The Marriage Test by Betina Krahn

when we fought there, but the Turks had stripped the trees as they retreated. Have you ever tried one, demoiselle?”
    “I have not, sir,” she answered, instinctively lowering her eyes.
    “Nor have I. And there may be no better time than now.” He broke the piece in half, took a bite, and thrust the second piece toward her. When her mouth opened in surprise, he slipped it between her lips. The merchant gasped at his outrageous behavior and ordered him to leave the stall, but the knight only looked to his friends and laughed.
    “Here’s for your wares, spice monger.” He flipped a huge silver coin to the merchant, who caught it, glared at it, then looked up in surprise.
    “But this is—”
    “Too much, I know. I’ll take the rest in your sugared oranges.”
    Julia’s mouth watered wonderfully with the savor of the sweet-tart comfit. So this was the peel and meat of an orange, she thought, mildly astonished at the flavor and at how she had acquired this sample of it.
    Across the table of wares, her benefactor watched her reaction with amusement. He was a tall, clean-limbed younger knight with a pleasantly muscular face, wearing a tabard of crimson and white over mail. When the flustered merchant handed him a small cloth bag containing several pieces of sugared orange, he offered them immediately to Julia.
    “Thank you, kind sir, but I cannot.” She shoved her hands to her sides.
    “Oh, but you must,” the knight said in a teasing tone. “For
I
will not take it and if
you
do not, our greedy merchant here will have both my coin and your oranges. Which will only encourage his penchant for overcharging and contribute to the endangerment of his immortal soul. Hardly a Christian outcome. Won’t you agree, milady?” He continued to hold it out, until two voices from the crowd declared that if she didn’t take it, they would. When she did reach for it, he held on to it for a moment longer to make her look at him.
    “I must beg a favor, milady.” His lowered voice sent a trill of excitement through her shoulders. “That you think of me each time you enjoy a taste.”
    “What the devil is going on here?” an all-too-familiar voice roared above the gathering.
    Julia wheeled to find the count and Sir Greeve standing to the side of the stall, watching in disbelief as she accepted costly treats from a strange knight. She had sent Greeve for His Lordship’s money and he had brought His Lordship instead. If only the ground would open and swallow her whole.
    “Your Lordship!” She gave a small dip of acknowledgment and thought better of trying to get through the crowd to where he stood glowering at her. A bit of distance between them just now seemed wise. “We were just trying a wonderful new sweetmeat. Sugared oranges. From Spain.”
    “Did I or did I not send you to buy spices this day?”
    “Of course you did, milord.”
    “Then where the devil are they?” he demanded, invading the crowd and sending several onlookers scrambling out of his way.
    “They are here, milord.” She waved at the variety of samples spread upon the table while tucking the sugared oranges into the folds of her gown. “And the rest is with Sir Axel, who is watching the weighing. You will be pleased to learn that I have been quite careful with your coin.” She nodded to the outraged spice merchant, hoping to induce him into a confirming nod.
    “A veritable miser,” he grumbled.
    “And knowing how you love it”—she forced an excessively sprightly smile—“the first spice I purchased today was pepper.”
    At the mention of that spice, his face became as dark as a thundercloud. But that was only a pale forerunner of the fury that filled his countenance when he turned to face her orange-buying gallant. Julia was stunned by the drastic change in her already imposing employer; he seemed to grow a foot taller. The blood drained from her head so abruptly that she swayed.
    “Who the hell are you? And why are you interfering with my