The battle did not happen after all—a storm prevented Tudor’s invasion, and King Richard dismissed his army. Hugh excused himself from the king"s presence and rushed home to his wife. After endless nights with only the earth to sleep upon, he closed his lids and relived their lovemaking. The memory sent his weary nerves afire. Oh, how he missed her.
He wound his charger Black Surrey"s reins round his fingers and clasped his thighs more tightly to its shanks. He couldn’t arrive home fast enough.
Four days later as Black Surrey made that last canter into Crossborough Hall’s courtyard, Hugh blinked in surprise at the crowd gathered at the main entrance.
He dismounted and a groom took the horse’s reins. He bolted to the door. “What is going on?” His servers awaited him, stunned with horror.
