by Alyssa James
Lisette paled and stepped toward him. Her fingers went back to his arm. “How did you escape?”
“A villein, loyal to my father, came to my aid immediately. He knew my character and Malin’s and did not believe Malin’s story. ’Twas his help that saved me. He gave me the clothes from his back and the horse my father had presented him when his wife, a herbalist, had prepared a tisane that helped break my mother’s ague. The horse was naught more than a nag, useful to plough the fields, but that nag lifted me up off the ground so the hounds lost my scent. It carried me for three days to the safety of my uncle’s castle. ’Twas my uncle, Duke Devereux, who gave me his protection and saw to it that I completed my training and became a knight.”
And Aveline who had banished some of the hatred, shame and darkness of his soul with her light.
“Praise be to God that you had someone to turn to.” Lisette sounded genuinely relieved. Her hand shifted along his arm in what she probably meant as a comforting gesture. Rowan held himself rigid as her touch inflamed his senses. “I have heard naught but good reports of Duke Devereux.”
“Aye. Had it not been for Devereux taking me in and training me for knighthood, I know not what would have become of me.” His exhalation was long and slow. He had been very fortunate to have known three men in his formative years whose characters were strong and confident. His step-father, Duke Devereux and Lisette’s father. All three of them had played significant roles in the making of him. They and Aveline had shaped him into the man he was today. “I first served under your father at Bramham Moor. He also treated me very well.” Mayhap better than Rowan had deserved.
A grouse ran across the track ahead of them, distracting Rowan from the past. He seized on the fowl to change the subject. ’Twas a diversion away from thoughts he did not want to re-visit. “The woods are rich with game. The feast at Michaelmas will be a bountiful one.”
Her hold on his arm firmed as he would have moved away. “Did your uncle try to avenge his sister’s death?”
“Nay. He promised me that vengeance would be mine. Devereux lost a beloved sister, but I lost a mother and a father...step-father...whom I cherished above all else.” Rowan cursed inwardly as he heard his voice crack with strain. Actually, he’d lost more. He’d also lost the woman who’d claimed his love—the one he’d planned to marry. After all this time the pain was still close to the surface. Berating himself, he groped savagely inside his himself to resurrect the hatred he had for Malin. The last thing he would do was break down in front of his bride in an unmanly mess. “One day, soon, I will have that revenge.”
’Twould be soon. He could almost taste the satisfaction of it.
“’Tis a terrible tale, Lord Romsey. You have endured much.”
Her words were sincere but he cringed at the pity he saw in her countenance. He didn’t want her pity but he did want her to understand the gravity of her crime and what far-reaching negative effects it could have on her unborn babe. He looked gravely at her and gave the hand that rested on his arm a slight squeeze.
“I have no wish to have the child you bear suffer in any way, Lisette. He or she shall not be branded a bastard.” He dropped his hand away from hers and drew himself up a little taller. Never had he known such fierce resolve to do the right thing. “The former Baron of Baddesley was my father in every way that counted. Most other men of his position would have disowned me. I vow to favour this child as if ’twere my own.”
Tears ran down her cheeks. She released her hold on him to wipe them away. “You are a good man, Lord Romsey. A true and worthy knight. I thank you with all I have for what you have done to protect me, and for your acceptance of this babe.”
Her tears annoyed him. He was not as honourable as she believed. “’Tis not easy to walk this path and I am no saint. I have no aspiration to see your belly thicken with the proof of another man’s lust when I lust for you myself—when I wish ’twere the seed from my loins flourishing and growing inside you.”
Her expression revealed her shock. “I am so sorry...” She broke off on a sob.
“My step-father forgave my mother when she practised the same deceit upon him. He did not denounce me as a bastard, but loved me for the child I was and the young man I was becoming. He told my mother he had long suspected her affair prior to their marriage, but loved her regardless. ’Tis his legacy I honour by treating you and this babe as my own.”
“You said your step-father loved your mother.”
“Aye. And soon after their marriage, she loved him. ’Twas only foolish maidenly fascination and sweet-talking words from the Duke of Winchester that had caused her to lie with him. They had both been just out of childhood themselves when they’d given in to the lustful wants of their flesh. ‘Twas apparently a folly made by youth in the first flush of infatuation. My step-father forgave both of them. He had fought alongside the Duke of Winchester in battle and had admired him. There was no malice between them.”
“Have you never met the Duke of Winchester?”
“Nay.” He shook his head. “I’ve heard he is a good man and he is held in high esteem by King Henry. I asked my uncle about him once when I was much younger. The duke has a family. I had parents who loved me when I was born on the wrong side of the sheets. ’Twas better to leave things as they were, for there is nought for a bastard child.”
Lisette’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Yet you plan that there will be for this child I carry.”
“Aye. ’Tis no different than what the baron did for my mother and me, except that I know of your deceit from the outset.”
She flinched at the mention of her deceit. “Your mother thought she was in love with the duke...” Her words trailed off as her top teeth gnawed at her full lower lip. “She and I...are different,” she said brokenly, her voice heavy with despair.
“Aye. You have confessed you were neither raped nor enamoured of your lover,” he told her sternly. “If that is the case I suspect your heart may have been forged as hard as Damascus steel.”
“Nay,” her denial was stricken. “Rowan...What I did was wrong, I confess. I knew it as I did it, but I could see no other option.”
Beside them, Stormbringer’s ears drew back and he moved restlessly. A quick scan of the area reassured Rowan no danger lurked. His steed had always been sensitive to the mood in the air and Lisette’s shame and regret were palpable. As he stroked the horse’s neck and soothed him, Lisette’s next words almost made Rowan reel backward.
“I lay with another for the sole purpose of securing this babe in my womb.”
Rowan’s curse was far from chivalrous in the presence of a lady but he was truly shocked by her admission. To deliberately seek procreation outside holy matrimony was unthinkable. He could not fathom such behaviour.
Lisette blushed to the roots of her hair as she rushed into speech, “Ysabel suspected that Lord Collins had a hand in the death of his wives.”
Rowan frowned. Lisette had just made a confession and now she sought to deflect his attention back to Lord Collins transgressions? Still, he wondered how the maid would have reached that conclusion. “She did?”
“Aye. She saw a pattern in their accidental deaths. At best, each wife only lived until the first wedding anniversary.”
He nodded but still saw not how this conversation had any bearing on Lisette’s confessed lack of morals. “Ysabel was right.”
“She said she thought it might be because they were not yet breeding. Ysabel thought that mayhap the fault was with Lord Collins’ seed rather than that his brides were all barren.”
Once the rushed words were out, Rowan looked intently at Lisette, assessing her and trying to see into her soul.
“Your servant is a very perceptive woman.” He rubbed his chin and thought about the maid’s suspicions. “I suspect she is correct.” But even as he acknowledged this, a thousand questions pounded through his brain at Lisette’s confession.
“My guardian told me that if I was not to conceive, and if I
met with an untimely death, Genevieve would go to Lord Collins as his next bride.” She placed both her hands on his forearms, her expression implored him to listen to her words and to understand her quandary. “I sought a man to help me. I lay with him to receive his seed. ’Twas done only in the hope that I would become with child and be able to present Lord Collins with an heir. I truly believed I had no choice if I was to save both my own life and that of my sister.”
Zounds! Now what she had done made sense. In truth, she had been fighting a life and death battle—both for herself and for her young sister. But still...her actions...
His brain worked furiously. One thought rose above all others that were clamouring for answers. She had lain with a man to become pregnant—had lain with that man very recently. Chill seeped through him and suddenly he found it difficult to breathe. Surely not. His brain screamed in denial. Surely it had not been Lisette who had ruthlessly ridden him over those three days and nights he’d been captive. Yet the pieces fit together. He’d been left with silver coin...Only a wealthy woman such as Lisette would have been able to afford such payment.
Payment for his seed...
Could she be the one? Could it be his child she carried?
“Lord Rowan, you have paled. Are you faint?”
Faint? He was giddy from the thoughts and disbelief spinning around within him.
These suspicions couldn’t be correct. He rejected the preposterous thought. Bridlemere was too far away from the inn he’d stayed at in Southampton.
How could he know for certain that ’twas not Lisette who’d captured and ridden him? ’Twas not possible to question her directly without revealing the embarrassment and shame he carried—without admitting that he had fallen victim to a woman and her schemes. He would never confess what he had endured to another soul. The last thing he wanted was for his wife to know that he had been held captive and abused by a woman. She would surely perceive him as being weak. He had not been able to defend himself. Lisette could not be expected to trust him to defend her and the child she carried if she knew what he had endured.
“My lord, do you need to sit down?” she insisted in a worried tone.
Rowan ignored her question. “Tell me about this man you lay with.”
“He will never betray my secret.”
That told him nothing. “He cares for you?”
She shook her head. “There was no love between us. He merely helped me with my plight.”
“I’ll bet he did.” What man would have refused to lie with such an angel and plant his seed in her womb? There would have been no need to resort to kidnapping a man to aid her in her scheme. The reward of lying with such a beauty would have been too much for most men to resist. Even a noble man may have excused the act outside matrimony knowing that he was quite possibly saving the lives of Lisette and her sister. “You would have been a prize.”
Remorse filled her eyes. “’Twas I who was grateful to him.” Her voice told of her regret but also of the desperation she’d felt at the situation that had been thrust upon her.
Had he judged her too quickly? Moreover, with what he carried on his conscience, did he really have the right to judge her? Still, he needed to rule out the far-fetched possibility that she had been the one to capture him.
“Was the father of your child a knight in your guardian’s service?”
“Nay, my lord. He was a villein, but you must not ask me to reveal his name. It would be wrong for him to suffer when he merely came to my assistance.”
Rowan analysed her words carefully. The man must have been a farmer from her village who had acted out of loyalty to her or to her family. Lisette said he came to her assistance which implied the man had been given a choice and had been a willing participant.
Rowan had been taken without consent.
She’d said she would not name the man and remained loyal to him.
The woman who’d captured Rowan would be unable to name him and was so without scruples she would certainly not be a woman who was loyal. The tension began to leave his body. His extremities began to warm again and his heart pumped normally once more as he ruled out the possibility that it had been Lisette who had used him.
“This man will not come forward to claim your babe as his own?”
“Nay.” Her tone was adamant.
He needed to think on her confession, to turn the facts over in his mind and review her actions in the light of her circumstances. At least she had confessed. The crime he had committed long ago was one to which he would never confess.
“I know not what to think of your behaviour, Lisette. ’Twas surely against God’s will and the teachings of the church for you to lie with a man outside the marriage bed.”
But the sin he had perpetrated shortly after gaining his spurs, had also been against God’s will and the teachings of the church.
“But my intentions were only to save my sister and myself.” Her tone beseeched him to understand.
And my intention, that night long ago when I committed my offence against God was impure, he thought.
“I knew not that God planned another salvation for me,” she told him as she clasped her hands in front of her. “I knew not that you were being sent by God to rescue me.”
“You lacked faith in His will to make things right.”
Just as he had. Just as he still did, for he still grappled with his faith in God to set things right. He still wanted to take matters into his own hands and seek vengeance.
She hung her head. “I did lack faith. What you say is true but I am hoping that you may find it in your heart to forgive me, my lord, now that you know why I committed this wrong.”
Despite his intentions to keep his distance from her, he raised a hand and gently trailed it down each of her cheeks, wiping away the tracks of her tears. Even knowing she had lain with another and carried another man’s child, his need for her thrummed hotly through his veins.
“I excused myself for I expected Lord Collins to be my husband. That was the only reason I gave my maidenhead to one who was not my husband.”
“Your confession is astounding, my lady.” Had her act of fornication truly been done with pure intent to save her sister and herself, then mayhap her actions were self-sacrificial. Far from being a harlot, it may well be that she was brave. What she had done may have cost her dearly. He shook his head at the tangent of his thoughts. As much as he wanted to believe she had pure intent, and even knowing he was guilty of far worse—he had taken life whereas she had created life—he could not excuse her so quickly.
“Make of me what you will, my lord, but pray listen fairly to one more of my pleas.”
“Tell me what you wish.” He braced himself for whatever she asked of him.
“Lord Blake acted most inappropriately toward me just prior to my marriage.”
Rowan’s hands clenched at his sides. His dislike for the present Lord Blake grew stronger the more he learned about the man’s character. Then horror lanced through him and his blood ran cold. “’Tis not he who has fathered your child?”
“Nay,” she denied hastily.
Of course not. Rowan recalled belatedly that it had been Blake who’d been going to hand her over to Collins and who had wanted to witness her deflowering. Lisette’s guardian had not realised she was no longer a maiden, nor was he a peasant.
“He told me he would have bedded me had my maidenhead not been so valuable to him.”
Rowan cursed again. He could not contain his thorough disapproval at her guardian’s lack of scruples with his ward. “I find it difficult to credit that your father would have left you and your sister in the care of a man with so little honour.”
“Exactly.” Lisette sounded infinitely relieved that he voiced this opinion. “You knew my father. He would hardly have chosen this distant cousin of his to care for us. Even if he didn’t know him well, I am sure my father would have made investigations into his character prior to making his will, to safeguard our futures. Ysabe
l and I are certain the document my guardian produced was fraudulent.”
Dear Lord! Knowing Lisette’s father, what she was saying rang true. “The man should be—”
“I fear for my sister who is still in his household,” Lisette rushed out before he could finish.
Ice trickled down his spine. “She is but...ten?”
“I believe there is no boundary Lord Blake would not cross—especially now you have thwarted his plans to marry me to Lord Collins.”
Nay! That any man could be so evil filled Rowan with rage. It could not be tolerated or left unpunished and Rowan would protect Genevieve at all costs.
“This is why you asked if your sister and your maid could accompany us to Romsey?” he guessed.
“Aye.”
“You should have told me your reasons for your request when you first made it, Lisette. I would not have denied you this had I understood fully why you asked.” But he had denied her when she’d asked him the day after their wedding. His anger with her had strained on its leash and, seeking to punish her, he’d denied her the company of her maid and sister and sent them back to Bridlemere. “I confess my first thought was to cut you off from those who might aid you if you sought to betray me further.”
She bit down on her lip, her expression crestfallen. “I don’t blame you for doubting me, but I do speak true when I say I have no reason to betray you. I pray that with time you will be able to forgive me and trust me.”
Blue eyes pleaded with him and made everything in him want to forgive her. But his lessons of the past strengthened his resolve to keep her at a distance. Even though they were physically dissimilar, Lisette’s features suddenly blurred with Lady Eleanor’s in his mind. Eleanor had taught him not to trust a woman, even when the woman claimed undying love for him. Lisette’s own actions on their wedding night didn’t inspire him to trust her.
