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"Enough." Hugh cut off the flow of her words with a finger on her lips. "It may surprise you to know that I did not come here to quarrel with you."

"Nay?" Alice gave him a look of mock astonishment.

"Nay." Hugh's jaw tightened. "Not another word on the subject of yesterday's affairs at Rivenhall, Alice. What's done is done."

She gazed mutely up at him, intensely conscious of the exciting roughness of his callused finger against her soft mouth. For a moment he simply looked at her as though he sought some sign in her widened eyes.

"Alice, on the last occasion when we were in these caves you told me that the reason you had never before made love was that you had never before met a man who appealed to you."

" 'Twas the truth." Not quite all of the truth. The real truth is that I had never before met a man whom I could love, she added silently. "What of it?"

He did not answer. Instead he pulled her close, anchored her tousled head with one big hand, and kissed her.

The dark passion in his embrace was very close to the surface. Alice shivered beneath its onslaught.

Always she had been aware of the depths of his control when he held her in his arms. But today she sensed that he was fighting the steel bonds that he had imposed on himself. She wondered what awesome force had brought him to the edge of his own limits of control.

She tasted the residue of his anger and frustration in his kiss. His mouth moved on hers, relentless in its demands. She thought that she could actually hear the storm winds that howled across his soul.

But he would not, could not hurt her, Alice realized suddenly. A wondrous joy leaped within her. Her arms stole softly around his neck.

Hugh raised his head just as she moaned and parted her lips for him. He gazed broodingly at her mouth. " 'Tis time we returned to the keep. There is much to be done before we are wed tomorrow."

Alice stifled a groan. She drew a deep breath and tried to steady herself. "My lord, mayhap we should wait a while longer before we take our vows."

"Nay, madam." His voice hardened. " 'Tis too late."

"If this is only a matter of knightly honor for you, my lord, rest assured, I will not—"

"Only a matter of honor?" His amber eyes were suddenly fierce. "My honor is everything to me, madam. Everything. Do you comprehend that? All that I am flows from it."

"Sir, I did not mean to imply that I thought your honor unimportant. On the contrary, I have always been most impressed—" Alice broke off as she caught sight of an object out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to peer into the shadowed depths of the far end of the cavern.

Hugh frowned. "What is it?"

"By the Saints," Alice breathed. "Does that look like a sandal?"

Hugh glanced toward the opening. His eyes narrowed. "Aye, it does." He released Alice and strode toward the dark passage. "If that damned monk is still hanging about these parts, I vow, I shall personally throw him off Scarcliffe lands."

"But why would he wish to stay here if he could no longer preach?" Alice asked as she followed Hugh.

"An excellent question." Hugh came to a halt near the yawning tunnel. He paused and then crouched down as though to get a better look at the sandal.

"What is it?" Alice hurried toward him and looked over his broad shoulder. A deep unease filled her. The air emanating from the passageway suddenly seemed very cold. "Eyes of the Saints."

The sandal was still attached to Calvert's foot. The monk lay ominously still on the stone floor of the cave. His brown robes were tumbled about his scrawny frame as though they were so much dirty linen.

In the deep shadows it was possible to see that Calvert's body was oddly contorted. He looked as though he had been in great pain for a time but it was very clear that he was far beyond feeling anything at all now.

"He's dead," Hugh said quietly.

"Aye. Poor man." Alice crossed herself. "I could not like him but I am sorry that he died here alone. What do you think happened to him?"

"I don't know. Mayhap he fell and hit his head against a sharp stone." Hugh clamped a hand around the monk's ankle.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to get a closer look at him. There is something strange about this." Hugh dragged the monk's body out of the passage.

Alice backed hurriedly out of the way. Then she saw the odd blue color around Calvert's mouth. A shiver of dread gripped her.

She recalled something her mother had written about potions made from the juice of a rare herb. She glanced at Calvert's fingernails. His hands had stiffened into clawlike shapes but she could make out the blue tinge beneath his nails.

"My lord?"

"Aye?" Hugh asked absently. He was concentrating on the task of stretching the monk's body out in the light of the cavern entrance. When he had finished, he stood and gazed down at Calvert with a speculative expression.

"I do not believe that the monk died from a fall," Alice whispered.

Hugh gave her a sharp, assessing look. "What are you saying?"

"I believe that this is the work of poison."

Hugh studied her for a long moment. "You are certain?"

Alice nodded bleakly. "My mother's book contains several pages of notes on the subject."

"In that case," Hugh said very evenly, "you will say nothing concerning the manner of his death. Do you comprehend me, Alice?"

"Aye." She was bemused by the intensity of his voice. "But I do not understand. Why is it so important that I keep silent?"

"Because the entire village witnessed your anger toward him in church." Hugh went down on one knee beside the monk's body. "And because everyone knows that you are expert with herbal potions."

Alice went cold to the bone. Nausea assailed her. She swallowed rapidly, trying to control the churning in her stomach. "Dear God. People may believe that I had a motive to murder poor Calvert and that I know enough of poisons to do so."

"I will not have my wife touched by such gossip if it can be avoided." Hugh unfastened and removed the leather pouch that was suspended from Calvert's belt. "This land has seen enough of legends and curses. I do not want new ones added to the old."

Alice was dazed. She barely registered Hugh's actions. Her legs were unsteady. She flattened her hand against the wall of the cave to brace herself. "And if such gossip cannot be avoided?"

Hugh shrugged as he got to his feet, Calvert's pouch in one hand. "Then I shall deal with it."

"Of course." Alice hugged herself against the chill that enveloped her. "It would seem that I am destined to cause you endless inconvenience, my lord."

"Aye, but there will no doubt be compensations." He opened the leather pouch and studied the contents. "Interesting."

His expression finally penetrated Alice's anxious mood. Her own natural curiosity reasserted itself. "What is it?"

Hugh drew out a sheet of rolled parchment. He unfurled it carefully. "A map."

She took a step toward him. "Of what?"

Hugh studied the drawing for a moment. When he looked up at last, his golden eyes gleamed. "I believe this may be a drawing of the passages of the caves of Scarcliffe. Or at least of those passages that Calvert had time to explore."

Alice hurried to where Hugh stood. She gazed down at the lines on the map. "Look, my lord, he marked several of the tunnels. See, here, he has indicated that these two passages are empty." She glanced at Hugh. "Empty of what, do you suppose?"

"I do not believe that our monk spent all of his time praying in these caverns. It appears that he was searching for something. There is only one treasure that would lure a man into these caves."

"The stones of Scarcliffe," Alice whispered, amazed.

"Aye. Mayhap he was murdered for them."