"I'll not be swayed by false tears. Get up and get dressed and get out of my bedchamber. If you're discovered here—""If I'm discovered here, you'll have to marry me, if you're an honourable man."He reached for his shirt and tugged it on. "Then woe to you, my lady, for I'm not that honourable."Joscelind slowly and deliberately climbed from his bed, his sheet wrapped about her. "Who do you think you are?" she demanded as if she were the one sinned against. "You're nothing but an upstart mercenary who managed to persuade some fool of a king to give you an estate. You should be grateful I'd lower myself to sleep with you before marriage."Fists pounded on the door, and a Saxon voice called out, "My lord? Is anything amiss, my lord?"Damn her! And damn him for shouting. "No," he called out. "All is well. A bad dream.""Will you marry me?" Joscelind asked without lowering her voice.He swivelled on his heel and glared at her. "Even before this little trick of yours, you would never have been my choice.
