A/N: I'm so glad that you guys liked the previous chapter! Sorry for the late update, so here's another one for you!

Chapter 2.

...

Martin, son of Lord Henry, arrived on a snowy horse at the head of a troop of grim-faced men. He was dressed in a fine blue woollen tunic, with soft, dark leather breeches. The spurs attached to his boot-heels shone like stars. He was a good-looking young man, with eyes of a deep melancholy brown. As Rachel came to greet him, the gaze he turned upon her was more like a hound's toward its master than a future bridegroom's toward his bride.

Noah sighed inwardly. If Rachel wanted a man who was her slave, then she had chosen well. While he stood back and waited to be introduced, Martim was busy kissing her fingers and whispering preposterous compliments to her, his puppy dog eyes full of meaning. Jesse, who was standing behind Noah, murmured something derogatory under his breath.

"Now, now, Jesse," Noah said in mocking reprimand. " We cannot all be men of intelligence. And the lady seems to be enjoying his attention." Indeed, Rachel was quite flushed. "Perhaps its a lesson for you and me-be not clever or skilled if you want to succeed with the ladies. They much prefer stupid men."

"I need no help when it comes to ladies, my lord," Jesse replied with some arrogance.

Noah turned and looked him up and down. Jesse was a medium sized man, much smaller than Noah. But with his rugged good looks, women seemed to cluster about him. Even Santana, when she thought Noah wasn't watching. Maybe Jesse was right, and he did not need instruction from Martin. Or Noah.

"Lord Noah!" Rachel had finally managed to fight free of her aspiring bridegroom, and now her gaze was fastened meaningfully upon him. It was time for him to play his part, outwardly at least. But, as Noah strolled forward, full of his usual smiling confidence, he felt anything but amiable toward Martin, the son of Henry.

"Lord Martin," Rachel introduced him, "this is my oldest and dearest friend, Lord Noah of Montevoy."

Martin looked up. His eys widened at the sight of Noah, and then as quickly narrowed. There was no mistaking the gleam of jealousy in them. He tightened his mouth. In a heartbeat he had turned from a handsome charming young man into a small boy who has had something taken from him and doesn't know whether to scream or cry.

Was Martin really so lacking in trust for Rachel that he would be jealous of and "old friend"?

Or was it just that Noah's reputation with women had followed him all the way to Gunlinghorn? Still, Noah did not allow his own smile to falter-he was doing this to please Rachel, not Martin. He gritted his teeth and made his brief bow and spoke of his pleasure at meeting Martin. Then, for good measure, he added, " As Lady Rachel said, she and I are very old friends." Stressing the word.

Martin's demeanor brightened a little, although he still didn't appear all too comfortable in Noah's presence.

"L-Lord Noah," he stammered. "I have heard of you, of course. Your name is well known throughout the whole land."

Noah raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? You flatter me, Lord Martin."

"No, no I do not! You are know f-far and w-wide. My father has spoken of you. Indeed, once at court, when h-he claimed a parcel of land to the west, you-" but Martin came to an abrupt halt. His face flushed a deep and ugly red, and he glanced away, swallowing audibly. "That is, he-he met you once, in London, at court. That is all I-I meant to say."

Jesse snorted rudely, turning it into a cough. Noah ignored him. "Of course you did," he said evenly. "And I do remember your father." and the matter you speak of, he thought, but did not say it aloud. Martin already looked as if he was about to explode with embarrassment, or terror, or both.

Rachel appeared confused, as well as she might. Her glance slid over Noah's innocent expression and narrowed, as if she blamed him for Martin's state-most unfait in Noah's opinion. Then with a brilliant, dtermined smile, she took Martin's arm and, speaking softly to him, led him within the keep.

Noah followed, his smile genuine and no longer polite. He remembered the incident at the court well enough, although he had forgotten it until Martin reminded him.

The father had claimed some land that was not due to him, and the king had asked Noah what he thought. Noah had said he had seen the land himself and he joked that he wouldn't mind having it, and the king, more as a rebuff to Lord Henry's presumption than to reward Noah, had promptly given it to him. Henry had left in a rage, swearing vengeance.

He must have thought better of it, for the vengeance had never eventuated, but it was clearly still on his, and his son's mind. Being acquainted with the truculent and bitter Lord Henry, Noah could well imagine that the slight, and the loss of the land, had never been allowed to be forgotten.

The meal was succulent and well prepared, and there was even a juggler to add to the occasion. Rachel was excelling herself to please her would-be bridegroom, and young Martin seemed willing and eager to be pleased. Now and then he would cast a nervous glance in Noah's direction, and his stammer was more pronounced when he spoke to him, but otherwise the occasion went off without further incident.

Noah was able to converse with some of Rachel's household, her ladies and steward, and Sir Arthur Abrahams, the knight in charge of her garrison.

Gunlinghorn impressed him tonight, with its elegance and grandeur, as it had never done before. It was the sort of place he might have dreamed of living in, as a child. An abandond child, he reminded himself wryly. A son of minor nobility, Noah had been technically an orphan by the age of five, when his devout mother had decided to enter a religious house and spend het remaining years within its walls.

She had wanted to be a nun from girlhood but had been prevented by her family and forced to marry. With her husband dead and a son she looked upon as the product of a sin rather than her own flesh and blood, she had followed her inclination.

Alone and abandoned, Noah had been passed from relative to relative, no matter hpw tenuous the comnection. He had lived in many different castles and keeps throughout Normandy, reliant upon others for his well-being -or lack of.

He had looked upon it as an adventure, suitable training for the tough knight that he one day planned to become. And then he had been taken to a castle like no other. He had been drawn into the whole with no hope of escape. Noah had been thirteem when he was released from that hell, and he had taken the chance he had been given.

Like a phoenix he had risen anew from ashes and four years later had been knighted for hos bravery in a small skirmish. He had not looked back.

Yes, he was proud of what he had become, the life he had made for himself, the man he had molded from the boy. He prefered the present. The past was full of dark corners. Memories he did not revisit often. Shadowy recollections he did not dwell upon.

Much better to remember when Ivan the Bastard had set out to conquer England, although he had claimed at the time it was righfully his. Whatever the legality of the matter, Noah had known it was his opportunity to do good. He saw the he could use Ivan's ambition as a lever to rasie himself higher.

So it had been. He'd been there with Ivan at Hastings and had helped him to victory. Ever since that day, the kimg had enjoyed his company and found his clever tongue useful. And he had certainly been well rewarded for his efforts.

Not that Noah was complacent. He was well aware that his circumstamces could change quicker than King Schuester's words. His position would always be precarious,and he could never be too careful. One of the reasons why, despite his trust in Blaine, his secomd in command, he preferred not to be away from court for too long. Allegiances shifted, favorites fell, wheels turned full circle, and Noah did not intend to be one of the casualties.

Maybe I shouldn't have come, Noah thought now, uneasily. There were stirrings at court and about England ; some of the Anglo-Normam barons were intent upon securing more land than they deserved. It had been Noah's job to keep an eye out on these rumors and plots, and to put a stop to them if it became necessary. Blaine would send word if matters become dire, he knew, and yet...

Bur Rachel had asked for him, and because she was his friend, and he wanted to please her, he had come. Although, he thought grimly, if pleasing her meant allowimg her to wed a weak fool like Martin, then he might do better to displease her. Was that what she really wanted? A husband who would gaze at her as if he was witless and do exactly as she told him? Then Martin was perfect for her.

Besides, who was Noah to judge?

He, himself, had never looked for more than a compliment mind aand body when seeking a new mistress., and that could not be much different for a wife. Certainly the last thing he had ever wanted was for his heart to be engaged. Santana was pretty and amiable, and she cared no more for him than he cared for her.

The perfect situation, surely? Why would Rachel be any different in her choices, and why should Noah want her to be?

"Well?" Rachel demanded, when at least Martin was gone and they ewere alone again. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, and a strand of hair hang loose and laid against her temple. She looked like a young girl again, rather than a mature woman who had been wed amd borne a son. Noah had an urge to reach out and brush the stramd away, he squeezed his hand into a fist and stopped himself.

Suddenly touching Rachel did not seem like a good idea.

"Well?" she asked again, impatient with him now. "What do you think of Martin?"

"What do I think of Martin?" Noah pretended to ponder. "Does it matter what I think of him?"

Rachel poked her finger into his arm. "Stop teasing me, Noah, I want to know tour opinion of my future husband."

"Very well.I think that he is smitten with you. Rachel, and as long as his love lasts, he will be easy enough to, manage." That was the truth as Noah saw it.

Rachel, who had begun to smile, froze. "'As long as it lasts'?"

"No one lasts forever, but some lasts longer than others. I don't know whether the fact he is jealous of me is a good sign or a bad sign. Maybe good."

"Jealous!" Rachel declared, brown eyes narrowing. "What do you mean Noah? Martin has no reason to be jealous."

"Didn't you see the way he looked at me when we met? He was jealous, Rachel. He thought you and I are..."

Her eyes narrowed even more, like a cat, and Noah bit his lip on the less than polite word he was about to say. "Let's just say Rach, that he believes we are far more than friends."

Rachel broke into laughter. "You cannot be serious! You and me Noah! I will have to explain to Martin that if there are two people in all of England least likely to ne lovers, then its you and me!"

For some reason Noah did not feel amused. What was so amusing anyway? What was wrong with him? Was he less of a man than Martin? Noah felt the stirrings of a strange anger deep inside himself. He was a better man than that cow-eyed youth, and he knew it!

Why did Rachel find the notion of him and her so laughable? It was enough to make him want to prove her mistaken.

Noah inwardly shook his head at his own shortsightedness. Such a step would be both foolish and cruel. He was not a cruel man, and he was certainly not a fool. If Rachel had hurt his pride, then it had been unintentional. She was his freind. Surely havimg such a friend was far, far better than making her his lover for a short time, ant then, inevitably, having nothing.

But just for an instant, a heavenly vision came to him. Of Rachel, her creamy skin uncovered and her brown hair loose about her lush body. Her brown eyes, sleepy with desire, lifted to his and her arms held out toward him. Just for an instant, and then it was gone, and Noah could breath again.

Rachel was combing her hair. The long, heavy tresses fell over her back and shoulders,curling up at the ends, shorter strands tickling her face and neck. She often thought her hair dull, but the firelight brought out the many different colors to be found in it-gold and mahogany. They gleamed and meshed, making the dull glorius.

She thought of Martin and smiled. He might seem young, but he would mature with time and some careful tutoring from her. Noah was right. Although she had not liked to admit it, Martin was uncomfortably jealous of other men. That, Rachel decided, was the fault of his youth, and of his overbearing father.

With time his confidence would grow, and he would no longer be quite so insecure. He was not Finn, she reminded himself. He did not have Finn's easy self confidence. But then she did not want another Finn. She had loved her husband, mourned him, and he had betrayed her. Men like Finn, men like Noah, found it too easy to, manipulate a woman's gentle heart and willing body. She wanted no more of them. Rachel took a deep breath.

Wasn't that one of the reasons why she was marrying Martin? To take revenge upon Finn's memory? But that was her secret. Not even Noah must know the true extent of her hurt-he would not understand. Noah neber allowed emotion to interfere with business, and what was marriage but a business contract.

She drew her comb through her hair, remembering Noah's face when she had laughed at the idea of him and her. She should not have laughed. It had been impolite of her. But the thought of them together struck her as so bizarre that it was amusing. They were so totally unsuited, so unlikely a couple! For a moment there he had looked...hurt, before his good humor had reasserted itself.

That was one of the wonderful things about Noah, he was so even tempered that very little upset him. He had been a sweet boy, and he had grown into a amiable man.

Rachel kmew she was lucky to have Noah as her friend. And so much better to be his friend than his lover. She had always felt a little sorry for his women, although they did not appear to resent the experience. There were always lots more of them willing to take the place of those who had gone before.

Is he really such a good lover?

The curious thought had hardly entered her mind when it was followed by an image of Noah. Golden skin and dark eyes, rising above her, his handsomeness all over her. She shook her head, uncomfortable with herself. No,no, not again, that would never do! Noah was her friend, one of her few friends, and she did not want to ruin such a fortunate friendship.

Once, when they were hardly more than children, they had kissed once afternoon in a meadow, and it had been very sweet, but that was long ago. Such things were best forgotten. If she had really hurt his feelings by laughing at him, then she would make it up tomorrow. She would take him out riding! Although the vale of Gunlinghorn and the surrounding hills were white with snow, the ride would be a treat. Noah had always loved to ride around Gunlinghorn.

Rachel was well aware that he would already be missing the court, with its verbal maze of rumor and gossip, the constant stimulation of his mind and his senses. Noah thrived upon such things, they were his life. It was important that while he was here, she keep him entertained with all the persuits he enjoyed.

Yes, tomorrow they would go riding. Just the two of them.

The Gunlonghorn countryside was white, the fields were covered in a crisp layer of snow, the water meadows and marshes half-frozen, while ice and snow hung heavy from the bare branches of the trees in the woods. Beyond the cliffs to the south,the sea was gray and sullen, while somr brave gulls floated in a sky that was just as gray.

Rachel ad risen early, washing and dressing in her warmest gown and fur-lined boots, and hurried down to the hall.

Noah, who had already risen, as she had known he would be, smiled at her over his mug of ale and morning meal of bread and cheese. Rachel hesitated to reach him. That was odd. Why had she never noticed before how strong and white his teeth were? And how little lines by his eyes creased up so attractively ehen he smiled?

For a moment her thoughts were confused, and she found herself wondering what she had been about to say, but she quickly shook off the strangeness. It wasn't as if she had never seen Noah before. And yet, just for a moment there, he had been like a stranger. A handsome, desirable stranger.

"I thought we could go riding this morning, Noah," Rachel said, a little breathlessly, striving for normality. "I have not bern out for weeks, and although it will be cold, I believe the weather will hold for a few hours."

Noah's smile broadened. "I would enjoy that very much, Rach." He hesitated. His smile remained but lost its ease. " Martin would be coming?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, not Martin. We will go together, Noah, just you and me."

Noah nodded then hesitated, as if debating something, before launching into what sounded like a prepared speech. "I have been thinking about your marriage, Rachel. The king may not approve an allience between you amd Martin. Mayne you should wait until he gets back from Normandy and see what-"

Rachel held up her hand. "No, Noah. Not today. We will talk about , my marriage, but not today. I intend to forget about Martin and Henry, all of them, amd enjoy myself. Please," she added.

Noah paused. It was true, he had been mulling over her marriage during the night, and the more he mulled, the less happy he became at the idea of his Rachel aligning herseld with that family. And perhaps more importantly, the less happy he believee kimg Schuester would be. But she was right, such things could wait until later.

"Of course," he said genially and rose to his feet. "Let us ride together."

"Mama mama can I come?"

The boy runnimg toward then had hair that curled around his head and it was the same color as Rachel's. He came to a halt against her skirts, buffeting her, but she laughed and hugged him to her. What is his name thought Noah. What was Rachel's son's name?

"Christopher, you grow stronger everyday," Rachel pretended to scold, solving the problem for him.

Christopher gave her a broad grin and then turned his gaze on Noah. There was a slightly wary look in his eyes now, as if he was well aware that Noah did not willingly seek the company of children. Noah had a suspicion that Rachel herself may have told her son not to bother their guest, and he was grateful.

"Good morning Christopher," he said in a falsely jovial voice. The boy bowed carefully. "Lord Noah, I pray you are well."

Noah's lips twitched despite himself, while Rachel ben and murmured something in the boy's ear. For a moment Christopher looked mulish, but then with a sigh he nodded. A plump young woman waited anxiously waited farther down the hall. Clearly waiting for Christopher. He turne and dragged his feet, returning the way he had come but not before he had cast another glance at Noah. This time the look in the boy's eyes wwas pleading and Noah had an uncharacteristic urge to call him back, to say that of course he could go with them.

He stifled it. Boys like Christopher reminded him too much of his own young and innocent self.

He supposed he had been that innocent, once. Or nearly so. Life had sometimes been difficult, and he had been much alone, but he had been brave and strong and determined to make the most of his opportunities. How was he to know he would fall in love with such evil creatures?

Rachel's warm fingers brushed against his, startling him. "Come then," she said gently, almost as if she had read his mind. "Let us go while the weather holds."

The horses had not been exercised for some time, and they were eager as Noah and Rachel to be out in the brisk morning air. For a while they simply rode,Jesse and the troop of men-at-arms spread out behind them. When they reached the top of Gunlinghorn Hill, they stopped, breathless and gazed at the view before them.

On such a crisp and cold day, it was possible to see for many miles. Noah looked with satisfaction upon the rich vale of Gunlinghorn, with its wide river and meadows and, overlooking it all, the stark bulk of the protecting castle. This may not be London, but, to Noah's mind, it was the next best thing. If he had to live in the country, if he was forced to become a live-in landlord, then he would choose Gunlinghorn.

Then he remembered. Soon Martin, with his brown, eye, might be master here, and Noah would no longer feel welcome. The idea of that sulky boy at Gunlinghorn was suddenly so repugnant to Noah that he determined that if the marriage went ahead, he would never visit again. With that realisation came another. Noah had never understood just how much he would miss Gunlinghorn. And Rachel.

He glanced at her, wondering if she was thinking the same thing, if she realized this might be one of their last days together. But Rachel was smiling as she gazed over her domain, her thoughts clearly very distant from his own. Rachel caught his eye, and there was a wildness in hers he remembered from when they were children.

"Let's ride to the sea," she cried and, with a laugh, kicked her horse into a gallop. She flew down the hillside, and into the woods, the hood of her fur-lined cloak falling back from her hair. She didn't look back, she just expected him to follow her. And so he would; so he alwyas did. With a laugh of his own, Noah set off in hot persuit.

They spent the next few hours simply enjoying themselves, in a manner they had not done for years. They reached the sea at Gunlinghorn Harbor, the village that straddled the mouth of the river where it spewed into the sea. Rachel received revenue from the trading boats that came and went from her harbor, and because it was relatively safe, though small, anchorage along an often dangerous coastline, she was never short of vessels putting in.

Dwellings and hostelries had grown up around the timber wharf, catering to the seamen, merchants and traders, with their packhorses, who came to carry the goods to market elsewhere.

"My lord." Jesse nodded toward one particular building, where a sign painted with the image of a black dog was propped against the wall. "My father's sister lives here. Her name is Caroline. Have I your permisiion to visit her? If you wish"-he glanced at Rachel-"she will serve us food and ale. I have heard this inn is well known for its good service."

Noah raised a brow. "I did not know you had blood relations here, Jesse."

"My father was a builder of boats, my lord, and lived here for a time under the reign of the english king Edward, called the Confessor. My father's sister married and stayed after he returned to Normandy."

"Thank you, Jesse," Rachel said. "I would be glad to partake of your aunt's hospitality. I know Caroline, and you are right, this inn has a fine reputation."

Jessy's aunt Caroline was a small, plump woman with wiry dark hair, and when she hugged Jesse, he head only came to his armpits. She fed them well, and Rachel sat by the fire, warming herself, and enjoying the informality. It was not often that she allowed herself a day away from the endless tasks that befell her at Gunlinghorn.

She glanced across at Noah and found him watching her in an oddly intent manner, his eyes half closes. Almost at once he smiled, sharing the moment.

"It is long since we sat together like this,"he said. "As I recall, your mother would never let you sit idle for long. You had learn to be a great lady."

"And you a brave kinight," she retorted.

"She did not like me," Noah said matter-of-factly."She was afraid you would grow too fond of me."

"All the girls were in love with you, Noah. It was the fault of your handsome face."

She was teasing him, and he laughed, but there was something at the back of his eyes. Something she did not recognize.

"But you did not, did you?" He said at last. "Fall in love with me, I mean. You made me run errands for you, and fetch and carry. And I was only willing to do so."

"You could have told me Noah."

He smiled at her again, and his smile made her feel hot.

"I'd never tell you, Rach, you know that. I am yours, body and soul, to do with as you please."

The picture he made for her was not at all calming. Suddenly she was too close to the fire, or she had eaten to much of Caroline's pastries. She felt uncomfortable and feverish. She wanted to wriggle on her bench and fan herself with her hand.

Rachel found herself looking at him, really looking at him. His eyes, his wide mouth, his masculine throat, his broad chest and hips and his strong legs, stretched out before him. His hands, resting elegantly upon his lap. And she found herself wondering what it would feel like to have those hands on her bare skin.

Luckily, before the rogue thought could progress any further, their cozy interlude was interrupted.

"My lady?" One of the men-at-arms was standing before her, a note of urgency in his voice. "A boat has run aground on a sandbar inside the river mouth. They are asking for help to pull her off."

"What boat is this?" Noah asked with interest.

"From Bruges, my lord. They say they are carrying wine and oil and some bolts of cloth. We can attach ropes from the shore and pull her free. The tide is on the turn, so that will make things easier. Have we your permission to help?"

Noah opened his mouth and then stopped at looked at Rachel. She could see the quick remembrance in his eyes. This was her harbor, her village, her river. The decision was hers. His consideration pleased her-not many men would have remembered that it was not their place to give orders, and if they had, not many men would have cared.

"Of course you must help," she said briskly. "Use all the men-at-arms and as many of the villagers you can find."

The soldier left, and Noah rose to his feet, stretching and held out his hand to Rachel. "Come we had best take a look at this boat from the Bruges."

Outside the air was cold, and the wind tossed their cloaks and made Rachel catch her breath. A craft lay stranded upon a narrow sandbar, tipped to one side and being washed about by the incoming tide. The boat was rather squat, with a combination of deck and tarpaulin to keep her cargo safe and dry. Several crew members were busy tossing roped to the men upon the shore, while Jesse pointed and shouted and generally took charge.

"I doubt we are needed here,"Noah said, glancing at Rachel's huddled form. "Are you cold?"

Rachel nodded her head. "I am, but its not that. I have much to do. I think its time for me to return to the castle, Noah. I can ride alone, I have done it before. Its perfectly safe. Finn long ago rid our lands of any brigands."

"I will come with you. Jesse can manage here."

The swell of pleasure she felt at his offer seemed excessive, and Rachel forced her voice into more moderate tones. What was happening to her? She had been alone with Noah before, many times. This agitation was new.

Rachel glanced at the sky. There was dark clouds edging to the north, but they seemed far away. She considered danger and dismissed it in her eagerness to ride with Noah.

"Very well. We can ride east, along the cliffs. You will like that Noah. It is wild and dangerous place."

"Then we will enjoy them together," Noah said with a smile that made his eyes bluer than ever. " We will be wild and dangerous together, Rach."

And why, Rachel thought, as Noah hlped her onto her mount, did that sound like a threat?...

...Or a promise...

A/N: lemme know what you think!