The Saxon Bride (The Norman Conquest Series) by Ashley York

may be the keeper of my own keys."
    His face flushed as he mumbled over the objection. "But. ..I don't know...I need to..."
    She narrowed her eyes, her jaw tight. "I said my lord has ordered it."
    Despite her determined stance, past instances such as these had hurriedly erupted into major confrontations. Without knowing John's exact whereabouts, Rowena felt her confidence dissipating.
    "Be quick about it, man." Peter came up from behind Rowena, presumably from the kitchen area and stood beside her. His tone brooked no questions.
    Rowena breathed a sigh of relief when the steward fumbled for the keys tied around his waist, unable to get the things removed quickly enough.
    The steward tried to hand the keys first to Peter but he shook his head , arms crossed about his chest. With great reluctance he placed them in Rowena's waiting palm. She tipped her head dismissively and the man departed. She glanced at Peter, a smile on her lips but found him frowning down at her. She swallowed before she spoke.
    "I thank you for your assistance."
    "It is the least John would expect of me."
    "And yet I sense reluctance from you."
    Peter bowed his head. "My apologies, my lady. That you should sense my reluctance speaks of my own shortcomings. Certainly not a reflection of how you deserve to be treated."
    Something about the way he said the words gave her pause. John had told him of her encounters with the guards before their wedding. Did the man doubt her as well?
    "Did you have something you wished to ask me?" she asked.
    A slight curl to his lips made him look much younger. "My apologies again, my lady. I have...had questions about the situation here. However, I do not believe our lord would appreciate me broaching the subject with you."
    Her ire raised, she fought down the urge to defend herself. She had just won a huge battle and this was a moot point. She knew what happened. Whether or not they chose to believe her was irrelevant and not worth the struggle. She began to move but his gentle hand on her arm stopped her.
    "I would like you to know that my lord does not deal idly with any threat to what is his. ”
    Here we go again. Yes, he owned her.
    "He would give his dying breath to defend you. Do not doubt it."
    Peter turned toward the gate and continued out toward the stables.
    Her breath caught in her throat. John would defend her with his life? Perhaps her husband was not her owner but her protective knight. Saxon or Norman, the difference had yet to be determined.
    Rowena continued on to the closets and outbuilding that held an abundance of supplies. Along with the inventory of the stores and cleaning out what had been left to rot, she found all well-kept under lock and key. It was clear, however, that Arthur's interest was not in keeping up with the tally and even the armory was ill-kept.
    Too proud to ask directly the whereabouts of her husband, it wasn't until before the evening meal two days later, exhausted but happy that the Great Hall again smelled of clean rushes and fall lavender, that Rowena learned her husband had left the castle proper. Retreating to the privacy of her bedchamber rather than dine alone again, she felt the loss of knowing that her anticipation of the last few days had been for naught. He would not be surprising her, finding her setting his castle to rights because he was not here. The despair overcame her when she realized she missed his company. Had she once again been abandoned?
    "No, my lady, it is not the same. Your husband is seeing to the villagers. He is fulfilling the requirements of his station. That is all." Joan tried to reassure her.
    Rowena pouted at the table in her room . "He didn't even say goodbye."
    "Are you sure he was not trying to say goodbye the last time you saw him?"
    Rowena raised an indignant brow at Joan. "I know exactly what he was trying to do."
    Joan looked down at her sewing before she finally spoke again. "Did you not want to?" Her voice was quiet in the room. The burning