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but neither noticed. The swirling mist enclosed them in their own world, quite separate from the one beyond.

Chapter Five
    The dawn broke clear and cold. Robert sat his hunter stiffly. The alaunt, bigger and stronger than his greyhounds, was at his side, for they were in search of wild boar today. The hunting-thane had gone ahead and Robert awaited his word, ignoring the other members of the assembled hunting party. He had succumbed to weakness, and he despised himself for it. Just knowing she was there made the spot between his shoulders tighten, though her presence — or absence — should have been a matter of complete indifference to him. That it was not annoyed him beyond measure.
    He had hunted with his falcon just a few mornings before. Imma had gone for a ride, and he had encountered her at the stable. “You’re a falconer, my lord!” she’d exclaimed, and he had immediately suffered the debility he often experienced in her presence, with the breath whooshing out of his lungs all at once. It had taken him a moment to remember to breathe, and then he’d managed a gruff confirmation.
    “I have never seen a falcon hunt,” she said, her eyes shining, and he knew what she wanted, and the bright sharp longing pierced him. What if she might be delighted by the prospect of his company? What if that made her eyes sparkle?
    He had turned away, not before seeing the pleasure on her face turn to chagrin. Despite his hunting success that morning, the alarm he had felt over his feelings had quite ruined his day. Still, he refused to ask her to go falcon hunting with him. To do so would mean that he desired, even required, her companionship, and he would not admit to that. Instead he arranged this hunting party and gave word that he welcomed any of the women of his household to join his small group of retainers. That was not the same as going hunting with Imma, he assured himself. Not at all.
    A few of them had indeed accepted his invitation and joined the hunt this morning. Elizabeth, of course, never missed a chance, though she was as incompetent as she was enthusiastic with her bow. He had to assign a stable boy to oversee her actions and prevent her from accidentally shooting a member of the hunting party instead of the game they sought. Tilly, on the other hand, never attended and wasn’t present today. A weaver whose name he couldn’t call to mind accompanied her husband.
    And Imma.
    She sat astride her horse, not the gray palfrey she usually rode when she went about with Jacob, but a hunter from Robert’s stable, her back straight, face eager, her hair confined in a long black plait down her back. He hated the plait, though he supposed it was a sensible way for her to wear her hair for a hunt. He wanted to see her dark curls loose. He wanted them to spill across his arm. He wanted to tangle his fingers in them.
    The worn and travel-stained cloak she wore wasn’t attractive either. He wanted to see the curve of her shoulder, and the roundness of her arm, and everything about her today thwarted him.
    “My lord.” The hunting-thane’s voice broke into Robert’s thoughts. The thane thrust the hunting horn toward Robert, filled with the spoor of the wild boar they tracked. Robert took the horn and examined the spoor, then nodded.
    “Lead on,” he said, urging his horse forward.
    The group headed toward Cerne Abbas, in the opposite direction of Glastonbury; they had left the island of Athelney itself in order to pursue the hunt. The hunting-thane rode ahead with the dogs and their handlers. As they rode, Robert directed the hunting party to arrange themselves in the best way to kill the boar when it was flushed from its lair, reminding them to take special care. He had seen a wild boar kill more than one man. Resolutely not looking at Imma, he wished he had given a different command to the hunting-thane this morning. If Imma were hurt while under his care —
    His stable boys had informed him that she was adequate