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then it could be the worse for her—Saher could expel her from the castle on any grounds whatsoever. She sighed. “So would you be.”
    Birghiva raised an amused eyebrow. She wasn’t to know that the cause of Rowena’s tiredness was the fact she’d lain awake all night watching the man who was her husband. At least he’d taken the hint and slept on the pallet she’d placed on the floor for him. She felt as if she’d lain the whole night watching the course of the moon track across the room, illuminating his body, his hair, the rise and fall of his chest. The light brought form to his face, form to her fate. She supposed she must have dozed as some point but she’d been awake and arisen before him. And she wanted to be away on her business before him. He might want time together. But she most certainly did not. She had a merchant to meet and illicit funds to receive, neither of which she wanted the king’s man to witness.
    “There,” Birghiva patted Rowena’s hair and stepped away. “That should do it.”
    Rowena fastened the silver clasp of her cloak around her, glad of the cloak’s warmth in the chill of the summer morning. “Your cloak, Birghiva. Come, we mustn’t delay.”
    Birghiva swiftly obeyed. “Aye.” She swept it around her shoulders. “Although why you don’t wait for Sir Saher, I don’t know.”
    “Because I don’t wish to be with him. He may be my husband but he is not, and never will be, my keeper.”
    She took one last look out the window at the jagged edged tower—a symbol of everything she feared—and silently pushed open the door and slipped past the solar where Saher lay.

    Rowena looked up from the clerk’s figures with satisfaction. They accounted for the goods currently being loaded onto her ship—a fine cog, bigger than the others that were tied up beside it at the quayside. A line of men carried the cargo aboard—grain, hides and wool destined for Germany—that made her estates so profitable. She inhaled the unique port smell of salt air, rank mud and the fragrant food from the nearby Inn and stalls that lined the road. She glanced at the sun. It would soon be time for her meeting with the Flemish merchant to arrange the next shipment and collect payment on the last. She was relieved she’d managed to evade Sir Saher. He would ask awkward questions, questions she couldn’t answer honestly, not if she wanted an escape route.
    “Good morning, my lady.”
    Rowena jumped at the whispered greeting, close to her ear, and blushed, as if caught red-handed, wondering if her thoughts hadn’t somehow summoned him to her. She recovered quickly and gave him a cool stare which seemed to amuse him.
    “Sir Saher! I did not expect to see you here.” She was suddenly nervous, aware of what her father’s reaction to her disobedience would have been. But, strangely, his expression was not one of anger.
    “And I didn’t expect to be here, my lady, I assure you. What I expected was to break my fast in a leisurely fashion and to be shown around the estates by my wife and steward. Not chase around the countryside after my wife.”
    “It just shows that life seldom gives us what we expect. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend.”
    She turned away and walked along the wooden planks placed on top of the mud for the men loading the cargo. She’d hoped he’d take the not-so-subtle hint and leave, but he fell into step beside her.  
    “Excellent idea. I’ll join you and you may show me the Gresham holdings while I am here. Let’s not make it a total waste of a morning.” Her heart sank. How was she going to lose Sir Saher before she met up with the merchant? “This vessel is very fine,” he indicated the large cog before them.
    “The finest.” She stopped walking and looked up at the ship proudly. “It can sail all around Cape Skagen to get to the Baltic, with no ill effect. And the fore and stern castles, which you see we’ve added, are the best defence against