“When you touch me,” she confessed softly, “I feel things I never thought to feel. I don’t know if you might feel them, too. What I do know is that it doesn’t matter. You belong here, with lords and ladies and the king, and I belong in France, working at a jeweler’s bench.” An inscrutable mask settled on Colin’s features. He hesitated, then slowly stood and brushed the grass off his breeches.
