heard the spoken word. He will not want to marry a witch, Judith.

You are not a witch and I really hate it when you do that.

Cecelia smiled wryly. My apologies. You know I try not to reveal your thoughts before you speak them, but this one is on everyone’s mind.

Even his?

I do not know.

Judith’s brows shot upward. You don’t know?

I don’t see him and for the few minutes I stood with him, read nothing in his mind.

Isn’t that odd?

Aye.

She snorted. What does it mean?

I know not.

Mayhap he won’t mind you reading other people’s thoughts as long as you don’t know his.

She shrugged. She had no notion what her own future held. She had never seen anything of that and didn’t understand that one either. Maybe that ability drove one to madness. She was just glad not to know her own fate.

Enough was enough.

Robin came face-to-face with Exeter. The man was huge, his eyes filled with angry determination. Ugliness radiated from him and it was the festering sort. That of the soul, not of the form. Their swords clashed and he felt the other man’s strength vibrate down his arm. He’d been fighting for so long he hardly thought of his actions any more. He warded off some of the heavy blows, met others solidly, and managed to keep his opponent off balance. Exeter was stronger, but Robin was more skilled.

Unlike Exeter, Robin didn’t reveal his rank in battle dress. He looked like any other of his knights and he doubted Exeter knew who their leader was. Exeter finally made a mistake, his eyes holding on something off to his left. Robin took advantage of it and sank his sword into the other man’s side.

Exeter roared and attacked with the strength of the crazed. Robin could only defend himself and wait for the blood loss to take its toll. Then he could kill him, if only to prove the lady Cecelia wrong.

He didn’t get the chance. Exeter finally fell to his knees and Robin raised his blade for the kill.

He fell to the ground before he delivered the deathblow. Blackness consumed him.

Chapter Two

Robin came to slowly . He blinked his eyes to rid himself of double vision. The effort was only partially successful. He now only saw one of everything, but it was all blurry.

Nasty bump on your hard head, Leland murmured.

Exeter?

Got away. I saw it all but was too far away to stop it. Bastard who clobbered you was mounted. He grabbed Exeter and rode off.

God’s teeth, he swore. Losses?

More than you want to think about right now.

He frowned. That bad?

Aye.

Did we at least get more of them than they got of us?

Aye.

That’s something, anyway. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. The Greenwood men?

Three died.

Damnation. The leader?

Name’s Darvin. Alive, but wounded. Not badly. He did try to stop Exeter. Got an arrow in his back for it. The lady’s tending him. He’ll live.

Robin rather wished she was tending him. Not that it would get him anywhere. She was a lady, born, bred, and familiar to the king. A man who was not in a position to wed didn’t play with that sort of fire.

Still, it was a pleasant fantasy.

A seer, he murmured.

Leland spat into a bowl. That’s not what scares folk.

Robin frowned. They don’t think her a witch?

Oh aye. They think she’s a witch, all right. A good one. She makes them uneasy more than scares them.

So, she’s not ostracized.

She’s their lady and they’re loyal to her. Thing is, Robbie, she knows what they’re thinking.

He considered that for a moment. Before they speak?

Aye. He grinned. The woman in charge of the servants, her name’s Judith, says she usually lets them speak before telling them what they want to know. Sometimes she forgets.

Robin shook his head. It was a mistake and produced a heartfelt groan. How long have I been out?

It’s almost evening.

Damnation. He struggled to sit up. The wounded?

All being tended. They were ready for us. Judith said to let her know when you were ready for your bath.

Now, Robin decided. Anything for a meal?

Aye. I sent those who weren’t hurt out hunting. The lady’s had water fetched and ordered the animals out of the bailey. They’re looking a little scrawny and need their grasses.

The tenants?

Still inside.

Keep them in for one more night. If it’s quiet and we get some rest, they can go back to their homes tomorrow. His brow wrinkled. We do still have enough men for a sufficient patrol, don’t we?

Long as we don’t keep losing them.

Robin’s sigh was heartfelt. A little peace would be nice.

Leland patted his shoulder. A lot of peace would be nice. I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble establishing yourself, Robbie.

Exeter’s a mixed blessing?

Aye.

Do you know why?

Seems he was born long before the legitimate sons. Rowan’s first wife was barren and he planned to recognize his bastard. Then she died, he remarried, and a legitimate heir was born. Rowan was friends with milady’s father and they went to see the babe. Cecelia read Exeter’s mind and told her father he planned to kill the boy, then the wife before another heir could be made. He told Rowan and Rowan banished him with nothing.

And he wants not only his own lands but revenge on the lady. He shook his head. She has a dangerous enemy.

Aye.

My bath, Leland.

Aye, milord.

Robin snorted. He never knew if he was Robbie or milord to old Leland. He preferred to be Robbie to that particular man.

Robin refused the maid’s assistance. He didn’t like being assisted in his bath and never had. He preferred his own company while letting the heat ease his muscles and clear his mind. Only his mind wasn’t clear now. There was too much to be done.

And Lady Cecelia was a problem. What would it be like to be able to read minds? No one could lie to you, certainly. No one could hide ill will. He was glad he had no intention of the first and felt none of the second. Lady Cecelia was not his enemy and he did not wish to be hers.

He had his own holdings, not Leesford, but Glenhaven. It wasn’t the home he’d envisioned as a youth. Oh, it was sufficient enough, but there was no love inside that pile of stones. It was a cold household and there was naught he could do to change it. He spent as little time there as possible, preferring to wage the king’s wars than be with his wife.

The king knew of his feelings regarding Claudia, but there was naught he could do either. Until Greenwood’s future came up for grabs. The moment Edward heard of Cecil and his sons’ deaths he had summoned Robin. Edward was trying to unite his barons. There had been too many years without a strong leader and he owned some of that blame himself, preferring his Crusades to ruling his own kingdom in his youth.

But now he was trying to rectify that. He was giving his barons more say in what went on and seeking peace between warring families. Greenwood, he’d explained, was a prize for any man. He also felt responsible for Lady Cecelia since she lost her father and brothers to his service. He needed it in hands he could trust and was loathe to show favoritism and give it to Robin outright. As the fifth son, Robin’s lands came to him through his marriage. He’d been betrothed as a young boy, married by proxy before he’d even been knighted. After that monumental event he’d gone to Glenhaven to claim his holdings and his wife.

The holdings were satisfactory. His wife was not.

Claudia was a fey creature, more childlike than woman. She existed in a world she let no one enter. Tiny, frail, and astoundingly beautiful she quite simply couldn’t cope with reality.

There had been no heir from the union. Claudia hated his touch and his visits to her bed were quick affairs in the dark. They’d be silent if she could hold back her sobs. Robin knew he didn’t hurt her. He oiled himself to ease the invasion, knowing there would be no womanly juices within her.

He loathed the joinings as much as she did but was not ready to give up on a rightful heir. No one could have known when they were betrothed at the tender age of eight that she would grow to be so distant from the world. The early vows were taken when they were thirteen because her father was dying and wanted to know the deed was done. When Robin had finally come to her at sixteen, he’d taken her hesitant welcome as natural nervousness over the marriage bed. He’d stayed a month, which was longer than he’d needed to know what sort of marriage he was stuck with. He’d comforted himself with the lands, but even those became cold comfort.

Robin was an idealist. He considered himself a modern thinker and was always trying out new things. He’d envisioned marriage as a partnership. He’d wanted a strong woman. A smart one. One that would challenge him and enjoy a good argument as much as a good tumble.

He’d seen himself as a faithful husband, which he was not. Oh, he didn’t take anyone at Glenhaven, it wasn’t Claudia’s fault she was as she was and he couldn’t bring himself to be unfaithful to her in her own home. Elsewhere, if the woman was willing, so was he. He’d been very careful about not planting any bastards. He and Claudia were of an age and still young at five and twenty. He thought she understood his desire for an heir and knew what was expected of her when he did come home. He’d stay a few days, a sennight at most, and visit her every night. Then he’d leave her in peace for three or four months before returning. Always to find her without child.

After nine years of such a marriage, there was no joy even in the estate.

His eyes took in the luxury around him. Greenwood was no chilly castle. It was well built and if this chamber was any indication, richly appointed with fine things. Leland already seemed comfortable, but then Leland was a man who could find comfort anywhere. If he cared about anything in life, it was Robin and Robin was supremely grateful for that. He’d known the old warrior his entire life. Leland had been his father’s man and had been sent to him when he claimed his own estate. Waylan de Leesford fully understood the necessity of a completely trustworthy man and did not want young Robin walking into an unknown household without someone he knew he could count on watching his back.

And here they were again, walking in and claiming all as their own. He wanted no divided loyalties at Greenwood. He might have no trouble establishing his authority, but he wanted more than that. He wanted trust and loyalty. Staying away from Glenhaven had been a mistake and he acknowledged that. He accepted that. He’d known he couldn’t inspire what he most desired by being an absent lord. But it was just too hard to stay.

This would become his home, he decided as he finally rose from the cooling water. Here, he would try all the things he wanted to. He could farm and breed horses. He would walk into the hall after a day of labor and be greeted with a smile, some ale, intelligent conversation and a warm meal.

He didn’t know who yet, but Robin had every intention of insinuating a mistress into this household. A woman who would welcome his touch and let him play with her hair. A woman he could laugh, fight, and grow old with. He wouldn’t be able to give her his name, but damn it, she could have everything else.

It really was too bad it couldn’t be the liquid-eyed Lady Cecelia.

Even from the kitchen, Cecelia knew Robin de Leesford had entered the hall. The rapid drop in sound was all she needed. It doesn’t matter how I look, Judith, she snapped, knowing full well the woman was lamenting her disheveled appearance.

Judith glared at her.

I’m sorry, but I feel besieged by you all!

If he suggests it would you consider it? Judith demanded.

Cecelia sighed. I haven’t even met the man.

And you should. She grabbed a bottle from a nearby table. I had Tad fetch this from the stores. Go serve him some.

Cecelia looked at the bottle of fine wine her father favored. It was French and he’d hoarded it, drinking it only when alone in his solar so he didn’t have to share it. He may not like wine.

There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there? You’re the one that said we must make him welcome.

For your own good, she said dryly.

Judith studied her mistress. Mayhap she wasn’t in truth any longer, but Judith would always think of her as such. Are you afraid of him, milady?

Of course not.

But you can’t read his mind.

That was the rub. As much as Cecelia hated the visions, knowing what people were thinking had always given her a valuable edge. If she couldn’t read Robin, how would she know if he was trustworthy?

Like the rest of the world, lackwit, she scolded herself. You’ll just have to rely on your instincts and his actions.

But could she trust her instincts? Her black and white world was suddenly gray and she didn’t like it. Not when everything she held dear was at stake. Be careful what you wish for, she muttered to herself, having often lamented her gift as curse and wishing it away, and grabbed the bottle.

He was at the lord’s table, in the lord’s chair. His man Leland was on his right and another man she knew to be Martin was on his left. Even before she was close enough to hear voices, she knew Robin was learning of his casualties. Not because of his thoughts, but because of his men’s.

Martin was angry and wanted to hunt down Exeter. Leland was saddened. Robin just looked weary.

Curb your temper and your tongue, Martin, or I will quell one and separate the other, Robin threatened softly. We will deal with Exeter in due time.

Mayhap the lady will help, Leland suggested.

Cecelia frowned. She didn’t mind helping them with Exeter and would gladly tell them anything she saw regarding that swine. She hadn’t often thought of herself as a potential weapon, but Leland obviously did.

There would be many changes and like everyone else, she would have to wait and see what they would mean. Milord, she spoke softly, dropping into a shallow, but perfectly proper curtsey.

All three men rose. All three bowed. All three said, Milady.

She held the wine out to Robin. His eyes lit up and his mouth quirked after taking a hearty sniff. Chateau de Pontioeff. Where on earth did you get that?

There was a rare depth in his brown eyes and she could sense a keen intelligence and lively mind, but his knowing the origin of the wine with one whiff still surprised her. You enjoy fine wine, milord?

When I am privileged enough to partake in it.

There were faint scars on his face, one dangerously close to his eye. He’d shaved and showered, his damp hair curling boyishly above a mature face. Wrinkles had already worked their way into the skin around his eyes. He wasn’t overly tall, but she suspected the form beneath his tunic was heavily muscled.

It was my father’s, was all she offered.

He took the bottle and their eyes met. My thanks, milady. A rare treat, indeed.

They were green. Not emerald, or jade, not murky like a land-locked pond. They were light. So light the color was just a hint. There was power in those eyes, power, intelligence, and a bit of fear. Not of him, he knew instinctively, but the unknown. Her body was not tense as if in preparation for a blow. It wasn’t the moment that worried her, but the future.

She was not only splendid in appearance, but admirable in her poise.

I mean no harm to Greenwood, milady, he soothed. "It is not greed that