by Alyssa James
A few long strides and he was by her side again as she stepped outside the hall. Reaching for her, he spun her around so she faced him and was encircled by his arms. His voice emerged deep and low. “Your lack of constraint is welcome day or night when it comes to our lovemaking.” Watching the soft swell of her breasts rise as she inhaled, he released his hold on her lest he be tempted to forget his own restraint. “At other times, you should—”
But the minx wasn’t listening. She merely laughed, sent him a coquettish look and gave him a playful thump of her fist against his bicep. “One day you will give thanks that you have a wife who has a mind and a will of her own.”
He could not prevent his groan. “Lisette, my sweet temptress, I would not be so sure of that.” God help him, she was a handful. Life with this woman would never be dull or predictable.
“You can resist all you like, my lord,” she told him more seriously as they stepped from the shadow of the building and into the bright sunlight. “I will not give up on you. I fully intend that you reacquaint yourself with your heart and vow I shall never give up my quest.”
“Lisette.” He said her name on a note of warning.
Full of confidence, she caught his hand and squeezed his fingers as they walked along. “No armour you don will shield your heart from my assault on it.”
“I have been concerned lest my honest words hurt you, but they seem to have caused nary a dent.”
“Your words cannot hurt me for I know that while you possess a heart, you don’t know it yet. I have a plan to help you learn of it and its tremendous capacity to love.”
It would not happen. In time she would learn to accept and find contentment in what he could give her. “Brave words, my lady, but I have a plan of my own.”
“Hmm. Pray tell me about this plan of yours.” Her lips twitched with merriment.
The movement caught his attention and set a relay of impulses straight to his groin as he recalled those lips on his own. “I have considered that your campaign shall be greatly weakened and all the fight taken out of you if I can keep you sated in our bed.”
“I don’t believe there’s any doubt of your ability to do that, my lord.” Her red lips parted as she smiled widely. “If that’s your battle plan I will be conquered happily, although I would consider myself more victor than vanquished!”
Uncaring of all the activity around them as they walked through the inner bailey, Rowan stopped in his tracks and stood facing her. He encircled her with his arms and pulled her against his body. Instantly she yielded, pressing closer into his frame. “I have no wish to hurt you, my wife. You must understand that love is something that has only caused me pain and bitterness. I pledged long ago never to give my love again.”
“Rowan.” There was a wealth of feeling in the way she said his name.
“Our life together can be good if you will only give up this impossible dream you have.” He let go of her, placed one hand at her hip and raised the other to trail down the softness of her cheek. “I place more value on the respect I have for you, and the trust that is building between us now, than on this romantic notion of love that exists merely in the songs of the troubadours.”
Her tongue made a clicking noise of disbelief against her palate. “You told me yourself that your mother and step-father were in love.”
“Such a love is rare.”
“But you cannot deny it exists.”
“My desire for you is great. Although I did not seek to wed I am happy now ’tis so. To hope for more is to set one’s self up for disappointment. To nag me continually regarding this will make our relationship tiresome to the point that I shall be pleased to rejoin our king on his next campaign in Normandy.”
Her face fell. The teasing light was extinguished from her eyes. Although he did not mean to upset her, he believed it better to let her down now than have her hang on to the hope that they would have a romance that featured in ballads sung at court.
“Respect and trust, Lisette. They are the qualities that are important. These factors will see us through our days together,” he emphasised before lowering his head and planting a gentle kiss against her lips. He hoped his kiss would take away some of the sting of his words and show her that they could still enjoy the physical compatibility that lay between them. “Now, let us continue on our way and have news from the returning party of knights as to why they are back so soon.”
He sensed she was still not resigned to his words, but that she was prepared to let the subject drop temporarily because she was anxious to reach the returning knights. Upon reaching the outer bailey Lisette gave an excited little jump beside him.
“’Tis Genevieve and Ysabel come from Bridlemere, Rowan,” she cried. “Oh, how wonderful!”
She raced forward and would have tripped on the edge of her gown had he not been at her side to support her. Incorrigible was the word that sprang to mind as she loosened her arm from his steadying hold, used her hands to pull up her skirts slightly and raced forward. He could have reminded her that as a lady she was not meant to go charging around the castle at speed. He could have told her that her conduct was most unbecoming. However he doubted the wilful Lisette would heed his words. Instead he appealed to her maternal instinct to caution her. “Take care, Lisette, and proceed slowly. You may put the child you carry at risk if you fall.”
She sobered. “You are right. I will take care.” With those words, she walked on as quickly as she could to meet the party.
Watching her greet her sister and former nursemaid, Rowan noted the animation in her features. Lisette had a great capacity to love others. Part of him wanted to allow her to chip away at the ice that encased his heart—to give this most vital organ over to her so that she might breathe life into it again. Tension made his shoulders draw back as he banished the thought. He would not risk making himself vulnerable again.
Recalling the wonderment and adoration she’d had on her face as she’d cradled one of the babes from the village, he could only imagine the depth of love she would feel for her own child. Intuitively he knew she would be a good mother, a loving mother, just as his own had been...
“My lord.” The most senior of the knights in this riding party approached him.
“Sir Dwaine,” Rowan acknowledged. “You met the party from Bridlemere on the road?”
The knight inclined his head in affirmation. “But not as we would have expected to meet them, my lord, for the Countess’ sister and former maid had no escort to accompany them—just a couple of servants from Bridlemere.”
Rowan’s jaw firmed. “’Tis an insult to my wife that Blake should send her sister to visit without proper protection.” The former Lord Blake would turn in his grave to know that his younger daughter had been made so vulnerable as she travelled.
“The servants inform me that Lord Blake is absent from Bridlemere,’ Sir Dwaine told him, “and he is unaware that Lady Genevieve has left. They said that they escaped from Bridlemere. Whilst I have ascertained that they were not actually locked up as prisoners, Lord Blake was making life unpleasant for Lady Genevieve and would never have given her leave to visit her sister here at Romsey Castle.”
That news made Rowan frown on two counts. Firstly, he wondered just how Blake was making life unpleasant. Secondly, as much as he wanted Genevieve away from her guardian, there were protocols to follow. Breaching these protocols could damage Rowan’s petition to King Henry for Genevieve’s guardianship if the evidence of Blake being involved in a conspiracy didn’t hold up under trial. “Were you given a reason for her unapproved departure from her guardian?”
“One of the servants has informed us that Lord Blake has travelled to Baddesley Keep.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened. ’Twas further confirmation that his enemies, indeed the king’s enemies, were uniting.
“They say Blake is trying to gather men-at-arms to attack Romsey.”
“What?” Although he knew his enemies would probably be plotting to strike against him
in some manner, a physical attack on Romsey Castle was sheer folly. Romsey was surely impervious to any attack they could mount. He would have been less surprised to learn that they hatched some plan to discredit him in Henry’s favour. Besides, to proceed with an assault against Henry’s first knight would alert the king to their treachery.
“The servant was adamant that there is something afoot. It appears Lord Blake has been most vocal about his loathing of you, my lord. Apparently—”
“My lord,” Lisette interrupted as she hurried to his side. Her brow was furrowed with consternation. “There is worrying news from Bridlemere. It confirms what we have already learned from Gwen that Lord Blake and Baron Baddesley are plotting together to overthrow the king, and to bring you down.”
“So I have heard.” He reached for and encased her hand in his, giving a reassuring squeeze before raising it to his lips. “Do not trouble yourself. Enjoy your reunion with your sister and allow me to obtain all the facts.” Turning to Sir Dwaine, he instructed, “Bring the servant who told you this news to my solar.”
Rowan took his leave of his wife and strode away. The loathing Lisette’s former guardian had for him was reciprocated ten-fold. Rowan didn’t doubt he had made an enemy of the present Lord Blake after having him ejected from the wedding banquet. That Blake sought revenge by conspiring with his half-brother, Malin, would merely give Rowan the chance to strike against both of them at once. An attack on Romsey would be political suicide given Rowan’s position in the king’s court, but neither of these men was entirely rational and Malin had, to date, escaped punishment for the murder of his parents. Mayhap Malin had become bold and considered himself untouchable for his crimes, or it may be that he knew the time had almost come for Rowan to bring him to justice. Malin may have decided that attack would be better than defence.
Only minutes after he arrived at his solar, Rowan heard a sharp rap on the door.
“Enter!”
“My lord,” Sir Dwaine announced, “these are the servants who accompanied Lady Genevieve from Bridlemere. John Cartwright and Frederick Crofter.”
The two men entered one by one as they were introduced. There was no mistaking the sudden jerking back of John Cartwright’s head and his initial expression of shock and...horror... as he passed by Sir Dwaine and saw Rowan. The man appeared panicked before he wiped all expression from his features then looked away. His discomfort was palpable. He moved his weight from one foot to another and his gaze darted around the room, looking everywhere but at Rowan.
Shifting his focus to the second man, Rowan’s sense of unease magnified.
Frederick Crofter’s reaction to meeting Rowan was just as strong, but not as quickly masked. This taller, almost giant of a man stared at Rowan as if he’d seen a ghost—his jaw dropped so that his mouth was wide open and he seemed completely paralysed by shock.
Rowan frowned at the men as he tried to make sense of their reactions. Studying Cartwright more closely, he observed the man swallowing nervously. What in God’s name did Cartwright’s reaction mean? The man had been relaxed enough when he’d entered the solar but his whole demeanour had changed dramatically the moment he’d met the Earl of Romsey.
Why?
“H-h-he’s Lady Lisette’s h-husband?” Crofter stuttered on a whispered breath to Cartwright.
“Is something amiss?” Rowan demanded.
“Nay, my lord,” Cartwright returned, his voice shaky.
Crofter stood mute. ’Twas only a sharp elbow in the ribs from Cartwright that made him mutter his agreement. “Nay, my lord.”
“Would you like me to stay, my lord?” Sir Dwaine asked.
A quick glance at his knight’s perplexed expression told Rowan that Sir Dwaine was trying to work out why the Earl of Romsey scowled at the servants. Entering the room behind the two men, Sir Dwaine would not have witnessed their reactions.
“Aye. Stay,” Rowan told him, then assessed the servants again.
Drawing himself up to his full height Rowan regarded both men through narrowed eyes. There was something familiar about them but he couldn’t remember having met them before. Something niggled at the back of his brain and his instincts told him he needed to place them. Their reactions suggested they had met and that the meeting had not been pleasant. “Were you both at Collins’ Keep with Lady Lisette?”
Both men had their attention trained to the floor, just in front of their feet, as they shook their heads.
Rowan’s jaw clenched. As much as they denied it something was definitely amiss. “You weren’t at my wedding?”
“Nay,” both denied strenuously.
Why such a strenuous denial? Rowan felt his frown deepen.
Tilting his head thoughtfully, Rowan tapped a finger against his tableau. “Have we met before?”
“Nay.” John shook his head vigorously. “We’ve both lived all our lives at Bridlemere in service ter the Blake family. My lord—”
Rowan cut through his speech. “Are you well, Crofter?” The man had broken out into a sweat and was unsteady on his feet. “A chair, Sir Dwaine.” The knight grabbed a chair hurriedly as ordered, and Rowan guided the man into it.
“Thank yer, my lord,” Crofter mumbled. “I’ll—”
“He’ll be fine, my lord. He has these turns every now and again,” Cartwright rushed. “But, we have news of Lord Blake that we must tell yer about.”
Reassuring himself that Crofter was not about to pass out Rowan gave the other man his attention, but he couldn’t shake his unease. ’Twas as though the man had rushed into speech to distract him from Crofter’s reaction. “Tell me this news.”
There was something not right—a missing piece of a puzzle. Rowan’s instincts had always served him well. Whenever trouble brewed he sensed it. The sense of trouble was strong right now. Despite their denials he was certain he’d met Cartwright and Crofter before. That they would lie about this merely intensified Rowan’s resolve to be on his guard.
“Lord Blake came back from Lady Lisette’s wedding in a black rage,” Cartwright began, still addressing his shoes rather than Rowan. “His temper was severe and he cursed yer name from dawn until dusk.”
Not surprising. Blake had received his public comeuppance at Collins’ keep and wouldn’t have taken kindly to that.
“He started drinking more ale than usual and began talking ’bout gettin’ even with yer.”
“Look at me when you speak to me, man,” Rowan commanded.
Apologies were mumbled quickly, but the faces that finally looked back confirmed Rowan’s suspicion that Cartwright was hiding something.
“Do you have any idea how he planned to do this?”
“He plans to join forces with Baron Baddesley, my lord. He spoke about unitin’ with yer enemies.”
“Those men are fools if they think their forces can stand against yours!” Sir Dwaine scoffed.
“Never underestimate the capability of men who bear a grudge,” Rowan cautioned. “Those who are desperate or deranged pose greater risk as they will chance more without either seeing the inevitability of loss, or without caring whether they live in the face of defeat.” He paced to the window and regarded the strong walls of the castle he now called his home. It would take a far greater force than either Malin or Blake could gather to breach Romsey’s defences. “Do either of you have anything further to add?”
“Nay, my lord,” they answered in unison.
“Cartwright. Crofter. You men may leave. You have my gratitude for escorting Lady Genevieve safely to Romsey Castle, and also for the information you bring.”
The men both appeared to be relieved to be dismissed. They bowed and made a hasty retreat. Crofter had not made eye contact again with Rowan and yet he’d first entered the room with confidence. What had he found so intimidating?
“Dwaine, I want you to have those men watched. Neither of them is to be with the countess alone at any time.” Mayhap they were more foe than friend. ’Twould not do to trust them when they were
so obviously ill-at-ease. Instinct urged him to keep Lisette safe. It may be that the men had been sent by Blake to strike from within the walls of Romsey. He frowned. His gut told him that wasn’t the plan—that something else was afoot. “Watch them closely and report any suspicious behaviour to me.”
“Aye, my lord. Is there anything else?”
“Double the guard. Tell the men to be extra vigilant—especially those who remain at Romsey tomorrow when Sir Richard and I ride out to see King Henry. Lady Lisette’s safety is, of course, paramount.”
“I will see to it at once.”
When Dwaine had taken his leave, Rowan dropped into a chair. He would question Lisette about the two men and urge her to be on her guard, but he could not shake the premonition that something was gravely amiss.
Chapter 16
’Twas late in the eve before Rowan climbed the stairs of the donjon toward the chamber he shared with Lisette. The plans he had made with Richard for their departure the following morn had taken longer than expected. Everything was in place for their journey.
He was divided about his trip to Henry’s court on the morrow. Part of him was jubilant that the king would finally have reason to arrest Malin, and that Lord Blake would also be prevented from any further wrongdoing. A greater part of him regretted the need to part with Lisette.
Taking his wife with him was not an option. The trip would be arduous and although Lisette’s pregnancy was not yet visible, he was conscious that she tired more easily. Not only would he have liked to have had her by his side and presented her at court, but he also had a nagging concern that she would somehow do something rash while he was away and some harm would befall her. ’Twas in her nature to act impetuously and that caused him concern.
God forbid that she should try to rescue anyone from a fire while he was gone!
He groaned aloud. The worrying scenarios were endless. If she thought some baby starling had been abandoned by its mother in a tree she was just as likely to place herself and her child at risk by climbing up the tree and trying to rescue it. It simply didn’t bear thinking about.
