Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart) (16 page)

The clashing of metal stopped. The knights appeared to be pausing to quench their thirst. Several, including her husband, removed their chain mail and tunics. The knight who had worn armour, summoned his squire to help him out of it. All the men were well built with broad muscular shoulders and arms, but ’twas only her husband who captured her interest. His skin had been kissed by the sun to the shade of burnished bronze. The light revealed every formidable indentation and curve of his muscled form and her hands longed to learn the sculpted contours of him. Just seeing him like this and reliving the experience of being drawn against the solidness of his torso made her tremble.

Rowan stood and invited one of the young squires to do battle with him. For the first time since he’d removed his shirt, he turned his back to the bower window. Lisette stifled a cry. An ugly pattern of white scars criss-crossed over his back.

Biting down hard on her lip, she tried to hold back her tears. These must be the scars inflicted upon him when Malin had forced him from Baddesley. Her heart clenched. Rowan had been sorely abused yet he had not been defeated. He had prevailed and risen to great heights despite his adversity.

When he recommenced his training, the sight of Rowan’s rippling muscles as he parried the youth’s sword thrusts made her throat dry. The scars made him no less attractive to her.

A few minutes later Lord Romsey feinted and won the assault, but not before he’d given the squire encouragement and valuable experience which would help him to earn his spurs. The king’s first knight was an excellent and patient teacher. Would he be equally as patient a lover?

Aye. She wanted her warrior husband in her bed. If she was to make anything of her future as his wife they must, in truth, be husband and wife. The problem was she didn’t know how to get him there. A man such as he, who would bow only to the king’s command, would not be vulnerable to any feminine wiles—even if she possessed any. He would be especially wary of a woman who had already betrayed him.

Once before she had been daring. The plan she had carried through with the peasant in order to make things go her way had sorely backfired. Yet patience had never been one of her strengths. ’Twasn’t in her nature to stand by and wait. Lisette had always done everything in her power to see that things were the way they should be.

’Twas God’s will for a husband and wife to share the marital bed. As the Countess of Romsey, she should be in the earl’s bed. Surely ’twas not wrong to want to consummate a union that had been blessed by the church?

Frustration ate into her. On this occasion she would have to wait. But she could at least place herself in his presence at every opportunity and hope that his desire for her would grow.

***

After his training session, Rowan strode into the great hall. He had a degree of pride at his surroundings. The room was a magnificent structure with high, vaulted ceilings of oak, a great, blazing hearth, and rich tapestries. Fresh, sweet smelling rushes lined the floor and every table and bench had been scrubbed and polished with beeswax until the wood shone. Lisette and her band of serving women had been busy throughout the entire castle, restoring it to its best.

Lisette was tireless each day in her work to serve him as his chatelaine. Several times he’d observed her from a distance. Despite being mistress of the castle she did not behave in a superior way to her servants. The respect she commanded was given freely because she treated each of her servants as individuals and asked no more of them than she was prepared to give herself. These qualities were admirable and ones he would have sought in a woman, had he considered taking a wife. He recognised now that they were qualities his former betrothed, Lady Eleanor, would never have possessed. There had been nothing humble about Eleanor. In hindsight he wondered how he had ever been attracted to her in the first place. Eleanor had worn her air of superiority about her shoulders like a cloak. Mayhap it had been a challenge to Rowan to capture her interest and affection.

The two women were very different.

He admitted grudgingly that he also admired Lisette’s honesty in her confession. Her motivation for her deed kept circling in his mind like a spinning wheel. As he sought to find forgiveness for her betrayal, he kept asking himself whether he would have been prepared to commit the same sin had he been in her position. The answer was a resounding a
ye
. After all he had committed a crime that was far worse.

That she, as a maiden, had enlisted the assistance of another man to impregnate her for the purpose of saving her own life, and that of her sister, merited some respect. Indeed he was rather in awe of her determination. The acknowledgement of her resourcefulness would have been easier earned had she not been his wife, but the wife of another man. ’Twas an unworthy thought—one that was hypocritical in the extreme.

Rowan walked across the hall intent on pouring himself some ale, and considered the bold point his wife had made on their wedding night.

Lisette had pointed out the double standard in the world in which they lived. She was expected to present to the marital bed with her virtue intact, whilst Rowan had bedded countless women. That was simply the way of the world. He was a red-blooded male and had appetites that needed to be fed. The constant temptation of his beautiful wife as she sat beside him in mass and at mealtimes wreaked havoc on his control of those appetites. There was only so much a man could bear.

At least he was not concerned that his masculinity had been in any way damaged by his recent captivity. Despite still being resolved to bring the perpetrators to justice, his initial rage and indignation had faded significantly since he’d travelled to Romsey Castle and re-established himself as a skilled warrior in his daily practice sessions with his men. As for his masculinity, he had no doubt that he would bed Lisette and achieve satisfaction for both of them. The extent of his arousal whenever he was in her proximity, assured him that his sexual urges had not been dealt any mortal blows.

Even as he told himself this, he knew the proud warrior in him would be relieved when he had finally made love to his wife.
There was still a residual part of him smarting at the violation he’d been powerless to avoid. Part of him that needed to re-assert himself as being the one in control of a physical coupling.

’Twas just as he’d reached the aumbry to retrieve the ewer of ale, that the constant subject of his thoughts descended the stairs of her bower to enter the hall. As always his wife was a vision of beauty. His wife...He had every intention that Lisette would be his wife in truth by the end of the day. She’d been ever-present in his mind since he’d awakened at cock crow. Thoughts of her had intruded on his prayers at morning mass, and even disrupted his concentration during weapons training.

Her steps across the hall toward him were more confident and purposeful than

normal. Was the sway to her womanly hips slightly exaggerated?

His blood heated as he noted the neckline of her gown was cut lower than usual. It revealed the creamy skin of her décolletage offering pure temptation. It drew his attention to the full, ripe swell of her breasts against the fabric and he thickened between his legs as he recalled the sweetness of her flesh in his mouth.

“Lord Romsey,” she greeted him with a pretty smile and curtsey.

“Countess,” he returned formally, with a twitch of his lips. She was always polite, always friendly and positive, but there was something different in her greeting. Something less apologetic and more seductive.

Blue eyes glanced up at him under the veil of long lashes as she straightened from the curtsey.

By the rood!
The look she gave him was an attempt at a flirtation.

Had his wife decided to try to seduce him? The thought both charmed him and made him wary. Lisette was no virgin but his instincts told him he could believe her story that she was no harlot either. Every instinct told him she approached him with one thing on her mind.

Ultimate pleasure
.

The slight fluttering of her eyelids almost made him laugh aloud at her attempt to use the feminine wile to attract his attention. For one who’d impressed him the last few days as being without guile, the ploy was hilariously false in the extreme. He had to work hard to keep his expression neutral.

He believed he knew exactly what she was up to. The question was, how far would she go to achieve her goal?

“Your day has been long, my lord. May I offer to pour the ale for you to quench your thirst?”

The overriding thirst he had would not be quenched with ale. The lust she stirred within him was not inflamed by her attempting to play the seductress, but merely by being within touching distance.

“Ale would be welcome. I have just come in from training in search of refreshment.”

Again she shot him a brief look from beneath her lashes before she filled a tankard.

Little vixen. She
was
flirting with him. This was unexpected and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. The brush of her fingers against his hand as she passed the tankard to him also appeared to be deliberate.

He prevented a laugh escaping by taking a long draft of the ale. She didn’t know that he had already decided to bed her that eve. ’Twould be entertaining to see just what other tactics she might employ to achieve her aim.

“You and your women have done well restoring cleanliness and order to this hall,” he told her in formal tones, pretending to be more interested in the surrounds than he was in her.

“I promised you I would be a good chatelaine, my lord. A good
wife
.”

He looked at her then as he noted the slight emphasis on the word
wife
, and saw the blush staining her cheeks. Her decision to try to capture his interest was costing her. That pleased him. ’Twas preferable that she was embarrassed by her attempts to seduce him, than that she was truly brazen. In truth, she was most charming.

“You have done something different with your hair,” he observed casually.

“A slightly different style, my lord. I hope it will gather fewer knots.’ She raised a hand to her hair. “My hair takes an age to brush out each night.”

God’s teeth! The mere thought of her brushing out the silky soft length of her long, blonde hair made him throb. The image of her sprawled naked on his bed wearing nothing but that long hair, had him shifting uncomfortably on his feet as his swollen rod jerked between his thighs.             

His words were a little husky as he suggested, “Mayhap it would not take so long this eve if I assisted you?”

Blue eyes widened with undisguised pleasure and she reached out to him in a gesture that was all nervous excitement. “Nothing would make me happier.”

He took her outstretched hands in his and pulled her a little closer. Turning each over to press a kiss against her palms, he smiled. “I think I can find some way to make you happier.”

Her pupils dilated a fraction and she took an audible breath.

For better or worse, ’twas decided. Tonight he would go to her and claim his bride.

Bending his head forward, he murmured against her ear, “A truce between us, Lisette?”

Her pulse beat rapidly in her wrist. It reminded him of the frantic fluttering of a bird’s wings. But this was a bird he would never seek to cage. Tonight he would teach her body how it could fly to the heavens and beyond.

“A truce and a new beginning, my lord.” Her words were a sincere vow and he began to hope they could find some accord in their marriage.

Her lips clung to his as he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was full of sweet promise. The taste of ripe berries filled his mouth. The feel of the fullness of her lips opening and moving willingly under his own dominated his senses. He clamoured for more. Unthinking of where they were he pulled her tight against him. Her head tilted back to give him greater access to her mouth. Arms raised up around his neck. Fingers buried themselves in his hair, massaging his scalp as she let out a series of soft little sighs. All but the need to possess her body in full was erased from his mind. He was caught up in the most heightened sensory pleasure he’d known.

‘Twas only the voices of his knights as they entered the great hall which made him break off the kiss and steer her toward the stairs which led to her bower.

At the base of the stairs he stopped and angled his broad body to shield her from sight. Her eyes were glazed, her expression dreamy.

“Retire to your bower, my lady, for you appear well and truly ravished and far more desirable than I wish any of my men to witness.”

Rowan not only wanted her to be out of the sight of his men, he needed time away from her. He needed to give his raging erection time to subside before he joined his men. About to turn away and leave the hall via another exit, he was stilled by Lisette’s hand against his chest.

The blueness of her eyes was as deep as the ocean, and just as wet. It startled him that they swam in tears, but his concern was only momentary. She gave him a tremulous smile with lips that were swollen from their kisses and he realised hers were tears of happiness.

“Thank you, my lord. Thank you for giving us a chance. I promise I will never disappoint you again.”

With that she spun on her heel and ascended the stairs to the privacy of her bower.

The image of his step-father formed in his mind. A great man. A man who had forgiven and moved forward with his life. The former baron of Baddesley had forgiven immediately. His spirit had never been shackled by bitterness and revenge.

“I cannot change the past, Rowan,” the baron had told him once. “I only have the power to change the future through forgiveness. My father taught me that forgiveness is a virtue of the brave and a sign of strength. As your father—for you are truly my son—I want you to understand that forgiveness is vital for the health and wellbeing of the soul. Just as there can be no forgiveness without love, there can be no love without forgiveness. There is nothing more important to me in all this world than the love I have for my wife and my sons. I know no stronger wish than to see each of you happy, and I hope you will teach your own sons the importance and the power of forgiveness.”