A/N:I hope this makes up for the previous chapter! And that this was worth the wait, please lemme know what you guys think!

Chapter 1.

...

The weather had not been altogether bad. South beyond London, the forest of Anderida had enclosed them like a green ocean, but Noah had arranged for a guide to lead them through its timbered vastness. Snow had fallen, but not heavily, and not enough to slow down his troop of men.

Noah, huddled in his thick, fur-lined cloak, had thought wistfully of Santana, her long dark hair covering her dark skin of her back as last evening she'd poured him wine from a jug. Her movements had been graceful and languid, and as she had turned to him, she had smiled. She had made a tasty picture, dressed only in her dark locks.

He did not love her, any more than she loved him. Their relationship was of convenience, and love was not something that was part of the contract between them. For Noah, women like Santana were a necessity-a necessary pleasure. If she was not the greatest conversationalist, and her intelligence was shrewd rather than deep, what did it matter, when she more than satisfied him in bed?

And as for Santana, the daughter of an ambitious minor noble, she was more than happy with her comfortable rooms and fine clothes and jewels.

"I have to leave tomorrow," he had told her, sipping the wine.

She had blinked. "Go where my lord?"

"To the Downs in the southwest, Santana. To Gunlinghorn."

Her eyes had widened. "Oh, my lord, I would not like to go outside London! There are savages in the countryside!"

Noah had grinned."Then it is as well you are not going, Santana. You will stay here until I return."

She had been relieved, Noah thought now with wry humor. Santana had had no desire to share the perils of Noah's journey. She liked him, or at least she liked the luxuries he could afford to give her, but that was as far as it went. She was glad he was going alone.

Why were women so fickle? They couldn't wait to get into bed with him, but none of them sobbed more than a few false tears when it was time to part. Was it something to do with him? Did he not please them in some way? Noah knew that wasn't so-his women were always well pleased.

When their relationship had run its course, and they left, they nearly always took with them a mutual fondness. Noah had lately begun to understand that something was missing. But what?

As clever and handosme as he was reported to be, Noah did not know. In younger days he hadn't felt the need to dwell on such puzzling and incomprehensible matters. Then all he wanted was a lusty woman in his bed.

Somewhere, somehow Noah felt lonely...love?

In his heart, Noah held a dark fear. Love would mean sharing all his secrets with another person and trusting them to understand. It would mean giving more of himself than he was prepared, or perhaps able, to give.

Noah had been more or less orphaned at the age of five, and at thirteen he had been a man well and truly. He did not look at love as a reason to surivive.

What does it matter if I haven't found my soulmate? He asked himself angrily. He had what other men envied. He was well favored in looks and fortune, he had the king's ear and any woman he wanted. It was no boast, but honest truth. Women never turned Lord Noah down.

Love!

He had no time for love;it was least of his concerns. He admitted to himself that that was why he preferred the lighter intimacies of women like Santana;it was less trouble. It was safer.

Noah and his troop of men rode on, into the wintry forest, through the fertile Weald and onto the windswept Down. Here the Gunlinghorn River was born in the chalk downs and grew wide and strong, leading then into the Vale of Gunlinghorn. Winter rains had turned ponds into small lakes, and the water meadows were full of life despite the weather. Noah watched a long-legged waterbird fly low across the gray surface, momentarily surrounded by a flock of smaller linnets.

Gunlinghorn had always been plentiful in its harvests of both land and water.

Before the Normans came, life here had been fortunate, bountiful, and under Lady Rachel little had changed. In that regard, Gunlinghorn was truly a small slice of Eden.

The castle stood up upon a tall hill, overlooking the Vale. From the highest point of the keep, one could look out over the cliffs on the coast of England, to the very sea the Normans had sailed across to make their conquest.

The keep itself was contructed of timber cut from the woods surrounding the Vale of Gunlinghorn. The strong wooden ramparts encircling the keep were currently being remade in local stone, with the grim-looking gate house already completed.

Rachel was ferocious when it suggested stone the last time he'd been here. Now, seeing with his own eyes that she had taken his advice, he felt an unexpected rush of pleasure.

Gunlinghorn's heavy gates opened easily to his name. Noah led his men into bailey, casting an eye over the busy castlefol, and nodding in reply to the many cries of welcome. He was known here. Liked, too, he thought. It was almost like coming home.

With an odd catch in his chest, Noah realized that Gunlinghorn was probably the nearest thing to family and a home that he had ever had.

In the great hall, several servants bowed low, their voices hushed to murmurs. Noah hardly noticed them. The warmth and welcome of Gunlinghorn embraced him, laced with the aroma of roasting meat from the kitcken. Noah felt himself beging to relax, the tensions easing out of his shoulders like loosening knots. He never relaxed in London- it was neither safe or prudent to do so.

And yet now, at Gunlinghorn, the need to be constantly watchful was being replaced by a sense of well-being.

Noah could not shelp himself: he smiled. Making his way to the roaring fire, he accepted mulled wine from one of Rachel's servants. He gulped it down, feeling instant warmth spearing through his chilled body, and then set about stripping off his heavy gloves and stamping snow from his boots. Several castle dogs snuffled about him with friednly curiosity.

"Noah!"

Her familiar voice rose above the bustle. Noah did not realize. How muxh he had missed her until he heard it. Or how the sight of her warmed his heart, he thought as he turned.

Lady Rachel was coming toward him. Her moss green gown and the hem of her creamy chemise swirled elegantly about her legs, while a jewel-decorated, golden girdle rested low upon her hips. Rings sparkled upon her elegant fingers, and her silken white veil drifted about her head and shoulders. Even from the far end of the hall, Noah could see the smile glowing in her brown eyes.

Surprised, Noah wondered why he had never noticed that her skin was as creamy and as smooth as milk. And he knew the brown hair beneath her veil to be lush and curling, perfect for a man to tangle his fingers through. Her eyes, a haunting deep brown, were set withing long dark lashes and topped by slim, arching brows. Such eyes...they were really quite remarkable.

Would they darken with passion when she was in the arms of a man? With her wealth there must have been many suitos hoping to win her approval. And not just because of her riches, either. Rachel was an extremely good looking woman.

Although he had known many beautiful woman, Noah realized there was something about Rachel...something unique, something he had never noticed until now.

"I did not expect you so soon," Rachel said.

"I did not think it worth sending your messenger with a warning I was on my way-I would have arrived before him."

She gripped his hand firmy with her own cool fingers and smiled straight into his eyes. For a moment, a single moment, he felt as if she had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. And then Noah blinked and shook ogg his strange abstraction. He raised her fingers to his lips, enjoying the scent and taste of her, surprising himself yet again. When he looked up there was a twinkle in her brown eyes.

"I thought that you might be otherwise occupied at court, Noah. Too busy with your intrigues to get away."

"Nothing could ever be as important as your wished Rachel," he said blandly, and for once he meant it.

She laughed, Rachel never took his compliments seriously, Rachel thought irritably, but in another moment her was smiling at his own foolishness. This was Rachel, after all. Why should it suddenly matter to him whether she believed his compliments or not?

"You are looking well," he said.

"I am well." She replied. "Comen Noah, and sit with me a moment. As soon as my sentries came to tell me they had seen you, I told the cook to prepare food, and I know you will want a hot bath, so there will be one waiting, when you are ready for it. You see, we are not complete barbarians."

"I am pleased to hear it."

She pulled a face at him and turned away. Noah followed her. Her skirts swayed gently as she walked, and the line of her back was straight and graceful. The sight of her was to be enjoyed, but Noah told himself that what he really enjoyed about it was that he felt absolutely no desire. None at all, he insisted to himslef.

There was no urgency to bed her, and to make her his. It was actually quite restful. He had not fully appreciated it before, but being with Rachel was really very soothing.

Rachel led him to an alcove, partially hidden behind an embroidered screen. Gracefully, she sat down, arranging her skirts about her, and Noah sat beside her, smiling as he watched her fuss. She seemed to be avoiding his eyes. What had she done that she could not tell her oldest friend?

"You sent for me and here I am. Now, tell me, Rach," he said with a slight impatience."What is it?"

She looked up, and her green eyes shone with both excitement and trepidation. "Noah, I am thinking to marry again."

Noah stared. For such a practised lordling who was never at a loss for a quip or a joke, he suddenly founf himself with nothing to say. And worse, inside his chest a mixture of very intense emotions writhed like serpents.

Was one of them dread? But why would he feel this? And was another disappointment? Now it occurred Noah to wonder why he was so surprised by her news. She had loved Finn, but he had been dead two years, and there must have been many ambitious barons who had set their sights upon her since.

True, she had told Noah soon after Finn had died that she did not intend to wed again, and because of her kindship with the king, it had been possible for her to honor her vow. The king's fondness for her had worked in her favor, and Rachel had remained a widow, ruling her own lands, doing just as she'd wished. Indeed, thought Noah with an inner smile, when had he ever known Rachel to do otherwise?

Noah tried to clear his thoughts, tried to shurg off the strange mood that had come upon his normally cold and rational self. Mabe he was just concerned for her wellbeing? That must be it, he thought with relief, as he looked at her.

Rachel was frowning at him, a tiny wrinkle between her arching brows. "You do not seem overjoyed, Noah," she said with a bite to her tone. "And I have not even told you his name. This does not bode well,does it, for your attendance at my bride ale?"

Noah managed to laugh, though it took more effort than he would have believed possible.

"I am sorry, Rachel, but it was a shock...a surprise. I had no idea...you have been a widow so long, I am used to your single state. I did not realize you wanted to alter it. Who is the fortunate man?"

"I have not decided to tell him yet, but the man is Henry."

Noah kept the smile on his face through sheer strength of willpower. Rachel gave him a sharp, searching glance but seemed satisfied with what she saw. Relaxing a little, her cheeks faintly flushed, she proceeded to tell him about her chosen husband.

But Noah wasn't listening. He did not need to hear anything about Lord Henry. Noah knew him. Twice Rachel's age, warstruck and truculent, how could such a man attract the attention of the Lady Rachel, let alone her affection? For there was affection in her voice.

It was beyond his comprehension.

"'Tis all very well, sweeting," he said patiently, interrupting the flow of her lilting voice, "but isn't he a little old for you?"

Rachel stopped, blinked and stared. And then she laughed aloud. "Oh Noah, you fool! No, no, not the father! I am thinking to marry the son. Martin. He is not too old for me, in fact he is younger than me, and very aimiable. I am certain we will get on very well together."

"You mean he will never forbear you anything you ask for, and you will boss him aboout unmercifully," he retorted.

Rachel had the grace to look a little ashamed."Well, maybe. But I would not want a man who would rule me, Noah. I am to used to my own way, and more so now, when I have run Gunlinghorn for so long, alone. I fear I would not take kindly to interference."

That last sounded like a warning. Had she asked him here because she wanted him to say yes to everything she asked of him? Well, he thought with a sudden spurt of anger, he'd be damned if he'd come all this way just to faltter her.

"My sweet Rachel," Noah began, careful to sound as friendly and helpful as he could. " I do not mean to critisize, but to marry with the expectation of treating your husband like one of your serfs does not bode well for your future happiness."

Rachel smiled coolly and narrowed her intriguing eyes. "And of course you are all knowledgeable when it comes to marriage, Noah."

"No, you know I am not, but I have witnessed many others falter, or end in misery."

"Noah, I do not marry for love," she explained to him in a patient voice. "I honestly do not expect to find anything more than a companionship, and if I wed a man who bows to all my wishes, I will certainly be the happier for that."

But Rachel deserved so much more, Noah thought, and felt sadness for her sake. She seemed to believe herself unworthy of genuine happiness. Unworthy of the sort of love that Noah's friends had discovered. Perhaps, he thought, she didn't know such a love was possible?

Perhaps, like Noah, she had never experienced it? But no, that could not be, for she had loved Finn, or at least the man she imagined Finn to be. Noah had made very sure that she never learned the sordid truth about Finn, and he believed he succeeded-after all, Rachel had sworn not to remarry when her husband died.

So what changed her mind?

He opened his mouth to ask her and then stopped himself. It was not his business. He was here to give Rachel practical advice, not to take on the role of bridegroom finder. She would laugh at him, or mock him, and deservedly so. Rachel, he reminded himself firmly, was a clever and intelligent woman.

She knew what she wanted, and if she wanted yound Henry for her husband, who was Noah to deny her her heart's desire?

And perhaps it is her heart's desire. Perhaps, despite her protestations, she has fallen in love with him.

The thought slipped slyly into his head. He gave Rachel a searching glance. Her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes, glowed, her lips had curled into a sly little smile...she looked well, very well indeed. But was she a woman in the throes of a lusty love? Noah did not think so, but maybe that was because he didn't want to think so. He admitted to himself. There was something about believing Rachel in love with Lord Henry's son that turned him unpleasantly cold.

Rachel tried to hide her smile. Noah looked grumpy. He didn't approve of her marrying again, but he was trying to hide it. Had he and Finn been close friends, she might have understood his lack of enthusiasm. But they hadn't been. Noah must have been well aware of the lie that was Finn.

Rachel's smile faltered. Why had. He never told her? Why had he let he wallow in her grief never knowing the truth? For two years! Had Noah kept her in ignorance because he saw nothing wrong in Finn's behaviour? Or because he sought to protect her from a knowledge that would wound her?

Knowing Noah so well, Rachel favored the latter explanation. Yes, she had known him since they were children and he had been sent to live with her family, claiming some tenuous kinship with her father. "Noah has been abandones by his own mother," Rachel remembered her dad saying, as if it had been a serious fault in Noah's character. As if the abandonment had been entirely Noah's doing.

Sometimes, now, the boy that he had been still crept into her heart like a little ache, and sometimes the man he had become irritated and yet intrigued her in equal measure. Most of the time she tended not to take him too seriously-she had known him for too long-but he did offer good advice some of the time, and some of the time she was inclined to take it.

As for her possible bridegroom, Rachel admitted to herself that Noah was partially right. She had chosen Martin because he would deny her nothing, and she was well aware she could order him about. A woman would be a fool to give herself top a man who would not put her first.

But there was more to her sudden decision to remarry. Vengeance. Yes, there was that, if one could take vengeance against a husband who was dead. The fact was, Rachel felt foolish for mourning so long for a man unworthy of her grief. But over and above these things, there had grown a strong sense of lacking, of loss, of loneliness...

Yes, she was lonely.

What would Noah know of that? Rachel asked herself irritably. It was doubtful he was ever lonely. From the rumors Rachel had been privy to, and her own observations, she knew that Noah didn't lack for female companionship. He would not understand her loneliness, her taking the weight of Gunlinghorn upon her shoulders and making a success of it, and then having no one to share her triumphs with. She had no one to laugh with, weep with, no one with whom to spend the long nights, to hold her in the darkness, and to wake with in the morning light.

More than anything, though, Rachel knew she missed the companionship and the closeness she and Finn had once shared. That was what she wanted from Martin- someone to smile at her and hold her hand and lead her to the table, someone to kiss her and hold her when she was feeling low. It didn't need to be wild passion;she didn't really think she was capable of wild passion. Rachel just wanted someone who cared-or did a good job of playing the part!

She shook off her melancholy thoughts. Usually she had no time for such self-indulgence-the running of her Gunlinghorn left her with very little time to ponder her solitary state. And if she wed Martin, there would be no need to ponder it at all.

"I hope you will treat Martin with courtesy," she said, giving Noah a long, censorious look. " I do not want him to feel as if you are judgin him."

Henry cast up his eyes, and the smile he gave her was a touch mischievous. "I won't intimidate him, sweeting, if that is what you mean."

Rachel studied him a moment more, trying to make him out, but of course it was impossible. If Noah did not wish you to read his thoughts, then you couldn't. It was one of the most infuriating things about him. On the surface he was charming and easygoing, but there were hidden depths to Noah. Well, she would just have to take him at his word.

Rachel relaxed into a smile of her own." Thank you, Noah, now there was something more..."

"Oh?"

"It concerns Lord Henry, Martin's father. He sent his scribe, who is also his priest, with a request, no, a demand," Rachel's eyes glittered, "that the marriage contract include my agreement that, in the event of Martin's death, he himself would become guardian to my son and protector of Gunlinghorn.

Noah frowned. "Guardian to your son? If you were a feeble female, I suppose I would undersatnd it, but you are not. And protector of Gunlinghor? You have had no protector this far, why would he imagine you needed one?"

"That is what I ask myself," Rachel said, pleased to see he was a put out by Henry's demands as she.

"Perhaps you can discover what notions are wriggling about like worms in that man's head, for I fear he is beyond me."

Noah smiled at the image, but he still looked uneasy."He is a tough old warrior, I grant you. Perhaps he thinks all woman are weak and unable to care for their lands, and there's and end to it. Perhaps if we persuade him you are as capable and clever as you are beautiful, he wil desist."

His praise pleased her. "Well I will not agree to his terms, and there's an end to it. If I wed Martin and anything were to happen to him, I would rule alone, as I do now, until my son is old enough to see his own inheritance. I do not want interference from strangers who know nothing of Gunlinghorn, and care less."

"Is Marting Sick?" Noah was still worrying about the problem. "Maybe the father knows something you do not."

Rachel tapped her finger against her cheek. "I would not have thought so, no. He appears hale and healthy. But you just make your own judgement on the matter, Noah. I'll warrant you know more than I of the lies and tricks powerful men like to play."

Noah wondered if she meant that as a compliment. If not, then what was she implying. She was the only woman he knew who could confuse him like that. "My feeling is that Henry is simply too greedt to allow the possibility of Gunlinghor falling out of his grasp."

"But it is not in his grasp. If I marry, I will be marrying Martin."

"And Martin is a man you can rule, Rach. But think on this; if you can rule him, then so can others." He stood up. "I will bathe, and change my clothes, and see you and your bridegroom."

Rachel smiled, and then watched as he strode across the hall, calling to his man as he went. He looked very handsome, despite the dust of his journey, but then Noah had never been anything but handsome. It was ungenerous of her, she knew, but sometimes she wished he could look just a little worn or frazzled. A little less than perfect.

Henry's servant, Jesse, fell in behind him. He wore Noah's emblem on his tunic, the phoenix surrounded by flame. The tow of then vanished up the stairs into the keep's upper reaches.

Rachel knew in her heart she was glad she had asked Noah to attend her. He may be famed for his honeyed tongue at court, but she knew that in such a situation as this he would give her an honest opinion. Even if she did not agree with it, she could rely upon his to be sincere.

That was something she missed when he was not here-a man who told the truth to her. Martin tended to fatter her, telling her what she wanted to hear. And while it was very nice, and he seemed to mean it, Rachel prefferred the brutal truth.

You are as capable and clever as you are beautiful.

The words echoed in her head. Did Noah really think she was beautiful? She imagined he was used to falttering woman, and doing other things to them that made them gasp and squirm and beg for more.

And image of his naked, well muscled shoulders and back, his body almost entirely covering the female form beneath him, his hands and mouth touching, caressing, her fingers digging into his back as she felt his lips, warm and teasing, moving over the lump curve of her breast toward its centre. His hot mouth brushing her so that she gasped. His tongue circling, and then his lips closing over her and she...she...

Rachel stood up abruptly. Shocked. What on earth was she thinking? Noah's women were nothing to do with her. She was sometimes curious, yes, but for some reason just now curiosity had gotten out of hand. He cheeks felt quite hot. And it wasn't just her cheeks...

Rachel took a depe breath and pushed all such thoughts firmly out of her head. Enough. That was enough. She had Martin to dream of, hadn't she? Noah was her friend and that was all. Even to begin to imagine such a situation was dangerous and foolish and a sure way to get herself hurt.

When she was quite certain that she regained her composure, Rachel went to attend to her own appearance...

A/N: hope you guys liked it! Please review and tell me what you think! :)