FORTY-SIX
A week of wedded bliss flew by, each night as pleasurable as the last. Aleka moved into the castle as the cook and housekeeper, ordering her new staff about and running the place with an efficiency that left Ursula breathless.
Or perhaps that was Bernard, who always knew how to take her breath away.
Ursula was in the kitchen, listening to Aleka's report of what remained of their stocks in the cellar, when Berger, the boy who'd sounded the alert of Vauquelin's arrival, came running in.
"There's a riding party coming through the pass!" he exclaimed breathlessly.
"How many?" Bernard asked, looking up from shelling some nuts Ursula had never seen before. Something he'd brought from the Holy Land that he wanted to share with her, was all he'd said.
"As many as my fingers,"
