Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart) (12 page)

“But you could have asked King Henry to annul our marriage.”

“That would bring shame on your father’s name and he, at least, was a member of your family I respect. As to your fate, you would be sent back to your legal guardian or receive your punishment by the church.”

The expression of horror and trembling of her limbs at mention of her guardian demonstrated how little she wished to return to live under her guardian’s roof. The second he spoke of punishment by the church she swayed. She realised as well as he that her sin may be judged by the church as punishable by death.

Rowan had taken an oath to defend women. He would not break that oath even for this woman who’d betrayed him. He would also do this for her father, the man he respected as a commander, who had given him an opportunity to become the knight he was. The former Lord Blake had protected him the one time Rowan’s honour had lapsed. Had it not been for Lisette’s father, Rowan may well have been destined for the hangman’s noose.

“My liege commanded me to wed you. ’Tis done. You shall travel with me to Romsey Castle and be my chatelaine. Think naught to cross me again. You shall take no other lovers to your bed.”

She gave a small nod.

There was a degree of shame and gratitude in her expression, however he also recognised a mix of defence, defiance, and pride in the blue depths of her eyes. He had never met a guilty party who behaved with so little shame, so little remorse.

“I had good reason to—”

“There can be no good reason for a lady of noble birth to come to her husband impure—unless you were raped,” he cut in. Bitterness soured his mouth as he uttered the word rape, his own experiences pounding back into his conscious mind. “You have admitted that was not the case. Your willingness to fornicate outside the marriage bed brands you a harlot.”

“You wrong me!”

Rowan was incredulous. “’Tis you, my lady, who wrongs me, and I care not to hear any more about your swiving.”

“Nor I about yours!” she shot back.

A red haze of rage coloured Rowan’s vision. “I beg your pardon?”

“’Tis wrong that as my prospective husband you have doubtless fornicated with scores of women, yet I am expected to have saved my maidenhead for you!”

The woman was verily a shrew. “Hold your tongue, woman! ’Tis shamefully you speak of such things to me.”

Her lips were thin, the anger emanating from her now in palpable waves. “So, what to our marriage, my lord? Am I to take it you will have no need of me in your bed?”

“
Jesu
,” he cursed. “If I have the wish to bed a harlot I will visit the local woman and pay silver for that pleasure.”

Her cheeks reddened as his words slapped her.

He tugged the sheet from the bed with vicious ferocity and turned away from her. Fury and frustration made it necessary for him to leave her before he did something he regretted. She riled him as no woman had ever done and penetrated the cool exterior he presented to the world. The woman he’d expected to help him restore his manly confidence after his recent experiences had been an illusion, simply making him feel less secure about his judgements.

Like a bolt of lightning, the thought hit him...

“Are you with child?” he ground out as he swung back.

Just how recently had she lain with her lover?

He watched her throat move up and down as she swallowed convulsively. Fury, more violent than any he had known, threatened to erupt as he waited for her answer. Finally, jaw squared, she replied.

“I know not,” her words were little more than a whisper. She swallowed again. “’Tis too early to tell.”

Hell’s teeth!
She was fresh from her lover’s bed.

“When do you expect your womanly flow?” he demanded, his forearms cramped from the effort of keeping his fisted hands firmly by his side. “When—will—you—know?”

She blushed furiously again, her reactions so virginal yet he knew now that was not the case.

“In a sennight.”

Her lover had barely left her bed!

The realisation that he may have been cuckolded left a bitter taste in his mouth and he fought against the need to pummel his fists against something. Again he berated himself for having fallen for her deceit. He’d thought her so pure. ’Twas laughable that he had considered himself unworthy of her!

Short of riding Stormbringer out onto the battlefield and cutting down any enemy who got in his way, what he needed was a good workout on the quintain. Impossible, given that ’twas his wedding night. He had no wish to give the gossipers more to whisper about.

Jaw clenched, he turned back to his task of lifting the bar on the door, carrying the offensive sheet with him. He needed to leave this woman. He needed to do something to work off his rage and the frustration of unfulfilled lust. Tomorrow he would fight his knights straight after morning mass. He hoped they were up to the task after the festivities of the night. Mayhap one of them would beat some sense into him so he remembered the vow he’d made long ago never to trust a woman. This time he would honour that vow. No woman would deceive him again.

“Lord Rowan, what will you do to me if I am...”

“Hell’s demons, woman! Don’t ask such a question. Just pray that you are not.”

Chapter 6

“Lisette, wake up!”

At Ysabel’s urgings Lisette stirred from her deep slumber. Wishing she could be left alone to go back to sleep, she groaned as her servant drew back the heavy curtains. The brightness of daylight streamed through the window. That was unusual for she was normally an early riser. “I’ve missed the morning mass?” she asked through sleep-thickened vocal cords.

“
Oui
. Your ’usband insisted that you be left to sleep, but ’e wishes that you join ’im now to break your fast.”

Husband.

That word blasted Lisette into wakefulness as effectively as being doused by a bucket of cold water. Scrambling upright, she took in her surroundings and her mind cleared. This wasn’t any normal morning at Bridlemere. This was Collins’ keep and she was married.

‘Ysabel!’ Now she was fully awake she was confused by the maid’s presence. “I thought you had left last night with Lord Blake.”

“
Non
. Genevieve and I are to return to Bridlemere today.” Ysabel sat on the edge of the bed. “Unless, of course, you can persuade your ’usband to let us both stay with you.”

“Oh, dear Lord, I don’t think I can ever face him again let alone persuade him into anything.”

“Lisette, do not blaspheme!” came the former nursemaid’s stern rebuke. A second later her disapproval became concern. “Did ’e ’urt you? Lord Rowan was most considerate of your needs this morn, and  ’as already taken down the bridal sheet which was displayed for all to witness. The plan succeeded.”

A wave of heat crept upward from Lisette’s chest and travelled to her cheeks. “The plan did not succeed and, as I tried to tell you last eve, I had no intention of proceeding with deceiving Lord Rowan in any way.”

“What are you saying?”

“He found the pig’s blood,” she blurted in confession.

“
Mon Dieu
!” Ysabel exclaimed, obviously forgetting her rebuke about blasphemy. “But the sheets?
Sacré bleu!
” Her tone echoed of her horror. “Was ’e so rough with you ’e made you bleed?” She shook her head in incomprehension, her eyes wide and afraid. “We thought Lord Collins would be a beast. What type of man is Lord Rowan?”

Lisette hunched forward in her misery but hastened to defend Lord Romsey. “He’s a good man, Ysabel. So decent and so worthy I do not deserve him.”

“But ’ow...?”

“I was going to tell him the truth of my sins. He was so kind to me I had hoped to throw myself at his mercy, especially as he knew what fate awaited me had my marriage to Lord Collins proceeded. But, before I had a chance, he found the pig’s blood concealed in my pocket.”

The French woman covered her mouth as she inhaled a shocked breath.

“He didn’t allow me to explain, nor, praise God, did he wish to annul the marriage and hand me back to be under Lord Blake’s guardianship.” Lisette could not suppress the violent shudder that wracked her body. ’Twas only knowledge of the value of her maidenhead that had stopped Lord Blake fornicating with his own ward. If he ever realised that she had deceived him, she would pay dearly. Only the point of her dagger in his flesh would prevent him from using her as one of his whores now was she to return to Bridlemere.

Ysabel clasped Lisette’s hands in her own. “Tell me the rest,
ma pauvre fille
.”

“Lord Rowan used the pig’s blood to stain the sheet rather than betray my lack of virtue, but he would not consummate our marriage in truth. He knows I await my monthly flow, yet I know not what will become of me should I be with another’s child.”

Ysabel crossed herself three times and sent up a prayer in rapid French.

Lisette had been on her knees until the first rays of sunlight kissed the night sky farewell and warmed the earth for a new day. She’d prayed fervently that her husband would find the compassion to forgive her. Only then had she closed the curtains, crept into bed and allowed exhaustion to claim her.

“The Earl of Romsey is a truly noble knight, Ysabel.” Far more noble than she deserved. “He is intent on honouring his pledge to me as his wife, even though he knows I am far less than worthy of him.” She forced herself to stop wringing her hands together in agitation. “I am truly blessed that he is my husband and I vow I shall make him a good wife.”

“You must forgive yourself, for you did only what you thought you must do. You were not to know that Lord Collins would be brought to trial and Lord Rowan would be your ’usband.”

“You tried to tell me to wait for another solution from God, Ysabel, and I did not listen,” she cried. “I’m so sorry.”

The older woman took Lisette’s hands in her own. “I have known you all your life and what you did to save yourself and your sister is the only wrong you ’ave ever committed. I know that you are worthy of this brave knight. In time, you will prove your worthiness,
ma fille
.”

“I can only pray that you are right.” Pray and do everything she could to show the king’s first knight that she would be an asset to him as his chatelaine.

***

Romsey Castle, Ten days later

From a hill overlooking Romsey Castle, the Earl of Romsey, Lord Rowan, sat astride Stormbringer and surveyed the western wall of his new home. Progress was underway to repair damage to its western battlements and parapet walk, but very little else needed attending to. The immensity and grandeur of Romsey castle humbled him. Most satisfying was the knowledge that King Henry placed him in such high esteem, he had awarded him this title. Baddesley Keep was a mere trifle compared to Romsey Castle. Yet Rowan grew hungrier for Baddesley and thirstier for justice with each year that passed. His reasons were deeply personal. The deep bitterness and restlessness inside him would surely not abate until Baddesley was in his possession.             

When the day came to make his move against Baddesley, Rowan would have a considerable and well-trained force. It would not take long for him to restore the fitness of three score of knights who had languished in service at various neighbouring keeps. They’d presented themselves to him as men-at-arms when the news reached them that he had taken up residence at the castle. He was confident still more would join their ranks when they learned Henry’s first knight was establishing a force under his own banner.

Independent of the properties Henry had awarded him, Rowan’s purse had grown rich from the spoils of war and he could well-afford a large force of knights in his service. The men would protect his own properties and be called upon to serve king and country in Henry’s next march into Normandy.

With a keen warrior’s experience, Rowan checked the castle over for weaknesses. Romsey was a formidable fortress with the protection of a moat around the outer curtain wall. The drawbridge was in good repair, the portcullis at the barbican sturdy, and the gatehouse well-maintained. The inner gate, which led to the lower bailey, may need some structural reinforcement, but the keep, chapel, barracks and stables were all sound.

Inside the keep, Lisette had been busy organising the women to their tasks and had begun an inventory of all the castle’s stores and belongings.

Lisette.

The mere thought of her conjured up the image of beauty he wished to suppress. Hers was a tainted beauty and he would do well to remember it. Each day he treated her with respect in public, as was her right as his wife. In private...Well, he made sure there were very few private moments they shared. He did not wish to be alone with her. It would be all too easy to forget her transgressions and give in to the mad lust that pounded straight to his manhood at the mere sighting of her.

Stormbringer shifted restlessly, as if sensing his mood.

Over a sennight had passed and each morn, after mass, he had asked her the same question. Each day she had informed him that her monthly courses had not arrived. The devil was laughing at him and perhaps this was payment for Rowan’s crime against God. Rowan became more certain that his bride carried her lover’s child.

Jealousy had made him depart Collins’ Keep a mere day and a half after his wedding. He’d temporarily abandoned his plans to bring justice to those who had held him captive. His determination to see those who had wronged him punished was outweighed by the acid jealousy that scoured his insides.

When he’d been at Collins’ Keep, he had inwardly regarded each knight he’d met with a deep-seated suspicion and smouldering jealousy. He’d kept wondering about the man who had claimed the maidenhead which should have been his. Even as he’d walked among the peasants he’d found himself taking each man’s measure. He’d wondered whether Lisette’s heart had been won and her virtue taken by a peasant man. The decision to travel on to Romsey was more to do with spiriting Lisette far away from her former lover than with an eagerness to inspect his new seat. As he had told her, he would not tolerate a continuation of her affair.