Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart) (23 page)

BOOK: Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart)
9.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Heat stole over her cheeks at the knowledge she was so very easy for him to read. Embarrassment had her turning away.

“You need rest more than anything else right now,” he told her, “and I intend to see you completely recovered and your child safe.”

The tender, caring words made her forget her embarrassment and turn toward him. Happiness fizzed through her and light-headedness claimed her again. How fortunate she was that this man was her husband. Her protector.

He stayed at her side for a long time, stroking her forehead and cheek with one hand while his other hand held hers. ’Twas only when her breathing deepened and she was drifting into sleep that she was aware of him kneeling by the bed. She heard him praying quietly.

“Heavenly Father, pray watch over my wife and her child and provide me with the guidance to serve you as you command. I have fought bravely in service of my king to reclaim my honour. Weeks ago I was unable to defend myself. Now, the main street of the village of Romsey has been destroyed and my wife was so very nearly lost to me. I’m no longer sure I am worthy of my title. Mayhap these events are punishment for the single crime I committed against you long ago.” His troubled sigh was heavy with remorse. “I have no wish to fight with my true father, but...”

As hard as she tried to focus on Rowan’s words, she couldn’t make sense of anything he was saying. The seriousness of his tone suggested his prayer was important. He sounded burdened. Repentant? Frowning slightly, she tried to fathom his words. Something about a crime he had committed against God long ago? She lost the battle to decipher any of it as her head and shoulder throbbed mercilessly and sleep finally claimed her.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

 

 

 

Two days later Rowan rose from his seat in the great hall as Lisette entered to join him in breaking her fast. If her injuries still troubled her she gave no sign of it as she moved with fluid grace toward their table on the dais. Even though her stubborn, wilful streak troubled him, he was beginning to care for her far more than he had expected to. He found pleasure in anticipating the time they spent together.

While he wouldn’t admit it to her for fear that she might be encouraged to repeat her rash actions, he greatly admired the bravery and selflessness she had shown in the fire. He was in no doubt that it had been her caring and sense of responsibility for the welfare of others—and not just sheer ignorance of the risks involved—that had led her to placing herself in danger.

“You appear well, my lady.” That was a gross understatement for his wife was a picture of radiant beauty. Her hair shone like a golden halo about her head and her vivid blue eyes sparked with life and intelligence. Calling his attention like a siren’s song, he noted the natural red of her lips and bloom of her cheeks had been restored with her rest. “Do you feel recovered?”

“Aye, my lord.” Her head inclined regally. “Apart from the bruise on my shoulder, which is still tender, and a small awareness of the gash that heals on my scalp, I am quite well enough to visit the village with you today. I will be pleased to be by your side as much as I am loath to witness the damage wrought by the attack.”

She took her seat beside him and a servant brought her a trencher and goblet. There was a sense of rightness in her being at his side.

“I pray you will forgive me for my absence. There has been much to occupy me in the village since the fire. The destruction of property was immense.”

“Thank God there was no loss of life. My maid has told me that reconstruction of several dwellings is already underway.” She reached for bread.

“Aye. All have pulled together and are working hard. Much has already been accomplished and I am grateful I have the purse to fund such reconstruction immediately.”

“I understand and forgive your absence,” she told him quietly. “However I have missed you sorely while I have been confined to my chamber. I have missed your company and conversation during the day and longed for your nearness during the night.”

He was taken aback by her bold statement then reminded himself that his wife was no stranger to plain speaking. Covering her hand with his, he lowered his voice so his words carried to her privately. “I have been grateful for the extra responsibilities that keep me from you, for I know your body needed time to recover from your ordeal. In truth I did not trust myself to stay lest my desire for you break free from the tight leash which I have imposed upon it to hold it in check.”

The satisfied smile she sent him was one which recognised the sensual power she held over him. Instantly he wondered whether he had left himself too exposed with his confession. Hadn’t he vowed never to give a woman any power over him again? ’Twas a thought that jolted him, for he knew that too much caring left him vulnerable and he would never leave himself vulnerable to emotional pain again. ’Twas necessary for him to withdraw—to create a little space between them.

“I believe that provided you are careful with my shoulder, I am quite hale and hearty enough for you to untie the leash that has kept you away from me.”

God’s teeth! The mere suggestion almost had him choking on his beverage.

“I thank you for your honesty, Rowan,” she continued, completely unaware of the way she’d stirred his manhood and the level of discomfort he now had in his braies. “I confess I have wondered whether you were still angry with me and whether that was the reason for your brief and formal visits each morning and eve to enquire after my well-being.”

If she only knew the true extent of what those brief visits had cost him. She was living, breathing temptation.

Distance.

He needed to create emotional distance.

“I will not say that my anger has completely abated, my lady. I hope that you will trust and abide by my future instructions and know that at all times I will consider your safety a priority.”

Planting a quick kiss to the back of her hand, he released it in order to finish eating.

“I am told a banner from the House of Winchester was found just outside Romsey Village,” she ventured, conveniently ignoring his last statement and deftly changing the subject.

Rowan’s hand stilled half-way to his mouth, then he set his goblet down. “’Tis truth.”

“You think your natural father was responsible for the fire in Romsey?”

Nay. He didn’t believe it, yet the evidence was irrefutable. “An archer wearing the Winchester tunic was seen firing flaming arrows into the buildings. I also have the tattered remains of a Winchester banner in my possession.”

“Your tone tells me you do not believe the evidence before you.”

She took a small bite of the bread and the movement of her mouth distracted him for a second before he responded.  “A banner left outside the village is too obvious. It appeared to have been caught in trees as the rider passed but this is unlikely given there was no hurried pursuit of the attackers. The archer is said to have stood completely out in the open, in no way trying to remain unseen.”

“You think the attack was made to appear as though ’twas an act of hostility by the house of Winchester?”

“Aye. I think it is highly likely. The Duke has no motive to attack me.” He took a long sip from his goblet. “He has never publicly recognised me as his son, nor has he denied the fact that has been well known since the death of my mother. He has never taken any overt interest in me and he knows I am favoured by Henry. Any unprovoked move against me would go badly for him at Henry’s court despite his strong power base there. Besides, Henry thinks highly of him, and I trust the king’s judgement implicitly.”

Henry had chosen Lisette for him to wife. Rowan was no longer ill-pleased with Henry’s decision. He frowned slightly again. How easy ’twas to think favourably about his wife. He must not allow Lisette any purchase on his heart.

“What will you do?”

The question focussed him back to their conversation. His jaw set firm. “I will stay here for the next day or two to assist with the reconstruction. Then I will ride to Winchester and meet the man who spawned me. I will confront him with the evidence and assess his reaction.”

She placed her hand on his forearm. “How do you feel about meeting your father?”

The tone of empathy in her voice made him bristle defensively. “I am not a child, Lisette.” He realised he spoke too harshly but still needed to shake off her touch. He did not need her concern regarding his non-existent relationship with the Duke of Winchester.

Was she trying to reach him on a deep personal level? Trying to get him to depend on her for comfort? This was exactly the sort of closeness he feared.  ’Twas his own fault. He had already opened up to her about his past more than he should have. It had been wrong of him to tell her so much. Although she had a place in his life, he did not need her as his confidant. ’Twas only her services as his chatelaine and the comfort of her body that he required.

“For all intents and purposes the former Baron Baddesley was my father,” he continued firmly and shifted a little to increase the physical space between them. “I know Winchester by reputation and from what I have heard the Duke is a man whom I could respect. I foresee no difficulties.” If she was hurt by the wall he erected between them, she covered it with an impassive expression.

“And you—a man who has confessed he sees trouble in everything?”

Despite himself he smiled at the flippant tone she used to quote his own words back to him.

She nibbled at a bit more bread before she ventured, “Family is important, Rowan.”

“Spoken like someone who is missing her younger sister dearly.” He would speak about her family but not his own.

“’Tis true. I do miss Genevieve and Ysabel.” She replaced the remaining bread on her trencher. “Have you had word yet as to when they will come?”

“No response has been forthcoming from your former guardian. I had private business to attend to in Southampton and planned to ride via Bridlemere en route. The fire has delayed me and now I must prioritise my journey to Winchester over my business in Southampton. But I understand your concerns for Genevieve’s well-being. By this afternoon, I should be able to spare a party of knights to ride to Bridlemere to fetch Genevieve. I will have Sir Bradford attend to this. Lord Blake will understand in no uncertain terms that I mean to assume her guardianship. I have already sent a petition to the king regarding the matter.”

Happiness lit her features. “I cannot thank you enough, my lord.”

He nodded. “Knowing that Genevieve will be safely away from Lord Blake, is thanks enough.” ’Twas no use. He could not keep the distance between them when she beamed up at him. Intent on bestowing a brief kiss on her lips, he lowered his head toward her. He stopped and wrenched his head away when the doors to the hall burst open.

All conversation ceased and activity stopped as Sir Bradford entered and strode urgently toward the dais.

Now that the doors to the hall were open and all conversation and activity had ceased, the sound of the herald’s horn filtered clearly in to the room from his station high above the ramparts. ’Twas a warning signal Rowan had implemented since the village fire. Tension pervaded the atmosphere of the hall. All sat forward as they awaited the news from the captain of the knights.

“My Lord Romsey,” Sir Bradford gave a quick, stiff nod of acknowledgement, “A large contingent of knights approaches the castle at speed. They carry the Winchester banner.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

 

 

 

 

Those gathered in the great hall reacted to Sir Bradford’s announcement with a mixture of anxious murmurs, cries of disbelief and angry mutterings. All knew that an archer wearing the Winchester colours had been seen shooting the flaming arrows that had started the village fire.

Greatly alarmed that Romsey may come under imminent attack, Lisette looked quickly at Rowan to gauge his response. His features remained impassive. To any who regarded him from the hall, it would appear that he was unperturbed by the news. Seated next to him, Lisette noted the slight tensing of Rowan’s strong frame and saw his grip tighten on the beech handle of his eating knife. Automatically she placed her hand under the table onto his thigh, unsure whether she was trying to give or to seek comfort.             

Projecting calm, Rowan placed his knife on his trencher slowly. “Define
large contingent
.” He sought clarification from his highest ranking knight in a normal conversational tone.

“I would estimate about four score, my lord.”

The murmurs that echoed around the hall were reflective of the people’s apprehension. All of them, including Lisette, turned to Rowan for leadership.

Rowan continued to appear unworried by this news. With almost exaggerated slowness, he raised his goblet and took a long drink.

Lisette couldn’t refrain from asking quietly, “Rowan, are we about to be attacked?”

“The Duke would have sent far more men had he been intent on attacking the castle,” he replied confidently, and for her ears alone, as he set the goblet down. “However, this show of strength indicates serious intent and underlines the forces he has at his disposal. Winchester is certainly flexing his muscles.”

She tried to refrain from biting her lip. ’Twas important that she, too, appeared calm in front of their people. “First an attack on the village and now he’s sending his forces here? What do you think this is about?” she whispered.

“I’m certain ’twill be revealed soon enough.”

He gave her hand a small squeeze of reassurance but it did naught to settle the apprehension roiling in her stomach. As he stood, he addressed those who had been partaking of their meal. “Finish breaking your fast and go about your normal duties,” he instructed. “We know not the reason for this visit from Winchester. Be there any cause for concern you will know of it in due course.”

Other books

Jim Bowie by Robert E. Hollmann
The White Angel Murder by Victor Methos
More Deaths Than One by Marjorie Eccles
Time Travel: A History by James Gleick
Getting Air by Dan Gutman
The Girl in the Road by Monica Byrne
Hollow Moon by Steph Bennion