Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart)

by Alyssa James

  “I shall send a message to Bridlemere requesting a visit from your sister,” he told her brusquely. “’Twill keep her out of harm’s way while I petition the king for her guardianship.”

  A sob broke from Lisette’s mouth. “Thank you, my lord.” The tears running down her cheeks were fast-flowing rivers now. “For the dreadful wrong I have committed, I can hardly fathom that you show me such kindness.”

  He resisted the strong urge to take her into his arms and cradle her against him. ’Twas only his knightly need to comfort a maiden in distress, he told himself. ’Twas naught to do with his needs as a man for he had those needs firmly under control. He would never allow Lisette to slip under his guard.

  “My step-father was an exemplary knight and an outstanding example of chivalrous behaviour. He was a fine model for me to emulate. I pray I am able to do justice to his lessons and can teach your babe the same values should you carry a son.” The need to do the right thing was foremost in Rowan’s mind.

  In doing what he knew to be right mayhap he would also make amends for the crime he’d committed—the crime he could not bring himself to fully repent.

  She lowered her head as she wiped at her tears with her kerchief but looked up again as she asked, “Do you think you can ever learn to forgive me?”

  Discomfort made him shift restlessly on his feet. Could he forgive her? The baron had forgiven his mother. But the baron had loved his mother.

  “I do not know,” he answered truthfully. A great weight pressed against his heart. In all the years since the murder of his parents, forgiveness was not something that Rowan had been able to achieve. ’Twas something he could never grant his half-brother, Malin. But...Lisette...

  Deception had made a rocky start to their marriage, yet they were married. The future stretched endlessly before them. Lisette’s earnest remorse, and her honesty since the debacle of their wedding night, provided hope. He’d guaranteed the welfare of the babe she carried. Its future was certain. Just as certain was the sexual longing that pulsed like a lightning charge between them. Desire...His desire for her was present in each heartbeat. Surely, from that they could lay the foundation for their future? He could want her physically without allowing that to rob him of his sense.

  “My lord, you told me you lust for me. Do you ever intend to make me your wife in truth?”

  All the breath whooshed out of Rowan’s lungs at her bold question. ’Twas as though she’d read his mind. But she was a woman. That this woman could speak of such things was...brazen.

  She is your wife. Surely, as your wife, she has a right to know? And...Lord knew, he wanted to take her as his wedded wife and know her in the biblical sense.

  “You desire me, Lisette?”

  She held herself so straight her spine must surely ache.

  “Although I am not worthy of you, I seek to be a good wife to you.”

  “That response does not answer my question,” he insisted at her prevarication. “Do you desire me in the marriage bed?”

  “You are a very handsome man, my lord. I would not believe a woman who said she did not desire you.”

  The candid admiration in her voice made his heart feel uncomfortably large against the confines of his ribcage.

  “You are over your lust for your babe’s father?”

  “I spoke true when I said I lay with him for the purpose of becoming with child.” There was an earnest light in her eyes as she spoke, willing him to believe her. “There was no love between us.”

  He reached out and placed his fingers firmly beneath her chin, ensuring she continued to look at him. Suddenly ’twas imperative that he see the truth in her soul when she answered his next question. “Did you find the ultimate pleasure with the man who was your lover, Lisette?”

  Her eyelids pressed tight for a couple of seconds and her throat worked up and down in the slender column of her neck. Her skin heated beneath his fingertips.

  “Nay, my lord, I do not believe that I did.”

  Satisfaction surged through him.

  It mattered not that she was ripening with another man’s child. In that instant he was completely resolved to claim his conjugal rights and take her to his bed. His wife would find pleasure in his arms. In that regard, at least, he would be her first lover.

  “I do not subscribe to the church’s teachings that marital relations between a husband and wife should only be confined to procreation,’ he told her slowly.

  At his words, her cheeks blushed with more colour than the reddest English rose.

  “There is much pleasure to be had during the activity of procreation.” ’Twas his libido that spoke when he promised, “If I take you to my bed, my body will show yours the ultimate pleasure, Lisette.”

  He’d used the word ‘if’ but knew he should have said ‘when’. The blood rushed to his groin and thickened his shaft. He struggled to overpower his need for her and to keep her at a distance. He took a step backward, determined not to cave to his body’s lust until he knew Lisette a little better. Before he lay with her he would ensure he’d reinforced the barrier around his heart, for no woman would find her way in to that place again.

  Others may consider him all manner of buffoon for deciding to let his body have its way with her, but, in that instant, he decided that he would soon lie with his bride and make her his. Making love to Lisette, within the holy bounds of matrimony, would help wash away the taint his body still carried from the woman who had held him captive and used his body. Being master in his own bed would help heal the inner wound inflicted when he had been powerless against that unknown woman.

  Most of all, he could not deny that he wanted this woman—his wife.

  Chapter 7

  Fierce longing pulsed through the Countess of Romsey as she watched her husband train with his men. Never had she seen a more capable knight. Despite his immense height and the bulk of his chain mail, Lord Rowan was incredibly light and agile on his feet as he ducked and weaved, evading or blocking the blows of his opponent’s blade. She was riveted to the spot at her bower window by his sheer skill and focus in combat.

  Blow after blow was exchanged in the training courtyard below. The clashes of steel echoed around the walls of the surrounding buildings. The sun caught the shining steel of both blade and armour plating or chain mail and made an impressive display of flashing lights.

  The light display was not as impressive, however, as her husband. He was so handsome, he simply took her breath away.

  Even though he had told her he was no saint, Lisette grew more in awe of his honour each day she spent with him. Apart from her father, she had never known a man as honourable. All the village folk and the castle servants adored Lord Rowan. His knights idolised him, and his wife...she had fallen deeply under his spell.

  Lord Romsey was an enigma. A proud yet humble man. A leader among men, yet someone who was willing to listen to the opinion of others. A ruthless, unrelenting warrior who had told her he was determined to seek revenge on his half-brother, yet Rowan was a man who had forgiven Lisette to the point where he promised to claim her unborn babe as his own. This man, who had known the pain of suffering, was compassionate to others and upheld all the values of a truly chivalrous knight.

  ’Twas still difficult to fathom the anguish he must have known to have his half-brother betray their mother, murder Baron Baddesley, and be prepared to hunt him down with dogs. That he had survived the experience and gone on to become the king’s first knight, earned her admiration. The past wrongs he had suffered compounded Lisette’s guilt that she had betrayed him by not being the virtuous bride he deserved—especially when he had saved her from marriage to Lord Collins.

  Tension made her shoulders ache.

  How could she make amends?

  Whilst Rowan was perfectly polite to her in public, he made no time for her privately. Two days ago, as they had walked back to the castle from the village of Romsey, he’d admitted he lusted for her. Yet he had still not visited her chamber
to lie with her. Mayhap he never would. She was uncertain as to his intentions regarding their marriage and how they would deal with each other.

  “If I take you to my bed, my body will show yours the ultimate pleasure, Lisette.”

  ’Twas a promise she believed her masterful husband could keep, for he undertook each task—whether ’twas training with his knights or meeting his villeins and their families—with passion and conviction. Knowledge of his character told her his words were no idle boast. His devotion to her pleasure in the marital bed would also be undertaken with passion, and she was definitely ready to learn of this ultimate pleasure. Surely there was more pleasure to be had for a woman from the act of coupling than she had experienced?

  There had been no insistence from Rowan on their wedding night that she don a chemise carouse – the thick garment prescribed by the church for coupling. Ysabel had told her that her mother scorned the clothing which covered the woman’s entire body and only had a hole cut at the appropriate place to allow penetration by her husband. Lisette shuddered. She’d heard the material of such a garment was coarse, scratchy and extremely uncomfortable to wear against the skin.

  Rowan had been willing to spare her that discomfort. So, ’twas as he had told her—he did not subscribe to the church’s insistence that the marriage bed was for the sole purpose of procreation. Far from covering up her body, he had laid her breasts bare, feasted on them first with his gaze and then wreaked havoc with the attention of his mouth. A quiver of remembered sensual bliss shuddered down her spine at the recollection. He’d been intent on stripping off every scrap of her clothing until...until he’d found the incriminating pig’s blood, the evidence of her lack of virtue.

  Daily, she repented and prayed for forgiveness.

  Daily she prayed that the man who was father to her child was hale and hearty and did not bear her any malice for having robbed him of his seed.

  Lisette yearned to be a wife who could satisfy her husband’s needs. Every need. Watching as he trained below, she acknowledged that she also had needs that clamoured for satisfaction. Although she wasn’t exactly sure of what these needs were, or how to begin going about satisfying them, she was certain her husband knew.

  In the training yard Rowan parried then made a cutting counter-attack. His mastery with the blade was a sight to behold. Each movement was intense. Every instinct told her he would be just as intense and masterful in the way he made love.

  Inner muscles clenched at the core of her femininity and desire spread like wildfire through her frame at the thought of it. She was curious and needy. She wanted what Rowan had promised her.

  The ultimate pleasure.

  Those words had sent a shiver of longing through her and made her achingly aware of a strange emptiness at the juncture of her thighs. She was taunted by the memory of her body straining for something unattainable while she’d ridden the peasant. She’d been more deeply frustrated than fulfilled after each coupling with that man. Then some hitherto wicked, wanton part of her had been unleashed with the brief flare of passion she’d found in Rowan’s arms on their wedding night. Her body now demanded satisfaction. There was a deep-welling insistence that she experience the unknown, ultimate pleasure he referred to.

  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 aye. 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.