Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart)

by Alyssa James

  “But, my lord—”

  With fast, jerky movements, he pulled a royal blue tunic over his head, then he fixed her with an autocratic look. “Remember these words, Lisette...Dutiful and obedient. They define what a wife needs be.”

  ’Twas difficult to maintain an outwardly calm countenance as he reiterated the role he expected her to play in his life.

  Dutiful and obedient be damned! These unladylike words of denial that sprung to her mind surprised her, but her entire being revolted against the passive role he was endeavouring to cast her into. He had yet to learn her true nature if he expected those words to apply to her.

  Irritation bubbled through her veins, threatening to boil over and scald him with its vehemence. ’Twould not do to detain him from investigating the fire when there was naught to be gained from continuing to argue with him. Drawing a deep breath, she gritted her teeth then tried hard to adopt an expression which she hoped would appear to be acquiescence. “I...I will not argue with you, my lord.”

  Boots in one hand, he dropped to sit on the bed and pull them on his feet. “That pleases me, lady wife.”

  Her mind mutinied.

  Nay, I’m not going to argue with you about this. There would be no point. But you will not keep me from my people, husband. As soon as you’ve gone, I’ll be out of the castle and down at the village, ready to help or provide comfort wherever I can.

  “Back to bed, my wife,” he advised before he stood and placed a brief kiss to her lips. The firm hand that fleetingly trailed the outline of her body’s curves, left her flesh humming from his touch. The only satisfaction she took was in seeing his need flare again in his face as he told her, “I truly regret I must leave you.”

  The next moment he’d pivoted away. Out he went, lord of the manor, to help his vassals while he expected her to be shallow and self-centred enough to crawl back to the comfort and warmth of her feather bed and sleep contentedly—well rested so she could keep pace with his lovemaking when he returned.

  The audacity and arrogance of him!

  While she welcomed the thought of his lovemaking, he needed to understand that her aim was to be a support to him in the day-to-day responsibilities that accompanied their titles, not just to be an active participant in his nightly pursuits. Her parents had enjoyed a true partnership in life and her father had always maintained that he was a better man for having had the full support of his wife. Mayhap some believed the former Lady Blake’s involvement in her husband’s business affairs had been unconventional but it had worked to the benefit of all those at Bridlemere. Lisette intended to work together with Rowan so that all those at Romsey benefitted from the unity of their earl and countess. Given time, Rowan would surely see the sense in such an approach.

  Even after the short period she had been here at Romsey, Lisette knew all the villagers by name. She had been diligent in learning where they lived and how they derived their living. ’Twas more than likely that the fire, coming from the direction of the village, meant at least one family was suffering a loss. As Rowan’s wife, she would be present to offer her comfort and support, even if she found she could do nothing more. ’Twas not in her nature to sit by idly while one of the village folk suffered.

  She suspected she could tell Rowan all this until she turned blue. ’Twould be far better to show him she was more than capable of running his castle and dealing with any crisis efficiently. In time, through her deeds, he would learn of her commitment and capability. Earning his respect was important to her—more important than she ever would have imagined. Besides, she needed to be true to herself and act in the manner she believed was correct for her role at Romsey.

  Smothering a growl of frustration, she faced her first hurdle as she drew her gown over her head and struggled to do up the fastenings. ’Twas impossible to dress properly in the garment without her maid’s assistance. The young maid was most likely curled up asleep on her pallet in the great hall. Lisette would not use the bell-pull to summon her when another solution was at hand.

  Clutching a pair of ankle-high boots, Lisette left the room. Barefooted and with the back of her gown gaping open, she went as quickly as she could down the hallway. ’Twas hardly decorous or befitting of her station, but there was a need for expediency as she headed toward the room Rowan had occupied prior to this eve. Once there she saw the great storage chest at the foot of the bed which housed most of his garments. Clothes flew from her hands as she rifled through it to find all the articles she required.

  In no time at all she was attired in male hose and tunic, with her hair caught up under a hood that had a full mantel covering her shoulders. ’Twas the first time she’d worn male garb. The freedom of movement it afforded her was liberating and she found herself envying men. ’Twas no wonder they were able to do so many more physical tasks when their movements weren’t confined by their garments.

  Able to take the stairs two at a time, she reached the great hall quickly and was surprised to see that ’twas almost deserted. Her lips thinned in irritation. ’Twas fine for Rowan to rouse and employ the assistance of the rest of the household—’twas just her aid that he hadn’t wanted.

  As she raced into the bailey, acrid smoke assaulted her nostrils. ’Twas thick in the air. Trepidation made her blood surge through her veins. Surely for there to be so much heavy smoke the fire must be extensive? It must be the village mill that was on fire.

  She sped past the sentries at their posts. They didn’t stop her. Presumably, as she was leaving the castle, she posed no threat. Mayhap re-entering the castle she may need to remove her hood and reveal her identity. Distant shouting, and sounds of people and animals panicking, travelled to her on the night air. Horror balled within her as she saw that the night sky in the direction of the village was illuminated by an orange-red light. Pushing her body into faster motion, Lisette sprinted toward the village. The voices grew louder, audible over the fierce crackling of flame.

  The scene that greeted her as she rounded the bend in the road caused her steps to falter.

  Dear Lord! The entire main street of the village was ablaze. Great plumes of black-grey smoke billowed up into the moonlit sky. Ahead of her, ash floated to the earth like charred snowflakes.

  Two lines of people formed separate human chains. All industry, one line of village folk conveyed pails of water to the fires from the town well, the other passed water along the line from the stream that was further away.

  She searched frantically for Rowan among the chaos. His sheer height should make him stand out among men, but initially, he was nowhere to be seen. Then she spotted him running toward a burning building.

  God in Heaven! Her heart contracted sharply as she realised he wasn’t going to stop.

  “Nay!” she cried out.

  He dashed straight through a curtain of flames that buffeted at the doorway of the dwelling. Her voice wouldn’t carry over the terrifying roar of the flames. Precious seconds passed. Every beat of her pulse was slow and sluggish. Dread leeched through her veins and made her legs weak. Sheer fear paralysed her to the ground where she stood. Both helplessness and hopelessness assailed her, rendering her incapable of doing anything more than staring at the spot where Rowan had disappeared. The flaming entryway was like the mouth of a fiendishly hungry serpent. The beast was intent on a feast as it coiled itself around the dwelling and consumed everything in its path. Believing ’twas impossible that Rowan could survive, she was frantic with worry.

  What in God’s name had he been thinking to venture straight into the fire? Tears stung her eyes and they weren’t caused merely by the sting of smoke. Tension caused her fingernails to dig into and score her palms. The desperation that welled within her was greater than any she had known as she waited for and willed him to re-appear. All she could do was send up a fervent prayer for his safety. She scanned the blazing building but there was still no sign of him.

  He was taking too long.

  Why had he done it?

  In the ne
xt instant the reason for Rowan’s mad dash into the inferno was clear. His heroism became evident as he re-appeared from the side of the building and carried an elderly man over his shoulder.

  Relief surged through her. The need to throw herself into her husband’s arms and know that he was safe was almost overwhelming. Advancing in his direction, she saw him hand the elderly man over to another. A few more steps and she stopped as she heard the cry of a baby and a faint female voice call for aid.

  “Help! Help us!”

  At the top of a loft, a mother appeared, cradling her baby close to her. Lisette recognised her straight away. ’Twas Elizabeth and baby John. Only days before Lisette had held and clucked over the infant as Rowan had ridden into village Romsey.

  Lisette looked around her. The scene was sheer pandemonium. Everyone was occupied with fire-fighting further down the street and had not heard the cries over the roar and crackle of the fire and people shouting. There was no time to gain Rowan’s attention. He was still too far away from her.

  ’Twas up to her. She must do something.

  “Catch him for me! Catch my baby!” Elizabeth called out in a panic as Lisette changed her direction and headed toward her.

  “Nay! Don’t drop him.” There had to be another way, but she saw and understood the desperation in Elizabeth. The baby must be saved. Lisette would want that too if ’twere her babe at risk.

  “The stairs and the back of the building are on fire. Pray help me!” the young mother sobbed. “I can’t get down.”

  Praise God. There was a ladder which leant against the wall of the neighbouring building. ’Twasn’t long enough to reach the window if placed against the outside of the building, but it should reach the floor of the loft from inside the building. “Keep calm, Elizabeth. I’m coming for both of you.”

  Unencumbered by the skirts of a gown, Lisette was able to move fast to get the ladder. ’Twas heavier than she’d thought, but her fear for Elizabeth and John gave her the strength to carry it. When she entered the barn she was nearly driven back out by the fierce heat of the flames which leapt about, consuming the rear wall of the structure.

  “Elizabeth!” Lisette shouted. She hauled hard to stand the ladder up so that it rested against the upper floor. Hard, racking coughs jerked her frame. The smoke was getting thicker to the point that she found it a struggle to inhale. “Bring John. Quickly!”

  Despite her eyes swimming in tears from the sting of the smoke, she saw Elizabeth appear with John. Lisette held tight to the sides of the ladder to brace it as the young mother made her way down. John’s wailing was interspersed with infantile coughing.

  Pray, let me get them out in time!

  Once down safely, Elizabeth turned. Her face was partly covered with a kerchief but, above the fabric, her watering eyes were panic-stricken. “My husband is still up there. He was hit by a flaming arrow.” She thrust baby John at Lisette. “I have to go back for him.”

  Shock roiled through Lisette as she absorbed Elizabeth’s partially muffled words. If she’d heard properly this news could only mean there had been a deliberate attack on the village. Marking the thought in her memory she would ponder this further when the emergency was over. Now there was another to be saved.

  “Nay, Elizabeth.” She refused to take John from his mother. “Get John out.” Another series of coughs shook her frame. “I’ll go back up for Will.”

  “Countess! It’s you!” Elizabeth’s tone was incredulous.

  “Hurry, Elizabeth. Get John outside and tell Lord Rowan. It’s still not...”

  There was a deafening sound from above. Lisette looked up just in time to see the main supporting beam of the roof partially give way. With an almighty shove, she pushed Elizabeth and baby John out of harm’s way and toward the doorway.

  In the next second she was knocked heavily to the ground. A great weight pinned her shoulder and agonising pain reverberated through her skull before everything went black.

  Chapter 10

  “Lord Rowan! Come quickly!”

  Rowan heard panic in the woman’s voice. Distress was etched into each of her features. “What is it,” he searched his mind for her name, “Elizabeth?”

  “I need help. Will’s been wounded by a flaming arrow and he’s trapped in the fire. The countess has been injured.” She broke off on a huge sob.

  What? Rowan’s heartbeat stuttered. “My wife is hurt? How can that be?”

  “Aye,” Elizabeth wailed as she hugged her baby tight. “I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

  Terror shot through him and paralysed his movement. “Nay!” he choked out. “It cannot be.”

  Lisette was injured? How badly? Was her unborn baby harmed? How could she possibly have been injured in their chamber? A multitude of questions bombarded his brain while a great ball of panic and dread lodged in his throat.

  “She is trapped in the fire, my lord. You must come immediately.”

  The woman was panicking and not making sense. Lisette couldn’t be in the fire. He’d left her in their chamber only a short time ago. For perhaps the first time in his life, Rowan’s cool, calm, logical thought processes deserted him. He looked in the direction of the castle but could not see any smoke coming from that direction. “The castle has been attacked?”

  Without waiting for a reply to his question, Rowan cursed his stupidity. “Bradford! Round up the knights and tell them to follow me to the castle!” It had been obvious the minute he saw the village fire that it had been deliberately lit. The fire must have been a diversion to launch an attack against the castle. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He’d left Lisette there thinking she’d been safe when she’d actually been poorly defended and would have been safer by his side. “I’m going to my wife,” he told Bradford. “You stay here in the village. Elizabeth’s husband needs rescuing.”

  “Nay, my lord!” Elizabeth almost screamed at him. “Lady Lisette isn’t at the castle. She’s trapped in our barn.”

  He stopped mid-stride. Turning on his heel, he grabbed Elizabeth’s shoulders and looked into her troubled eyes. Had the woman lost her mind? “I left my wife abed at the castle.” In a flash he knew the truth of it. His wilful wife had disobeyed his order.

  “Nay.” She shook her head vigorously. “She came to the village to help us.”

  “For the love of God!”

  Elizabeth’s teeth started to chatter. Tremors ran through her arms. “The roof has partly collapsed in our barn and the countess is trapped under a beam, Lord Rowan. The barn is ablaze.”

  Fear, unlike any Rowan had known, gripped as sharp as a raptor’s claws. Sprinting across the street and down toward the barn of Elizabeth and Will, he clung to the faint hope that Elizabeth was mistaken. Lisette should be asleep. She should be keeping herself and her babe safe in their bed at the castle. He’d commanded that she wait for him. Anger started to churn with worry in the pit of his stomach. His wife had defied him and now her life and that of her child may be in danger.

  Reaching his destination, he stopped for a moment to assess the situation. Black smoke spewed out from the building and dread squeezed his chest tight.

  When he would have charged ahead, a hand on his arm arrested his movement.

  “Nay, my lord.” Bradford breathed hard from the exertion of having kept up with Rowan. “You can’t seriously be thinking of going in there.”

  “Will!” Elizabeth shrieked.

  Rowan’s head snapped back and he followed Elizabeth’s gaze up. Elizabeth’s husband was out the loft window and hanging on by one arm. An arrow protruded from his back. The top floor had, indeed, collapsed. ’Twould be possible for Will to drop from his position now if they had some way of catching him so as to soften his fall. Bed linen was out of the question—the castle was too far away. Will swung a little precariously. The back of his shirt was stained with blood and he was surely in a weakened state.

  “Hang on, Will!” Elizabeth screamed again.

  Rowan’s mind raced. �
��You’re certain Lisette is inside?” he demanded of Elizabeth, who began to sob almost hysterically.

  A nod of reply was all she managed.

  Scanning the area frantically for a solution, Rowan spied a wagon.

  “Bradford, get that wagon.” He gestured toward it. “Get it under Will as fast as you can, man. If you stand in it you should almost be able to reach him to help him down to safety.”

  Rowan was taller, but his first priority was to rescue Lisette. Bradford’s height should suffice. Pray God, let me be in time before the entire structure collapses on top of her.

  For the second time that night Rowan found himself charging into a burning building. The heat from the blaze was like a furnace blistering his skin. Head held as low as possible so he breathed the air where the smoke was thinner, he shielded his nose with the cloth of his sleeve to filter the air. Only a few steps in, he nearly stumbled over the beam. Squinting through gritty eyes, he made out a human form trapped beneath it. Mercifully the fire had not yet reached that section although tongues of flame lashed their way along the beam. Rowan dropped to his knees beside the trapped body.

  Hell! ’Twasn’t his lady wife but a man. Despair filled him as he took in the hose covering the legs. He had to save this man, but he still had to locate Lisette.

  Scanning up the body to see the point where the man was trapped by the beam, Rowan’s watering eyes narrowed then widened as he saw the figure had breasts.

  Dear Lord, what is this? He searched for the person’s face. Despite his incredulity he knew immense relief. Through the smoke he saw that ’twas his wife after all—she was merely dressed in male attire...His clothes. Shock had him paralysed and inept for several precious seconds as his brain tried to make sense of the scene before him. Urgently, he shook himself out of his trance.

  “Lisette!” He stifled a cough. “Lisette, can you hear me?”

  No response.

  There was no time to check for a pulse. Damping down the panic welling in him that his wife may already be dead, he placed his arms around the beam and heaved. It barely budged, but he had to shift it for it pinned her shoulder to the ground.