Her colouring was even more striking than her mother's, for instead of being a dappled grey, she was a dappled gold, or would be when her baby fuzz had grown into true, glossy horsehide. She had the sharp, pricked ears, the intelligent eye and the fluid lines that suggested her father at least must have come from Andaluz stock. An aristocrat, lost among the peasants, so small an aristocrat, that Mauger had overlooked her.

Julitta was not so naive as to call Mauger over and make a fuss about purchasing mother and daughter. If they were fortunate, they could obtain both for a bargain price. She sauntered back to the men. 'Are you going to buy any?' she asked Mauger.

He eyed her suspiciously. 'Why?'

Julitta pointed at a jet-black yearling which she knew Mauger had discarded as being too weak in the chest and spindly of leg. 'He's nice,' she said to the coper. 'Can you trot him up and down again?'

The coper agreed with alacrity, scarcely able to believe his luck. Mauger, full of his own disbelief, faced Julitta. 'What do you think you are doing?' he hissed furiously. 'That animal's not worth a bag of beans!'

'I know,' Julitta said calmly.

Mauger glared. 'Then why did you…'

'Oh, be quiet and listen! I asked to look at the yearling to distract the trader so that I could talk to you about that mare and foal over there without him suspecting. The mare's ordinary, but look at the foal, look at the breeding in her.'

'I've already looked,' Mauger said coldly.

'And you were not impressed?'

His eyes flickered to the trader who was trotting the black up and down. 'I won't waste your father's coin for your foolish whim,' he growled.

'It's not a whim, it is sound sense!' Julitta's eyes flashed angrily. 'There's Spanish blood in her. Do you think I cannot recognise quality when I see it?'

'You are saying that you know more after one year than I do after nine and twenty?' Mauger's nostrils flared.

'I am saying that you overlooked the foal because the mother is not what you want.'

'I overlooked nothing,' Mauger said through his teeth, clinging grimly to control. 'Even if the sire is pure-bred Andaluz, the mother's blood will bring it down. Your father entrusts me with the management of his horses, not some flighty wench who should be at her distaff.'

Julitta recoiled as if she had been punched. Mauger might have more knowledge than her, but he did not possess the vital spark of intuition. To be slapped down when she knew she was right was a blow that left her first speechless, and then hot with indignation. 'Then he entrusts a jackass!' she spat, and turning her back on him, faced the trader who had given up all pretence of showing the black's paces and was staring at the two of them in astonishment.

'How much do you want for the cream mare and her foal?' Julitta demanded, all subterfuge flown.

The coper drew breath.

'You bargain with me, or not at all,' Mauger snarled furiously. 'I am responsible for my lord's bloodstock. The girl has no authority, and furthermore no coin. And I wish to buy neither mare nor foal.'

Julitta whirled round and glared at Mauger, loathing him.

'Scowl all you want, your tantrums will not change my mind,' Mauger said brutally.

She wanted to kick him, she wanted to scream abuse in his face, but she saw that the deeper she wallowed in fury, the more he gained. Gathering the tatters of her dignity around her like a threadbare cloak, she swept out of the bailey, and only when she was out of sight did she stoop to pick up a stone and hurl it as far and as hard as she could, to the accompaniment of language purloined from Dame Agatha's bathhouse.

For the rest of the day she kept to the bower, twirling raw wool on her distaff with a vengeance while she wondered how many other opportunities Mauger had let slip through his fingers during the twenty-nine years of experience he claimed to his advantage.

In the late afternoon just as the candles were being lit, a servant hurried into the bower to inform Arlette that Benedict de Remy and the Lady Gisele had ridden in.

Arlette's face shone so brightly that they scarcely required the candles, and she leaped to her feet. So did Julitta, her heart bumping against her ribs, her stomach queasy with anticipation. She had tried to banish Benedict from her thoughts since his marriage at Michaelmas, but she had no control over her dreams. Time and again he would invade them and torment her with his smile.

Full of anticipation, fall of dread, she followed Arlette out to the bailey. Gisele had been travelling by litter, she had never been keen on riding, and as the contraption was set down, she drew aside the curtains, stepped out and flung herself into her mother's arms. Weeping, the two women embraced. Julitta stopped dead, her gaze held not so much by the sight of Benedict, lithe and strong with a new maturity to his features, as by the cream mare and golden-dapple foal attached by a leading rein to Cylu's saddle.

She stared and stared. Arriving to greet the visitors, so did Mauger, his complexion growing dusky and his grey eyes brightening with rage.

'How did you do this?' he hissed furiously at Julitta.

'I didn't do anything!' she retorted. 'I've been "minding my distaff' as you suggested.'

Glowering, Mauger shouldered forward to confront Benedict. The young man drew breath to speak, but Mauger stole his space.

'Where did you get this mare and foal?' he demanded. 'Did she put you up to it?' An aggressive forefinger stabbed at the staring Julitta.

Benedict looked astounded. He glanced briefly at Julitta, then back to his fuming accuser. 'Put me up to what?' He shrugged. 'I've only just arrived, and this is the first time I've set eyes on Mistress Julitta since Martinmas. 'I met a horse-trader driving his animals towards Honfleur and I stopped to look over what he had.'

'Surely you must have known that he had been here first, and that I had rejected his stock as unfit for Brize?' Mauger said huskily.

'Of course I knew. I guessed even before he told me. And since you had rejected them,' Benedict added silkily, 'I judged myself perfectly within my bounds to buy the mare and foal for Ulverton. The mare's ordinary, I grant you, but the foal shows promise, and if she carries the stallion's line so well, she will probably make an excellent brood mare. The trader was disappointed at having sold you nothing, so he made himself feel better by letting me have these two at a very attractive price.' Benedict tilted his head. 'What's wrong, Mauger? To look at you, anyone would have thought I had squandered a hundred marks on a broken-winded ass.'

Mauger clenched and unclenched his fists as if contemplating using them on Benedict. He brought himself under control, and making a sound of pure disgust, turned on his heel and stormed off. Benedict stared at his retreating back, and then at Julitta, seeking an answer.

'I asked him to buy the mare and foal, but he turned stubborn on me and refused. We had a furious argument right in front of the horse-trader. Mauger thought he had won.' She said all of this in a neutral voice, but then her eyes began to sparkle and her mouth to curve. 'I could not believe it when I saw them on leading reins!' She approached the mare and foal, her hand outstretched. 'Perhaps prayers are answered after all.' She threw Benedict a dazzling smile.

He caught his breath at her beauty. She was so spontaneous, so different to Gisele who carefully weighed every action, each word and gesture, tempering them all to what was correct. 'Not Mauger's,' he said with an answering grin. It felt strange to smile. There had been little humour in his life these past few months. Sometimes he thought there would be more joy in becoming a monk.

Arlette appeared at his side and greeted him with a cool peck on each cheek. 'Welcome, son,' she said formally. 'Will you come inside?'

Benedict returned her stilted embrace. He and Arlette were never going to be more than tepid with each other. She resented the rights he had over her daughter, rights that enabled him to take Gisele far away from Brize if he so desired, and for his part, Benedict resented the hold Arlette had over Gisele, that made of his young wife nothing but a pretty, hollow shell without a mind of her own.

'In a moment, Mother,' he said. 'I want to see the mare and foal safely bedded down first.'

'I'll come with you,' Julitta ventured quickly, gambling that Arlette would not refuse. Usually she would have done, but with Gisele home at Brize after an absence of five months, Julitta was certain that mother and daughter would want to talk in private without the constraint of other ears.

Arlette gave her a hard look, obviously torn between her desire to be alone with Gisele and the inadvisability of letting Julitta out of her sight. The former won, but only just. 'Do not be too long,' she said sternly and waggled a smooth, white forefinger to emphasise the point.

'No, Madame,' Julitta said meekly, barely able to conceal her fierce delight.

Benedict watched the small, golden-dappled foal curl up on the straw of the stall and immediately fall asleep. Her mother dozed too, replete with the feed of oats she had been given.

'She's a little beauty,' Benedict said, admiring his purchase.

'I could have killed Mauger.' Julitta watched the foal too. 'I sometimes wonder how he finds his face to shave!'

Benedict laughed, but felt forced to speak up in Mauger's defence. 'Anyone can make a mistake. And it doesn't do a man's pride any good to admit to a girl of fifteen that she is right and he is wrong.'

'Well he didn't do much for my resolution to be of a sweeter nature in the future,' Julitta answered ruefully.

'You? Sweet natured?' Benedict snorted as if he thought such a notion preposterous, and Julitta swiped at him.

'I suppose,' she said wistfully, 'that you'll take her back to Ulverton when you return?'

'You don't think I'm leaving her here with Mauger, do you?'

Silently she shook her head and looked longingly at the foal.

Benedict pursed his lips, considering. 'I tell you what,' he said, 'I'll keep her for you at Ulverton. When your father returns, I'll tell him that the horse is yours. He'll understand when he sees young Freya here.'

'Freya?'

'One of your father's Norse Gods, or should I say Goddesses.' He smiled.

'And you are saying she is mine?' Julitta's eyes began to shine.

Benedict nodded. 'I bought her for Ulverton, but if not for Mauger's foolishness, she would have been yours first.'

Julitta gave a small, joyous cry and flung herself into his arms. 'Ben, thank you!' she cried, hugging him enthusiastically. He hugged her in return. His nostrils were filled with the scent of her, his hands with the feel of her soft, supple body, and his breathing quickened. For an instant his grip tightened as if to hold her, but then he changed direction and pushed her gently away.

A groom entered the stables and Benedict released her completely. 'As I say,' he repeated, clearing his throat, 'I'll tell your father about the arrangement.' He drew a deep breath, and as the dangerous moment receded, his tone lightened and his manner became more natural. 'Besides, I have advanced the prestige of Ulverton tremendously this winter season. Your father cannot help but be delighted.' A note of pride entered his voice.

Julitta watched him, fascinated by every movement, every facet: the shine of light on his heavy black hair and the planes of his face, the cadence of his voice, his lips shaping the words. The place between her legs, the place that Arlette said was forbidden and sinful to think about, was leaden with heat. 'What have you done?' she heard herself prompt.

Benedict moved towards the door and the safety of the open bailey. 'The King's sons came to Ulverton to look at our horses. Robert and Rufus and Henry on my threshold, I could not believe it. Their father has always come to yours for his mounts, but this is the first time that his sons have shown an interest of their own. They wanted to see your father, but of course he is in Paris, so they had to deal with me. Actually, I think it sat better with them to talk to a younger man than with one of their father's years. They bought several animals and promised to return in the summer — and I think they will. Robert was particularly interested in my desire to import Iberian horses for breeding. He is a great believer in their qualities.'