Action. He would mount an attack on her heart with the same tenacity he'd shown against the French.

His spirits restored, Brenn began to plot tactics to woo his wife.

Chapter Seventeen.

Six-year-old Vala Brice, the oldest daughter of Joseph the shepherd, was one of Tess's constant

companions.

So Tess wasn't surprised to see the child standing on the cottage doorstep one sunny morning. What was surprising was the huge bouquet of fresh-picked wildflowers in her little hands.

"Bore da, Lady Merton," Vala said.

"Good morning," Tess replied, as anxious for the children to speak English as she was to speak Welsh.

"Yes, good morning," Vala answered, the dimples at each corner of her mouth appearing. "For you."

"Oh, Vala, these are lovely," Tess said, taking the flowers from her. She repeated the words in Welsh.

Vala giggled with delight and whispered, "From Lord Merton." She turned and took off running in the

direction of Erwynn Keep.

Tess stepped out on the front step. Sure enough, Vala ran straight to Brenn, who was busy overseeing the workmen on the house. He patted the child on the head, gave her a penny, and waved at Tess.

She didn't wave back. Instead, she went inside and firmly shut the door. Of course he would use Vala to

plead his case. But it wasn't going to work. Yes, it was hard to live this close to Brenn and ignore him,but she must. She had to shut away the feelings she'd once had-the hopes, the dreams, the need forsomeone to love.

"Those are lovely," Banon Pughe said in Welsh, giving a final stir of the cheese and beer soup she was

preparing for luncheon.

Tess dared not complain. Banon was a bit enamored of Brenn, as was almost every woman in the village.

They would interpret the flowers as some wild romantic gesture, which Tess did not.

No, he wanted something-and she knew what! But he wouldn't be returning to her bed.Since the day on the fairy bridge when he'd asked to return to the way they'd been and she'd refused,she'd walked around with a hollow feeling inside. But she couldn't let him know. Her pride wouldn't lether.

Brenn had used her. She had thought he loved her and he hadn't. She would never give him her heart again.

She intended to throw the flowers out the back bedroom window where Banon wouldn't see her actions. However, as she entered the bedroom, another knock sounded on the door.

Banon opened it and then called to Tess.

Madoc Carne stood there, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. Madoc was only four and lisped. "Lady Merton," he said. "These are for you."

He shoved the flowers toward her and then went running off toward Erwynn Keep. "That must have cost Brenn another penny," she said to herself.

"Isn't this precious?" Banon asked. "That man is mad for you. Everyone in the village knows it." She brushed her finger across the feathery Queen Anne's lace.

"I'm surprised he has time for the roofers with all his flower picking."

"Lord Merton wouldn't pick the flowers," Banon a.s.sured her and Tess knew she was right. Another crime to place beside his name! She'd throw both bouquets out.

Another knock sounded on the door. This time it was Madoc's older sister Enid. She, too, had a bouquet.

"Isn't this sweet?" Banon asked, misty-eyed.

Tess thanked Enid. Stepping outside, she stood, her arms full of flowers, and looked to Brenn. He waved at her, his teeth flashing white in the sun.

"He's pleased with himself," Tess murmured. "He probably thinks of this as another one of his games."

"What did you say, my lady?" Banon asked.

"Nothing," Tess answered. She went about her work, even though she was interrupted almost every hour with a child carrying a bouquet.

That evening when Brenn came in for dinner, he looked very pleased with himself although he didn't comment on not seeing flowers on every table and in every corner. They ate in their customary silence. After the meal, Tess retired to her room, as had become her habit. Brenn was all-male, and his presence was too uncomfortable considering her self-imposed celibacy.

He took his nightly walk to check on the property and the growing number of livestock. Besides Ace, there were now oxen, milk cows, three squealing pigs, countless chickens, and one honking goose residing in the barn.

Usually, Tess was asleep before he returned. Dancing until dawn was a thing of the past. She'd embraced country hours and felt better for it.

But this night, after she had shut her door, she leaned against it and listened. Brenn was managing the estate himself and with crops, sheep, livestock, and carpenters to mind, he was exhausted. He usually went straight to bed after making his rounds. But occasionally, he would pause in front of her door...and he did this night.

Tess held her breath. She could almost see him standing on the other side of her door. She leaned against it, flattening her hand against the old wood. Go to bed, Brenn.

He must have heard her silent command because a beat later, his footsteps crossed the floor to his room.

She covered her mouth, straining to hear even the slightest nuance of sound.

His bedroom door closed. Tess waited.

Suddenly, there was a deep masculine swear. Tess turned, her back to the door, sliding down it with silent laughter. He'd found the flowers. She stuffed them into his mattress.

Served him right! She wondered if the lavender would scent the sheets. Plus some of the flowers were p.r.i.c.kly.

She was still chuckling when she finally fell asleep.

But the next morning, when the children again delivered flowers, Tess placed them in water...and she couldn't help but notice Brenn was pleased.

Two days later, while Brenn was in Swansea to hire a fine carpenter, a horse trader drove his wagon up the drive and announced that the pretty gray filly following him on the lead rope was for the countess of Merton.

"That horse couldn't be for me," Tess said to the horse trader. "My husband didn't say anything."

The man removed his top hat and scratched his grisly-haired head. "Don't matter if he says anything or not," he said in a Yorkshire accent. "He bought this horse and sent me on the way with it. Said it was for his wife."

She walked around the fine-boned dapple gray and couldn't resist giving it a pat. In response, the doe-eyed animal pushed her hand with its nose, begging for a bit more affection.

"Your husband gave me a message," the horse trader said.

"What is it?" Tess asked.

"He said-" The trader lifted his eyes upward as if wanting to make sure he had the words exactly right. "He said the filly's name is Flower."

Banon, standing on the cottage step, giggled. She'd been the one to clean the floor of Brenn's room of flower petals, stems, and leaves. It had to have been the first time the girl had realized Brenn and Tess didn't sleep together. It didn't matter that everyone in Tess's social circle had their own bedrooms; in Banon's small society, husbands and wives shared a bed. She had been dumbstruck at the knowledge Brenn and Tess didn't. Living this close to the servants, Tess was beginning to understand how many personal matters they knew about their employers.

"And," the trader said, "he said to tell you that if you and he weren't going to do any breeding then maybe the horses would and that he was-" He pulled out a piece of paper and consulted it before reading, "-getting b.l.o.o.d.y tired of sleeping alone."

Tess prayed the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She hoped Banon's English wasn't good enough to know what had been said.

Taking Flower's halter rope, she said tartly, "Thank you. You may go on your way."

"Aye, that I will, my lady, but I almost forgot." The horse trader went around to the back of his wagon

and returned carrying a handsome saddle, a sidesaddle. It was fashioned of tooled leather and had a bridle to match. "This is a gift from Lord Merton, too. Just the thing for a dainty lady such as yourself."

"Did he tell you to say that?"

"No, I added that myself." With that, the horse trader tipped his hat and went on his way.

Tess waited until he was out of sight before saying to Banon, "You will mention this to no one." She even

repeated her words in Welsh, all the while knowing it was a lost cause. The tale of Brenn's gift would be on the lips of everyone in the village before dark tonight.

"Yes, my lady," the girl replied dutifully, but there was laughter in her voice.

Brenn should have known better than to have sent such a message with that man. For a second, Tess was angry enough to kick something but then Flower nudged her again for a pet.

She really was a pretty filly...

The second visitor Tess had while Brenn was gone was the new vicar he'd hired.

Erwynn Keep's church had sat empty since Brenn's grandfather's time, when the money for maintaining the benefice had been gambled away. It pleased Tess that Brenn was willing to take some of the money they had to fund the position. It was what an earl should do.

Vicar Rackham was new to his calling, fresh out of the seminary and ready to convert the lambs to G.o.d.

He also had a slight stutter.

"I'd been w-worried about ever f-finding a position," he confessed. "My f-family has f-few connections.

P-plus, I have th-this." Tess could well imagine it put people off. "B-but as I t-told L-Lord M-Merton, I have the calling."

"How did Lord Merton find you?" Tess asked, offering him a gla.s.s of wine. They sat in the chairs before the fire. Banon busied herself off in Brenn's bedroom, but Tess knew she eaves-dropped.

"Th-the Most R-Reverend Dobson in Swansea was aware of my situation. I'm originally from Swansea and had been l-living with my m-mother."

"And you speak Welsh?" They'd been speaking in English.

Vicar Rackham slipped easily into his native language. "I don't stutter in Welsh. Of course, that didn't help me at the university." Suddenly, Miles jumped up into his lap.

"Here now," Tess said, wishing her cat wasn't so spoiled and yet unable to stop spoiling him.