Her Banished Knight's Redemption--The follow-up to award-winning story the Rebel Heiress and the Knight

by Melissa Oliver

  Ah...

  This was precisely what he had been worried about...this. Unwelcome questions and intrusion into his life—his very private and solitary life—the moment his guard was down. Yes, he minded very much being asked questions he had no wish to answer. And this was what would inevitably happen since he was Lady Isabel’s only companion. Questions, answers, revelations and judgement.

  God, but the judgement...and all under the guise of getting to know one another. Well, he didn’t want it, even if he had been glad that he could still make a woman smile. Look what that had earned him—her curiosity.

  Isabel touched the sleeve of his tunic gently. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’

  His eyes fell to her fingers still on his sleeve, which quickly fell away. She then pushed a golden honeyed tendril of hair behind her ear and smoothed her sheer veil.

  He swallowed. ‘You didn’t, Lady Isabel.’

  And even more unsettling was the growing awareness of her, which was damned inconvenient at best and altogether embarrassing at worst. He was supposed to escort the lady back to England. Not notice her or the colour of her hair in a wholly inappropriate way. What the hell was wrong with him?

  He would do well not to notice Lady Isabel de Clancey in any way. Will had to remind himself that Lady Isabel was not for the likes of him—a bastard and a reprobate knight. He might now be pardoned, with his honour restored, because of the information he had gathered for the Crown, but he could never forgive himself for what had happened at the siege at Portchester Castle. The fault for which had been entirely his and the result was self-loathing and guilt. Yes, Will was destined to live alone in self-imposed exile for the remainder of his worthless life—and even that was far more than his due.

  He got up abruptly and shrugged, hoping he looked composed when in fact he felt the opposite. ‘I said what I did because I’m no longer a knight, my lady. Now if you’re ready, we should leave.’

  * * *

  They had continued on their journey for many long hours, again in silence, and this time Isabel was far more aware of the awkwardness between them. All because of the strange exchange when they’d stopped for a short repast. Isabel had been lost in her own musings ever since they had left home, reflecting once again on the circumstance in which she had found herself. Apart from the rather constant suggestion that she would require a handmaiden—someone to monitor her every move—it had been a perfectly uneventful, humdrum morning’s journey.

  The welcome relief of light banter with a companion who was affable, not to mention very easy on the eye, had been unexpectantly pleasant. Yet the moment Isabel had innocuously asked about his past, the man clammed up completely, making it very clear that he did not invite any questions about it, not in any capacity. Which was a shame as she had hoped to get to know Sir William more and learn a little about his life.

  But it was more than that. The moment she had touched the sleeve of his tunic, he seemed altered and had gazed at her as though...as though he was aware of her in a manner very different than before. But that could not be. Isabel must have imagined it.

  ‘Lady Isabel, about my reaction earlier...’ Will looked over in her direction. ‘I apologise. The truth is that I find it difficult looking back at my old life.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Yes, I can imagine. And to answer your question—I was indeed once a knight of the realm, much like your friend Ralph, if my assumption there is correct.’

  Yes, she had been very happy for his assistance regarding Ralph. She gave herself a mental shake. ‘You were once? Does that mean you’re no longer a knight?’

  ‘I no longer claim that role, no,’ he said bitterly. ‘Everything I once owned that put price to that title has now been sold or given away.’

  ‘Except for your sword.’

  He looked surprised that she had noticed. ‘Except for my sword,’ he repeated.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘I hadn’t expected that your life had been any easier than mine, Ralph’s or anyone else’s for that matter, Sir William. These have been and still are difficult times, but may I say something?’

  ‘By all means.’

  She pulled the reins, bringing her young horse to a stop and turned her head. ‘Do not allow the past to define your future. I speak from experience.’

  He brought his horse to a halt and watched her for a moment without saying anything, which emboldened her to say more. ‘Since I now have to accept this imposed destiny, or whatever you may call it, Sir William, I must also accept that the past has finally caught up with me...and it will for you, too. Not today and not necessarily tomorrow, but some day. Even if you have sold off remnants of your past, there’s no getting away from it.’

  He frowned, as though he were absorbing her words, before he continued riding on. After some time, he finally spoke. ‘May I ask something of you? Could you call me “William,” or, better still, just “Will”? I could never abide Sir William, even when I was a fully-fledged knight.’

  ‘By the same token, I insist you call me Isabel. Much like you, I really cannot get used to being a lady.’

  He raised a brow. ‘But you will have to, won’t you, my lady?’

  She chuckled. ‘Yes, soon, but until then I’m just plain Isabel, which is also difficult to get used to, since I have been “Adela” for so—’ She stopped, frowning. ‘Is anything the matter... Will?’ She noticed his shaking hand as he drew it through his hair. ‘You’re not ill?’

  ‘Not at all. Shall we continue?’

  Her brows furrowed, wondering what on earth was wrong with him.

  ‘Yes,’ she said absently as they resumed riding further along the undulating path through the woodland in companionable silence, broken now and again by small observations.

  Eventually they emerged into a clearing overlooking a valley. Twilight had settled by now, with the last vestiges of sunshine blending with the dusky night sky.

  Isabel blinked several times before her eyes widened in surprise as she watched in wonder at the scene in the basin valley below. There was a cacophony of colour and noise. Merriment and revelry.

  Her eyes scanned the spectacle. ‘What do you think that is?’ She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice.

  ‘Something that we should probably avoid, I imagine.’

  She turned to meet his eyes, almost pleading. ‘And what is that?’

  ‘A particular brand of jollity.’

  Well, that sounded incredibly tempting, didn’t it? After the strain of the last few days, with the changes Will’s reappearance in her life had brought and the even bigger challenges still to come, this particular brand of jollity was mayhap exactly what was needed. Just once, just for tonight.

  He had been watching her, shaking his head. ‘Oh, God, I can see what you’re thinking and it’s a definite no.’

  ‘Please,’ she implored. ‘Couldn’t we go?’

  He rubbed his forehead as she continued to make her case.

  ‘It might be just the sort of thing we could both do with.’

  She waited, chewing the inside of her cheek, as Will deliberated the best course of action.

  ‘Since you must know best, I’ll to listen to your counsel...but what do you think?’

  He exhaled slowly. ‘In all honesty, I think it best we keep away from large crowds, especially one that is as bawdy as I expect that one to be.’ He inclined his head in the direction below. ‘I’m afraid it won’t be appropriate, my lady.’

  Her shoulders slumped. ‘You’re right, it probably won’t be.’

  She pulled the reins of the horse to move it away in the opposite direction.

  ‘But then again,’ he said from somewhere behind, ‘I don’t see why we shouldn’t partake a little in the festivities.’

  She turned the horse back round
. ‘A little could go a long way.’

  He grinned and she smiled back. He was so ridiculously attractive when he did that, his eyes twinkling with mischief and amusement.

  ‘So, Plain Isabel, shall we?’

  ‘I think so, Just Will.’

  He held her gaze and for the first time in a long while she felt a sense of carefree excitement bubbling up inside her.

  Chapter Five

  Oh, the joys of this particular brand of jollity were immense indeed! Especially for someone like Isabel. It was an inspired idea to forget everything for just one night—a reprieve from who she was and would soon become with all that expectancy. Besides, this was the sort of experience that seldom came her way and, even though this would be of a short duration, Isabel was going to enjoy it. She would enjoy tonight.

  There were so many things to see, so much to sample and enjoy, that she didn’t know where to look or what she should do first. Isabel had never really been exposed to anything like these festivities before—a wonderfully vibrant cacophony, a delight for the senses. There were long lines of trestle tables with meats, cheeses, plump berries, sweet breads and pastry from local villages, as well as kegs of ale and crisp cider from the north and sweet, fruity Aquitaine wine from the south.

  Music blared, revellers danced in one area while troupes of troubadours with jongleurs and even death-defying fire-eaters were staged in another. The atmosphere of this colourful festival marked it as so different from anything she had ever seen before. Certainly different from anything in St Jean de Cole. The rowdy crowd was so congenial, welcoming and friendly that Isabel flitted from one place to another with a huge grin on her face as Will tried to keep up with her.

  ‘Isn’t this marvellous?’

  ‘It is certainly something,’ Will said wryly, crossing his arms over his broad chest as she bit her lip, choosing to ignore his lack of enthusiasm.

  Jollity indeed!

  ‘Ah, mademoiselle, sample this here wine from the most superior vineyard in all the Kingdom of Aquitaine.’ A man pressed a cup into her hand of the ruby-coloured nectar with a wonderfully delicious scent. She took a big gulp and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Oh, and it was! It tasted of a deep, rich platter of summer berries and grapes.

  ‘Mmm, messere, this is indeed very fine.’

  ‘Well then have some more, cherie, have some more.’ The man sloshed more of the vintage into her cup.

  Will stepped forward and muttered in her ear, ‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough?’

  She waved her hand, as if she were swatting an annoying fly. ‘Nonsense, Will. Where is your sense of fun?’

  ‘I left it back in England.’ He paid the vendor and started to guide Isabel away by her elbow. ‘Now come along.’

  ‘Don’t be such a miser.’ She twisted around as someone else shoved slivers of more delicious delicacies of local saucisson and ale in front of her.

  ‘Oh, Will, have some of this...oh, my goodness, the ale is divine.’

  ‘Thank you, but, no. I need my wits about me.’

  Isabel tilted her head and studied him. ‘Oh, but who would need their wits at a time like this and in such a place as this?’

  She continued to sample the fine food and delicious wine, hoping that it would somehow fill the emptiness she felt even in a place such as this. An emptiness that was far from being satisfied. The truth was that she hoped this diversion would somehow dull the ache that she still felt regarding the mother whom she longed to see, her father and brothers’ deaths, and her return to England and all that entailed. This was a much-needed balm for all of her troubles, or rather, she hoped it was.

  Ah, but enough. She wanted to shake these thoughts out of her head.

  She slipped her hand through Will’s bent arm and leant towards him. ‘Come, let’s drink and be merry, for we may not get another chance.’

  He raised a brow. ‘That sounds ominous.’

  ‘You may hold on to those wits of yours, but I for one, intend to enjoy myself.’ She raised a finger and wagged it in the air. ‘And I must say that it would be far more gratifying if I were not doing it on my own.’

  She turned to face Will, saw that he was struggling not to smile and her breath caught. The man’s face and jaw were such sharp planes that she itched to run her raised finger across the smooth angular surface to see if she would cut herself. And now he was looking at her so peculiarly, with those deep, deep blue eyes that she felt strangely warm.

  Oh...oh, dear. Isabel had a sudden urge to lean up and press a kiss on those gorgeous lips of his.

  She exhaled, moving away, and grabbed another cup of wine. What was the matter with her? She swallowed a big gulp. What was she thinking? She looked down at the cup and swirled the red liquid around. Could it be that she had drunk too much wine? Possibly, she thought, as she drained the rest too quickly, making her cough.

  Will smiled softened as he gently patted her back ‘You see. This is why I need my wits about me.’

  ‘Of course, to play escort and nursemaid,’ she said between coughing. ‘To an unruly woman, like me? I pity you.’

  ‘I don’t need your pity, my lady.’

  ‘Well, then, you should pity me, Just Will. I’m a hopeless case.’

  ‘No, you’re a little inebriated, that’s all.’

  ‘That’s all?’ She raised a brow and looked at him. ‘Not a good thing for a supposed lady like me?’

  ‘You not a lady tonight, remember?’ he whispered beside her.

  She shrugged, taking another sip.

  Oh, she remembered, and that was why she was having such inappropriate thoughts about kissing William Geraint. Living as Adela, the miller’s daughter, she had never had any notions of kissing anyone before, except for the few times when a few young men had dared to steal kisses off her. It had never been this way around, but then again, she had never drunk this much ale and wine before, had she? Oh, God, but her head hurt just thinking about all of this.

  ‘You’re right, I’m just Plain Isabel tonight after all.’

  ‘Precisely, and there’s nothing wrong with it as long as you’re prepared for a hell of an ache in your head tomorrow.’

  She threw him a sideways glance and saw he was enjoying this. ‘We weren’t going to talk about tomorrow, remember?’

  ‘A thousand pardons.’ He chuckled softly, shaking his head as they walked along. ‘And, Isabel?’

  ‘Yes?’

  He smiled in that knowing way of his that made her stomach flutter. ‘There’s nothing plain about you.’

  Isabel swallowed uncomfortably, feeling a little off kilter as if the very air she breathed had stilled altogether. Lifting her head, she gazed wistfully into the fathomless blue of his eyes, before Will gave himself a little shake and looked away. Oh, God, how mortifying. Here he was being nice and all she could do was notice him in a totally unseemly way.

  She had hoped that this night might provide a respite from constantly reassessing her situation, but now she had this unbecoming awareness of her very tall, very attractive escort with eyes she wanted to drown in.

  She shouldn’t be noticing Will in this way. She shouldn’t notice how the taut muscles of his arms and chest filled the linen tunic and the way the dark brown braes shaped the bulging muscles on his legs and she definitely shouldn’t notice how large and looming he was, or the warmth where he touched her lightly on her elbow.

  Oh, God, there must be something wrong with her. She glanced into the cup she was clutching, knowing she must have drunk too much and then looked back up again, swaying slightly as she met his quizzical eyes, pondering how she should diffuse this situation.

  But really there was no need, not when she could embarrass herself further with a sudden onslaught of uncontrollable hiccups. Oh, but if the earth could just swallow her up at this very moment.

  * * *
>
  The woman was drunk!

  Isabel de Clancey was Will’s responsibility and it was his fault that she had consumed as much wine as she had. Of course, her uncertainty about her changed circumstances explained her rather erratic mood swings, as well as the necessity for the imposed enjoyment of this night—the chance of which Isabel believed she’d not have again.

  There was something sad about that belief—there was something sad about Isabel de Clancey’s outlook on life altogether. He might have a feeling of uneasiness about a woman of Isabel’s standing being in such a crowded, raucous and, not to mention, visible place, but Will didn’t have the heart to deny her this night. He could understand this need for release—he could understand it far too well...

  It was more than that, though. Will could not help but be drawn to her—she was warm and endearing, possessing a quiet, determined strength which was as admirable as it was attractive. He had to admit that he liked her company, her quick wit, her open manner and lack of artifice. She had no idea of her appeal or of her allure, which for a world-weary man, used to the contrivances at court, was both surprising and beguiling.

  But when he looked into those wistful and expressive eyes of hers, he saw something else there. An awareness of him and even a little desire, judging by the way her gaze kept dropping to his lips.

  God! That would not be the sort of release that would help her situation.

  It was certainly the wine that had put those amorous notions into her head. It was just as well that he had chosen to have his wits about him because it really wouldn’t do to court that kind of trouble, however appealing Isabel might be. He really didn’t need to add more complications to his already complicated life.

  Will watched her from the corner of his eye as she tried to cover her mouth with her hand while continuing to hiccup and something inside him shifted. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he shook his head absently. It really was difficult trying to be detached yet deferential, with their boundaries clearly defined. In fact, it was damned impossible.