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“I’m surprised. I thought you would have known such a leader in the rebellion.”

Had Hugh seen something in her face? Or was it simply logic?

She feigned irritation. “I didn’t know them all.” Twitching her shoulder away from his touch, she buried it beneath the furs and did her best to change the subject. “Is that why you married me? To manage your new possessions?”

In a flat tone, he answered, “It is a sound plan, is it not?”

It was a sound plan. He’d never owned property. She’d managed Robin’s, and successfully, too. And it certainly reduced the previous night to its rightful dimensions. “Then I must—”

“Wharton already gathered your belongings from your room at the abbey and brought them here in a sack.”

She withered at the thought of Wharton pawing through the few pathetic things she’d managed to amass since she’d come to the abbey. But some of the items were important, and she asked, “Did he bring everything?”

“All of it,” Hugh confirmed. “Although he might as well have burned it.”

Appalled, she sat up. “Nay. Say you will not!”

The men at the table cleared their throats as Hugh lunged to cover her. As if she would be so stupid to show herself to them! She held a thin blanket before her and glared at Hugh, and he glared back. Jerking his head, he commanded, “Out!”

She wondered briefly if he meant her, then stools tumbled and men fled the tent, shutting the flap behind them.

Enough light leaked through gaps in the tent pieces for her to see Hugh’s stern features. “Tell me why I shouldn’t burn that pathetic pile of drab clothing and worn blankets,” he demanded.

Tell him? Not likely. “Those are my possessions,” she said firmly.

“I’m your husband,” he answered. “They’re now my possessions.” He slipped his thumb along the ridge of her collarbone. “As are you, my lady Roxford.”

He had an expression on his face she recognized, for she’d seen it often last night before the candle burned down and left them in darkness. She caught his hand as it wandered down her chest. “I submit to your dictate obediently, as a wife should, and will discard most of my previous possessions, as my lord demands. I ask only that you allow me to pick out two things before you burn all else.”

His hand turned in hers, and his fingers tickled her palm. “Make me.”

“Make you?”

“Enthrall me. Enchant me. Make me do your bidding.”

She hated playing games like this. She’d done it before with the highest of hopes. She’d given everything, used every wile, and when she was done. Robin had praised her and promised to do as she begged, then he had forgotten or given the favor to another, better lover. No, she wouldn’t give in to Hugh’s challenge. “I’m not an enchantress,” she said gruffly.

“Ah, but you are.” He leaned into her, crowding her back.

She refused to fall easily as she’d done last night. She’d made everything too easy last night, but he’d taken her by surprise. She’d been too long without a lover. Or was it that he was too good to resist?

Her reward for constraint was a kiss bestowed upon the shoulder he’d earlier caressed. “See how you enchant me?” he whispered. “Even after a night such as last night, the sight of you stirs me.”

She tried to inject a prosaic note into the rapidly heating atmosphere of the tent. “You’ll get used to me soon enough.”

“Will I?” He tried to twitch away the blanket, but she held on tight. “I have no experience with this. Do all men weary of their brides?”

“Sooner or later.” His hands crept around to her back. As his fingers slid into the hair at the base of her skull, she fought to keep her sense of reality. “Probably sooner.” But she said it with a sigh, and she let him ease her back on the pillow.

“Then they are bride and groom no longer.” He massaged her scalp. “But husband and wife.”

“And he’s unfaithful.”

“Not I, my lady.” He leaned over her, an elbow planted on each side of her head, and he pleasured her with the slow intoxication of relaxation. “I pledged my troth of you, and I always keep my vows.”

Eyes closed, she laughed weakly.

“Don’t you believe me?”