The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) (17 page)

Read The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) Online

Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

Tags: #Medieval, #Fiction, #Romance

BOOK: The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3)
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“Why not?”

“Because you are to be his wife. I do not want you repeating to him what I have told you.”

She cocked her head, unable to decide if he had just insulted her. “I would not repeat anything to him that you told me,” she said. “I am not a silly young woman who cannot keep my lips shut.”

He shook his head. “I did not mean it that way,” he said. “I simply meant that the burden of such knowledge might be difficult for you to bear when you do not even know the man.”

“Do
you
know him?”

“A little.”

“And based upon what you know of him, would you allow
your
daughter to marry him?”

He shook his head, slowly and deliberately. “Nay, my lady, I would not.”

“Why?”

He sighed faintly, drawing in a deep and thoughtful breath before releasing it. “What I know of du Ponte, I do not like,” he finally said. “Let me see if I can give you an example – last year, there was a tournament in Shaftesbury, not far from here. Du Ponte competed in it, as did many of us, but his tactics were underhanded and when he lost a bout in the joust, he not only challenged the field marshals, but the man he was competing against. He threatened everyone because he felt he had been unfairly treated when the truth was that he had been treated most fairly in the situation. He was caught using a joust pole that had been banned for years – a spear-tipped vehicle that could have easily killed a man. He had it camouflaged. When he was discovered, he accused everyone of acting unfairly against him. I had never seen a grown man throw a temper tantrum up until that time.”

Sophina was listening closely, horror mounting at what she was being told. “Then what the earl told me inside really was the truth,” she said. “St. Michael du Ponte is a hated man.”

Lucien nodded faintly. “We do not have many dealings with him, for good reason.”

Sophina simply shook her head, sickened at what she was hearing. Perhaps there was some small part of her that had hoped the earl had been exaggerating, but hearing Lucien’s story, she could see that her hope had been futile. But in his answer, she also felt a measure of frustration.

“When I asked you if you knew St. Michael du Ponte, why did you not tell me this?” she asked softly. “Why did you not tell me what you knew?”

“What would you have me say?”

“The truth!”

Lucien scratched his forehead. There was a good deal on his mind, not the least of which was the lady’s situation with du Ponte. He had been planning out what he was going to say to her for the past few hours but now that he stood in front of her, he was almost embarrassed to say what was on his mind. Yet, he knew he had to.

“Will you walk with me, my lady?” he asked quietly. “I have a need to speak with you further. Let us stretch our legs beneath this night sky.”

Sophina nodded her head for lack of a better reply and Lucien reached out, taking her elbow politely. Beneath the moonlight, they began to walk towards the torch-lit kitchen yard.

“You would like the truth,” he said softly, almost rhetorically. It sounded like he was talking to himself. “There is a good deal of truth to go around, my lady. Where shall I start? Mayhap I should start with a question – are you expecting to continue on to Gillingham Castle even after what you have been told?”

She looked at him, sharply. “Would you?”

“Nay.”

“Nor do I.”

He glanced at her as they strolled across the soft earth. “Then what do you intend to do?”

Her gaze lingered on him a moment before averting her eyes, looking at her feet as they walked. “Strangely enough, I have been thinking on that very subject,” she said quietly. “My father does not want me or my daughter returned. He has a new wife he supports above me and a home cannot have two queens. Believe me when I tell you that he was more than happy to be rid of me and even though this trip was meant for St. Michael to inspect me before accepting my father’s offer of marriage, I know in my heart that I was never going home again. Whether or not St. Michael approves, my father will not accept me home.”

Lucien’s brow furrowed. “Why would you say that?” he asked. “Surely he would want his daughter home if a potential husband does not approve. Where else would you go?”

She laughed bitterly. “That is a very good question,” she said. “As I said, I was pondering that dilemma this very moment, right before you found me. I have decided that I am not going to continue on to Gillingham. I will not put my daughter in that situation, having a stepfather who is, from what I have heard, a terrible man. Furthermore, I am not going home. That leaves little options for me. However, I have many skills that would be of great value to someone who is looking for a chatelaine or a nurse, and I would like to ask for your assistance in finding a placement for my services. I am money-wise, I can run a kitchen and house most efficiently, I can sew, and I can also nurse the sick and young. I am very good at that. So, you see, I am not entirely worthless. I do have some value. I am hoping you can help me find a place where I will be most useful. You have been so kind to me already that I feel terrible for asking for this great additional kindness from you, but I hope you will consider it. I do not know where else to turn.”

By the time she was finished, Lucien was smiling faintly at her. They had reached the wall of the kitchen yard with its old iron gate and Lucien came to a halt.

“Strange,” he muttered. “I was thinking today how much I need a chatelaine. I have a majordomo, but he is simply an old soldier who is not much good in the field any longer. He runs my house and kitchens because he is old and gruff and bossy, but I was never so much in need of a chatelaine than today when I had four female visitors delivered to my front door. Having a majordomo tend to women’s needs is most improper.”

Sophina looked at him, surprised and puzzled. “But…,” she sputtered, stopped, and started again. “But you are betrothed to Lady Juno. She will be your chatelaine when you marry. That will solve your problem.”

Lucien shook his head, some of his humor leaving him. “There will be no marriage,” he said flatly. “I am not agreeable to marriage, at least not to that child. That last thing I need is a wife who is young enough to be my daughter.”

Sophina struggled to ignore the joy in her heart in hearing the news. Just because he didn’t want to marry Juno didn’t mean that he wanted to marry someone else… her, for example. Nay, it didn’t mean that at all, but he had just said he needed her as a chatelaine. Would she willingly be one for him even if they were not married?

She was more willing to do that than she had been willing to do anything in her life, ever.

“Does Lady Juno know?” she asked softly, realizing that her hands were practically quivering with excitement.

He shook his head. “Unless her father has told her, I would suspect she does not,” he replied. “But her father was a drunken mess this afternoon, so it is possible he has not even thought to tell her yet.”

“So she still believes the marriage will proceed?”

“More than likely.”

Sophina thought on that, inherently feeling some pity for the polite young woman. “I spent some time with Lady Juno this afternoon,” she said. “She is a kind and thoughtful girl. She did not strike me as silly or flighty.”

He grunted in disapproval. “Be that is it may, I have no intention of marrying her,” he said. “Her betrothal was a gift from Henry who thought to reward me for my years of service and sacrifice, but I do not see this marriage as a reward. I see it as a prison. Moreover, I do not wish to be related to Holderness; the man is an arrogant boor. Therefore, there will be no marriage.”

The more he spoke, the giddier Sophina felt and the harder it was to control it. “I see,” she said, pretending to be neutral about it. “So you need a chatelaine, do you? Would you like to hear of my qualifications again?”

He shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “You have already told me your skills and I do not believe you would lie to me. If you did, I would find out soon enough and I am sure you would not take that chance. That being said, I really did not have the role of chatelaine in mind for you.”

Sophina was deeply and instantly embarrassed. “Oh,” she said, unable to look at him. “I… I apologize, then. I thought you meant… well, it does not matter what I thought. I hope you will still consider helping me find a position, then. It is either that or I will have to commit myself and my daughter to the nearest convent, for we have nowhere else to go.”

He could see that she was disappointed that he had denied needing her as a chatelaine; it was in everything about her – her tone, her movements. And in that disappointment, his heart began to sing. Was it possible she truly wanted to be his chatelaine? Did she think enough of him to want to stay at Spelthorne? God, he could only hope.

“You did not let me finish,” he said. “I did not have the role of chatelaine in mind for you for several reasons – first, you technically belong to du Ponte until he either accepts you or rejects you. Correct?”

She nodded glumly. “Correct.”

“Yet you have told me you have no intention of completing your journey to Gillingham, which means you are rejecting him before he rejects you. Am I correct again?”

“You are.”

“But, as a woman, you really have no say in the matter, do you?”

She shook her head. “None at all, but I still will not go to him.”

Lucien’s gaze lingered on her lowered head. “Then I must write your father and tell him,” he said. “He must understand that you have no intention of marrying du Ponte. He must further understand that I am offering for your hand and would make a far better husband to you than du Ponte ever could. That is why I said I had not considered you for the role of chatelaine – I have considered you for the role as my wife. Would this be of interest to you?”

Sophina’s head snapped up and she looked at him, wide-eyed, in the moonlight. She started to speak but she was so overcome that she choked on her words and ended up coughing. As Lucien grinned, amused by her reaction, she struggled to catch her breath.


Me?
” she gasped. “
You
want to marry
me
?”

He nodded. “If you will have me.”

She still didn’t believe him. “But… but you have only just met me!”

“That is true, but I know what my instincts are telling me. They are never wrong.”

She stared at him, a hand going to her head in utter astonishment. “Are you
sincere
, my lord?”

“I have never been more sincere about anything in my life.”

Sophina’s jaw dropped; she couldn’t help it. She had no idea what to say but, suddenly, she was flying at him, her arms going around his neck and her lips on his. It was a spur of the moment reaction, something that hadn’t even crossed her mind until she was aloft in his big arms, his lips devouring hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her body. It was heaven, it was bliss, it was sheer delight. It was a kiss unlike anything she had ever known. But as soon as she realized what she had done, she was terribly embarrassed and struggled to pull away from him.

“Where are you going?” he murmured, his lips against her cheek. “You cannot throw yourself at me like that and expect me to let you go so easily.”

Truth was, she didn’t want him to let her go so easily, either. Confused, embarrassed, but wildly happy just the same, she ended up huddling against him as he nuzzled her neck and jaw. The contact between them, flesh to flesh, had all of the subtlety of a raging fire. There were sparks between them and smoke from scorched skin; everything heated and carnal was flaming up between them. The more he touched her, the more she quivered.

“I am sorry,” she breathed. “I did not mean to do that. It was entirely improper of me.”

He laughed low in his throat. “I care not,” he said. “I would have said all of that much earlier today if I thought you’d have the same reaction.”

She could feel his hot breath against her flesh and it caused her to tremble violently. “I should not have done it,” she whispered.

“Do you regret it?”

She tried to shake her head but his hands were on her, preventing it. “Nay,” she breathed. “But we are not formally betrothed. A young lady who believes she is still your intended bride is in the hall. If we were to be seen….”

She had a point. With a final gentle kiss to her cheek, Lucien reluctantly let her go, disappointed when she moved out of arm’s length. She appeared to be having trouble standing, her knees weak from their encounter. He, too, was having much the same reaction; as he looked at her, his heart was beating so strong, so fast, that he could hardly catch his breath.

“Please tell me that this means you will consider my marriage offer,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “I realize we have only just met, as you have said, but I knew within the first few hours of knowing you that you were the woman I wanted to marry. Look at us, Sophina… we are not young and new. We have lived a good deal of our lives and we have the children and the battle scars to prove it. We are two of a kind, people in the autumn years of life, who understand things from a perspective of having lived and having been loved. I was loved, once, and I loved in return. When she died, something went out of me that I thought I would never regain. But when I saw you today and came to know you a little, that which I thought had died is now threatening to come back to life. Does that make any sense or am I rambling like a madman?”

Sophina could hardly believe what she was hearing. It was a reflection of everything she had been thinking, of secrets and thoughts long-buried in her heart. Was it really true that Lucien had the same dreams and aspirations that she did?

“If you are mad, then let us be mad together,” she said softly. “I, too, knew love. I was very much loved by a kind and noble man. When my husband died, my life was over. Up until a few moments ago, I still believed it to be over. You are correct when you say that we are no longer young and idealistic. We are lived many years and understand life more than most. I should like to get to know a man who has thoughts and hopes and ideas as you seem to have. If you will share them with me, I should like to share mine with you.”

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