Free Mystique by Amanda Quick

such maneuver. To judge by the rosy flush on her cheeks, the stratagem had worked. The lady was not immune to passion. That fact would no doubt prove useful.
    “As I said,” Hugh muttered, “I believe I can convince your uncle that I have been swept away by passion.”
    “Aye, well, I shall leave the matter in your hands, my lord.” Alice’s cheeks were very pink. She turned away, not meeting his eyes. “You appear to know what you are about.”
    “Rest assured that I do.” Hugh took a deep breath and went toward the door. “See to your travel preparations and those of your brother. I wish to be on the road by noon.”
    “Aye, my lord.” She glanced at him. Satisfaction and a womanly pleasure gleamed in her vivid eyes.
    “There is just one more small detail that must be dealt with before we leave,” Hugh said.
    Alice gave him a politely inquiring look. “What is that, sir?”
    “You have neglected to tell me in which direction we shall be traveling. It is time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain, Alice. Where has the green stone been taken?”
    “Oh, the stone.” She gave a shaky chuckle. “By the Saints, what with one thing and another, I very nearly forgot about my part of this arrangement.”
    “The green stone is what this is all about,” Hugh said very coolly.
    The glow promptly disappeared from Alice’s eyes. “Of course, my lord. I shall lead you to the stone.”

S ir Ralf choked on his morning ale. “You wish to betroth yourself to my niece?” His round, heavy features screwed themselves into a grimace as he sputtered and coughed. “Your pardon, sir,” he gasped. “But did I hear rightly? You want to wed
Alice?
”
    “Your niece suits my requirements in a wife.” Hugh helped himself to a wedge of aging bread. The unappetizing breakfast fare that had appeared from the kitchens this morning indicated that Alice had lost interest in culinary matters after she had arranged last night’s banquet. The lady had achieved her goal and had promptly ceased working her magic.
    Hugh wondered wryly what she herself had dined on this morning in her private chambers. Something more interesting than weak ale and old bread, he suspected.
    Ralf stared at him, openmouthed with amazement. “She meets your requirements? You actually believe that Alice will make you a proper wife?”
    “Aye.”
    Hugh did not blame Ralf for his incredulity since his host had not been the beneficiary of Alice’s mastery of household arts.
    The great hall was empty this morning except for Hugh and Ralf, who sat at a small table near the fire, and a sullen band of drudges moving about in a desultory fashion. The servants made a halfhearted show of cleaning up after last night’s feast but it was plain they took little interest in the task. One took occasional swipes with a cleaning cloth and another made a few idle attempts to scrub the wooden boards. There was little soap and water involved in the process.
    The ale-soaked rushes that had covered the stone floor last night were still in place together with the bits and pieces of food that had fallen among them. No amount of scented herbs scattered about could disguise the smell of rotting meat and sour wine. Not that anyone was bothering to toss fragrant herbs onto the moldering pile.
    “The wedding will have to be held at some future date in the spring.” Hugh eyed the stale bread. He was hungry but not hungry enough to eat another slice. “I cannot spare the time for a proper celebration just now.”
    “I see.”
    “And there is the business side of the thing to be considered.”
    Ralf cleared his throat. “Uh, certainly. The business side.”
    “I think it would be best if Alice and her brother accompanied me back to Scarcliffe so that I will not be put to the trouble of making another trip to collect my bride at some later date.”
    “You’re going to take her with you today?” Ralf’s beady eyes reflected undisguised disbelief.
    “Aye. I have instructed