"No."

"Who is he, Johanna?"

"I won't speak to him," she said again. Her voice shook with emotion.

"I want to know…"

He stopped his question when she shook her head at him. He reached over and captured her chin with his hand to force her to stop denying him.

"Listen to me," he commanded. "You don't have to see him or speak to him."

He gave her his promise in a low, fervent voice.

She looked wary now, and uncertain. "Do you mean it? You won't let him come here?"

"I mean it."

She visibly relaxed. "Thank you."

Gabriel let go of her and leaned back in his chair again. "Now answer my question," he ordered again. "Who in thunder is Baron Goode?"

Every soldier in the hall was silent now, watching and listening. It was obvious to all of them their mistress was frightened. They were curious to find out why.

"Baron Goode is a powerful man in England," she whispered. "Some say he's as powerful as King John."

Gabriel waited for her to continue. Long minutes passed before he realized she wasn't going to tell him more.

"Is he a favored baron with the king?" he asked.

"No," Johanna answered. "He hates John. There are many other barons who share Goode's opinion of their overlord. They've joined together, and some say Goode is their leader."

"You speak of insurrection, Johanna."

She shook her head and turned her gaze to her lap. "It's a quiet rebellion, m'lord. England is in turmoil now, and there are many barons who believe Arthur should have been named king. He was John's nephew. His father, Geoffrey, was John's older brother. He died a few months before the birth of his son."

Calum had tried to follow the explanation. He frowned in confusion now. "M'lady, do you mean to tell us that when King Richard died, Geoffrey should have become king?"

"Geoffrey was older than John," she replied. "He was next in line, for Richard didn't have sons, you see. But Geoffrey had already died. Some believe his son should have been the rightful heir. They even rallied behind Arthur and his cause."

"So the barons fight over the question of the crown?"

Gabriel made the statement. Johanna nodded. "The barons prod their king whenever they're given the opportunity. John's made many enemies over the last several years. Nicholas believes one day there will be a full rebellion. Goode and the others are looking for a sound reason to rid the land of John now. They don't want to wait. John has proven to be a terrible king," she added in a whisper. "He has no conscience, not even toward the members of his own family. Do you know he turned against his own father and joined with France's king during the trouble? Henry died of a broken heart, for he had always believed that of all his children, John was most loyal to him."

"How did you learn all this?" Calum asked.

"From my brother, Nicholas."

"You still haven't explained why Goode would want to speak to you," Gabriel reminded her.

"Perhaps he thinks I could aid his cause to unseat John. Even if I could, I wouldn't. It would serve no purpose now. I will not involve my family in the struggle. Nicholas and my mother would both be made to suffer if I were to tell…"

"Tell what?" her husband asked.

She wouldn't answer him.

Calum nudged her with his elbow to gain her attention. "Does Arthur want the crown?" he asked.

"He did," she answered. "But I'm only a woman, Calum. I don't concern myself with England's political games. I can't imagine why Baron Goode would want to talk to me. I don't know anything that would aid his cause to unseat John."

She was lying. Gabriel didn't have any doubt about that fact. She was obviously terrified, too.

"Goode wants to ask you some questions," he remarked.

"About what?" Calum asked when his mistress remained silent.

Gabriel kept his gaze on his wife when he gave his answer. "Arthur," he said. "He's now convinced the king's nephew was indeed murdered."

Johanna started to stand up. Gabriel caught hold of her hand and forced her to stay where she was. He could feel her trembling.

"I will not talk to Goode," she cried out. "Arthur disappeared over four years ago. I don't understand the baron's renewed interest in the whereabouts of the king's nephew. I have nothing to say to him."

She had already told him more than she intended. When she'd spoken of Arthur, she used revealing words, such as was and wanted.

Johanna already knew the king's nephew was dead. Gabriel thought she might also know how Arthur had died and who had done the foul deed. He considered all the ramifications if his guess proved true, then shook his head. "England is a world away from us," he announced. "I will not allow any barons to come here. I never break my word, Johanna. You will not speak to any of them."

She nodded. Calum started to ask another question, but his laird's glare stopped him.

"We are finished discussing this matter," he commanded. "Give me your report on the progress of the wall, Calum."

Johanna was too upset to listen to the conversation. Her stomach was queasy, and she could barely swallow a bite of cheese. There was boar for the offering and leftover salted salmon, but she knew she'd gag if she tried to eat anything more.

She stared at the food, wondering how long she would have to sit there before she could be excused from the table.

"You should eat something," Gabriel told her.

"I'm not hungry," she replied. "I'm not used to eating such large meals close to bedtime, m'lord," she explained as her excuse. "In England, dinner was usually served between ten and noon, and a lighter fare was offered later in the day. It's going to take time to get accustomed to the change. Will you excuse me now? I would like to go upstairs."

Gabriel nodded permission. Since Calum was staring at her, she bid him good night, then got up and walked toward the entrance. She spotted Dumfries lounging on the left of the steps and immediately altered her path to make a wide half circle around the beast. She kept her gaze on the hound until she had gotten past him, then hurried on.

She took her time getting ready for bed. Going through such simple, uncomplicated rituals made her feel calmer and more in control of her fear. She forced herself to concentrate on each little task. She added two logs to the fire in the hearth, washed, and then sat down to brush her hair. She hated the chore. It seemed to take forever to get all the tangles out. Her scalp ached from the weight of the heavy mass, and by the time she was finished, she was too tired to braid it.

Johanna had run out of chores, and so she tried to think about other mundane things, for she believed that if she could block her fear, it would eventually go away.

"Gabriel's right," she whispered. "England is a world away from here."

I'm safe, she thought to herself, and Nicholas and Mama will continue to be safe in England as long as I remain silent.

Johanna put her brush down and made the sign of the cross. She prayed for courage first and divine guidance next, and last of all she said a prayer for the man who should have been king. She prayed for Arthur.

Gabriel came into the room just as she was finishing her petitions. He found his wife sitting on the side of the bed staring at the flames in the fireplace. He bolted the door, pulled off his boots, and then walked over to the opposite side of the bed. She stood up and turned around to face him.

She looked so damned sad to him.

"Nicholas told me King John is afraid of you."

She turned her gaze to the floor. "Where did he get that notion?"

"Johanna?"

She looked up at him. "Yes?"

"Eventually you will tell me what you know. I won't demand. I'll wait. When you're ready to confide in me, you will."

"Tell you what, m'lord?"

He let out a sigh. "You'll tell me what's scaring the hell out of you."

She thought about protesting, then changed her mind. She didn't want to lie to Gabriel.

"We are married now," she said. "And it isn't just your duty to protect me, Gabriel. It is also my duty to keep you safe whenever I can."

He didn't know what she meant by the outrageous remark. Keep him safe? Hell, she had it all backward in her mind. He was supposed to protect her and watch his own back. He would make certain he stayed alive long years so he could take care of her and Alex.

"Wives do not protect their husbands," he decided aloud.

"This wife does," she countered.

He was about to argue with her, but she turned his attention. She didn't say a word. She simply untied the belt to her robe and took the garment off. She wasn't wearing anything underneath.

His breath caught in the back of his throat. Dear God, she was beautiful. The firelight behind her cast a golden glow to her skin. There wasn't a single flaw to mar her appeal. Her breasts were full, her waist was narrow, and her legs were long.

Gabriel didn't remember taking his clothes off. He held her stare for long, silent minutes, until his heart was slamming inside his chest and his breathing was harsh with his arousal.

Johanna fought her embarrassment. She knew she was blushing because she could feel the heat in her face.

They both reached for the covers at the same time. Then they reached for each other. Johanna was still on her knees when Gabriel pulled her into his arms. He rolled her onto her back, covered her with his body, and kissed her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. She was desperate for his touch. She wanted him tonight. She needed his comfort and his acceptance.

He needed satisfaction. His hands roughly caressed her shoulders, her back, her thighs. The feel of her silky skin inflamed him.

Johanna didn't need to be coaxed into responding. She couldn't stop stroking him. His body was so hard, his skin so wonderfully hot, and the way he made love to her with his mouth and hands aroused her to a fevered state in bare minutes.

It wasn't possible to be inhibited with Gabriel. He was a demanding lover, rough and gentle at the same time. He stroked the fires inside her with his intimate caresses, and when his fingers penetrated her and his thumb rubbed against the most sensitive nub hidden beneath her sleak folds, she became wild.

He took her hand and put it on his hard arousal. She squeezed him; he growled low in his throat. He whispered erotic praise and instructions of how he wanted her to caress him.

Gabriel couldn't stand the sweet agony for very long. He roughly pulled her hands away from him, lifted her thighs, and thrust deep inside her. She cried out with pleasure. Her nails raked his shoulders, and she arched up against him to take more of him inside. He almost spilled his seed then and there. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to hold back. His hand moved down between their joined bodies, and he stroked her with his fingers until she found her fulfillment. Then he allowed his own.

His orgasm consumed him. He groaned with raw pleasure as he poured his hot seed into her. She kept calling his name, and he called God's.

Gabriel collapsed on top of his wife with a loud, satisfied grunt. He stayed inside her, unwilling to let go of the bliss he'd just experienced.

Johanna didn't want to let go of her husband just yet. She felt cherished when she was being held by him. She felt safe too… and almost loved.

His weight soon became crushing. She finally had to ask him to move so she could draw a proper breath.

He didn't know if he had enough strength. That thought amused him. He rolled to his side, taking her with him, then pulled the covers up and closed his eyes.

"Gabriel?"

He didn't answer her. She poked him in the chest to gain his attention. He grunted in response.

"You were right. I am weak."

She waited to hear his agreement. He said nothing. "A northern wind could probably blow me over," she said, repeating the words he'd spoken on their first night as man and wife.

He remained silent. "I might even be a little timid."

Several minutes passed before she spoke again. "But the other things, they aren't true. I won't let them be true."

She closed her eyes and said her prayers. Gabriel thought she'd fallen asleep. He was about to do the same. Then her voice, whisper-soft, yet filled with conviction, reached him.

"I'm not a coward."