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worked for coin travelling far afield. It had been hard, very hard. Then he had happened upon King Edward's camp in Halidon Hill. He had asked to join their ranks under the guise of John and after a quick assessment of his skills, he had been allowed to train with them until they deemed him ready to stand amongst them and fight as brothers.
    Five years later, he had been given land in Terryn and a knighthood for services rendered. With plenty of coin, he had paid local builders to build him one of the finest castles in the county. When it was ready two years later, he decided that it was time to take a wife.
    He rode back to Arnscroft in disguise. In the local village he asked about Mirabelle and was dismayed but not surprised to find her married these past nine years. Arabella, however, was still unwed, and that was when he hatched his plan to marry her.
    She had ruined his life all those years ago—it was high time she paid for what she'd done.
    Her father had been approachable, especially when he showed him proof of his land ownership and status. Aye, he had seemed quite eager to get rid of the wench. Would that he had been so certain if he had known his real identity!
    It had seemed a little disconcerting to stand before the very man who had banished him all those years ago and have him converse as an equal. They had agreed the marriage, and Ulric had left before seeing Arabella.
    Now she sat beside him as his wife. His to command. Hers to obey.
    * * *
    Arabella gulped back her wine and grimaced as the strong drink hit the back of her throat. This was not the fine wine she was used to at Arnscroft. She reached for the water and topped up the wine to at least make it palatable.
    Whilst she drank, she lamented her situation more and more. How could she be expected to live with a man that detested her? She finished her meal in silence, and she arose slightly inebriated from her seat with the sole intention of seeking solace within her chamber. But John had other ideas. He placed a hand on her arm, stilling her movements. "Whither dost thou goest, wife?"
    "I wish to retire," she replied.
    "Nay, 'tis early and yet light. I wouldst show thee thy new home before darkness descends."
    Without waiting for her reply, he steered her away from the table and stepping off the dais led her out of the hall. She felt tiny, as she fell into step next to him, and his hand on her elbow made her tremble, as differing emotions coursed through her. She should hate him, but part of her still yearned for his touch. Surely, somewhere within that beating heart lay her beloved Ulric. She would find him and rid him of John of Terryn for good.
    John suddenly came to a stop in front of the stables outside in the bailey. "Marec needs help with the horses. I hath decided that this will be one of thy chores."
    She blinked rapidly taking in his words. "Chores? I do no chores! Thou hast serfs for that."
    His grip on her elbow tightened, and he turned her to face him. "'Tis irrelevant whether I hath serfs enough or not. I hath ordered thee to aid Marec, and so thee shall!"
    She tried to shrug his grip off, but he held fast. "Thou cannot order me about like a common serf. I am thy wife and will be treated with the respect I deserve!"
    "Respect? Didst thou respect me when those lies slipped so easily from thy tongue to thy father?" His eyes pierced hers, his jaw tightening.
    She stamped her foot. "Oh, fie on thee! Thou knowest not the truth, and yet thee will not hear my explanation. Thou art addle-brained."
    "I shall let that comment pass, but say so again, and I shall not be so lenient." He spoke low, his words menacing. "I am lord of this castle, and thou wouldst do well to remember that." He pointed towards the stables again. "At matins, thee will rise early and report to Marec for duties."
    Her temper began to boil. Mayhap all vestiges of Ulric were well and truly gone, because Ulric would never have expected such a thing. "Thou wouldst expect me to clean