Rexanne Becnel by My Gallant Enemy

splendid chamber you settled me in, Lord Barton. I found it more than comfortable. And the bath you had sent up was most refreshing.”
    “You may thank Lilliane for that. She has a way with the running of this castle. There’s not a servant who does not jump at her bidding.” The older man signaled a servant to fill Corbett’s goblet and his own. “She is a jewel is my Lily.”
    Corbett’s eyes moved easily over Lilliane and she squirmed under his casual perusal. Had he no shame? she wondered angrily. But Lord Barton could not see the disturbing gleam in Corbett’s eyes, and he continued speaking. “Why, under her firm hand everything at Orrick Castle runs smoothly.”
    Corbett’s gaze dropped to those very hands of hers and, to her chagrin, caught her in the act of rubbing the spot on her wrist where his lips had caressed. Then his eyes raised slowly to her face. “I have no doubt of what you say. The young maid she had attend to me was nothing but courteous and efficient. She saw to my needs so well that I felt quite at home. If I but knew her name I would commend her to you. But, alas, when her work was complete she quietly withdrew.” He smiled at her then, showing a devastating charm.
    “That is good, that is good.” Lord Barton beamed as he settled back in his chair. “Now, Lilliane, let us begin the meal.”
    Lilliane was too incensed with Corbett’s clever remarks to respond to her father. It was all she could do to signal the chamberlain to start the long procession of servants with their trays of food. In stony silence she watched the results of her efficient management as the meal was served to the huge company. But her mind was not on the elaborate dinner or the many guests who set to the fine meal with hungry vengeance. It was the man beside her who occupied her every thought.
    She was excruciatingly aware of his nearness. As if the heat of his body reached out to surround her own, she felt a slow warmth envelop her. Unwillingly she sent a sidelong glance toward him only to be unsettled by the frank manner in which he stared at her.
    “Do not look at me so,” she snapped in a low tone.
    “And how is it I am looking at you?” he asked as he leaned towards her.
    “You know how! As if … as if …” Lilliane floundered and she felt color stain her face.
    “As if what? As if I could hardly believe my good fortune at finding my spinster bride to be the very maid who attended me today? As if I were heartily relieved to find my bride to be so fair of face?” He reached out a hand to touch her cheek but Lilliane jerked back to avoid him.
    She sent him a quelling stare. “And if you had not …” She struggled for words. “If you had not found me so fair of face, how quickly would you have begun dallying with the maidservants?”
    “Jealous already?” He arched his scarred brow in a taunt. “If it’s our earlier meeting you refer to, I don’t see why you should fret. It was you, after all, who misled me.”
    “I misled you!” she hissed. “Why, if you hadn’t—”
    “If I hadn’t come into my room when I did you would have had time to finish searching my belongings.”
    “It’s … it’s … it’s not your room!” Lilliane sputtered.
    “Oh, but it is,” he contradicted her. “And as much as I did enjoy the bath, I still wonder what you thought to gain by disguising yourself so.”
    “It was no disguise—”
    She stopped abruptly as a servant brought a platter of meats to them. She watched in simmering anger as Sir Corbett calmly selected cuts of roast capon, slivered eel, and grilled pork for them to share from a communal plate. From another servant’s tray he added herring, raisins, and several cheeses. Then he poured a generous amount of an amber-hued wine into his goblet and offered it to her.
    But Lilliane would have none of his mocking gallantry. Nor would she honor him by sharing a plate with him as was expected of a betrothed couple. She anticipated an outburst from