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by Imogen’s squeal of delight as she threw an arm round his neck and kissed him. For a second he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, but the lambs’ wriggling protest made him pull back long before he wanted to.

Robert looked up from Imogen’s flushed face to cast a quick glance at Duncan, and was relieved to see that the wise old man had returned to his digging. Edmond, however, wasn’t as quick. He was staring slack-jawed at the couple when Robert’s eyes met his. Robert smiled at his look of embarrassed devastation, but decided to take pity on the poor boy.

“Edmond is looking like a slapped puppy,” he whispered into Imogen’s ear. “He seems to think I stole his reward.”

Imogen’s renewed blush almost rivaled Edmond’s.

“Of course, I’m so sorry, Sir Edmond.” She turned and, with the unerring judgment that always amazed Robert, reached on tiptoes and placed a kiss on Edmond’s heated cheek. “The lamb is absolutely wonderful and I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You could always name it after him,” Robert said wickedly.

“No!” Edmond yelped, forgetting all manners in his distress. Robert watched with amusement as the younger man cleared his throat and started again. “No such thanks are necessary, Lady Imogen.” He touched his cheek reverently. “None at all. Well, I’d best get back to work. Can’t stand around talking all day.”

He lifted Imogen’s hand and bowed over it with more grace than Robert had ever seen him display before, then strode manfully away. Robert only just managed to catch the whoop of victory he let out before disappearing around the corner.

“Imogen, how the hell do you do it?” Robert asked, shaking his head with wonder.

“Do what?” she asked abstractedly as she tried to calm the now seriously squirming lamb.

“Never mind,” he said with a bemused smile.

“Robert, I think it’s hungry. What do I do?” she asked as she slipped her fingers into its mouth and it began sucking on them aggressively.

“Don’t ask me. I’m a warrior, not a farmer.”

“A good lord should be a little of both, sir,” Duncan murmured with a knowing smile. “As for the lamb, I suggest a visit to the kitchens for some milk and a bed by the fire might be in order.”

The concern cleared from Imogen’s face. “Brilliant.” She beamed at Duncan, and moved out of Robert’s sheltering arms so that she could dump the lamb into them instead.

“What the…”

“It’s a lamb, not a sheep, and it’s hungry, so you’d best feed it.”

“How come I get left with the bloody thing?” he protested. “It’s from one of your foolish admirers, you look after it.”

“Edmond’s not foolish and I’m working,” she said sternly, then wrecked the overall effect by breaking into a grin as she ran a hand over the lamb’s head. “Besides, as Duncan said, you can’t just be a warrior. You’ll have to learn about things like sheep, now you might own some. Here’s a chance to get a little practical experience, so go learn about sheep while I get back to work.”

Robert scowled furiously at the suddenly busy Duncan, then looked helplessly down at the frantic creature that had started to suck aggressively on one of the toggles on his shirtfront.

“I don’t want to look after the sheep,” Robert said plaintively, knowing he sounded like a petulant child and not caring.

Imogen leaned up and placed a lingering kiss on his lips. “Sure you do,” she whispered for him alone. “Please.”

He groaned, knowing when he was outclassed and defeated. He snaked out an arm and clamped her close to his body and gave himself over to a hard, hungry kiss in an attempt to salvage something from this disaster. By the time he drew away they were both struggling for air and the lamb was protesting loudly.

He looked down at the beast in resignation. “Milk and warmth, right Duncan?”

“That’d be right, Sir Robert.”

Robert nodded and, with one last heated look at Imogen, turned to leave. He was stopped by a low murmur.

“If you come and get me in an hour, I should be finished here and we can discuss…that further in our chamber.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, but all right. One hour, and not a second longer.”

As he walked toward the kitchen he was well aware that he was grinning and had a decided spring in his step. He looked down at the lamb and gave it a smug smile. “Looks like I’m getting a reward out of you as well as Edmond, and I can guarantee, mine will be the better one of the two.”

The lamb met his eyes blandly and bit down on the toggle, breaking it cleanly in two.

Imogen smiled as Robert’s whistle reached her on the breeze. She didn’t understand the man, she thought with a shake of her head, and started to weed once more.

“If you don’t mind me saying, my lady,” Duncan said suddenly, “but he’s a good man, that husband of yours.”

“You think so, Duncan?” she asked, calmly working, pretending that the answer didn’t really matter.

“I don’t think so, my lady, I know so.”

A good man? Did such things exist? Did they manage to live even though men like Roger seemed to be in control of the world? It seemed almost fantastic, but a part of Imogen started fervently praying that it might indeed prove to be true. She carried the hope of her prayers in her heart as she worked. She needed so badly for it to be true. The world so badly needed good men. But to hell with the world, she thought savagely, pulling up a weed, she needed them more. Needed him more. She needed him to be all he seemed to be.

Was she tempting fate by asking for so much?

Perhaps, but she also knew that she couldn’t survive with anything less. If Robert turned out to be Roger’s man, then her new life would turn to ashes, and her life would no longer be worth living.

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