Edouard felt Juliana tremble as he brought her before his father. Discreetly wriggling her fingers free, she dropped into a curtsey.
“Father,” Edouard said, then noticed Dominic pressing a hand over a wound on his arm bandaged with a strip of cloth. “Are you all right?”
“Tye managed to cut me before we grabbed his weapon and subdued him,” Dominic said. “I am glad I am not dead. He is an impressive swordsman. He could easily have slashed my ribs instead of my forearm.”
Ignoring the unwelcome praise of Tye, Edouard asked, “Are you badly wounded?” Of all his father’s friends, he held the greatest respect for Dominic, who’d always treated him like a son.
“I shall live.” Dominic waggled his eyebrows. “I am sure my lovely wife will take excellent care of me whilst I recover.”
Edouard chuckled, while Dominic’s attention slid to Juliana. His gaze lit with a curious sparkle—one that hinted of news Edouard did not yet know. Was it related to the matter his sire wished to discuss?
Impatience gnawed at Edouard, and he settled his gaze on his father. “As you ordered, we found Landon’s ring.” He held the gold band out to his sire. “Juliana has the other jewels.”
“Good.” His sire took the ring and slid it onto his finger.
“Mayda left her jewelry to Juliana. She wanted Juliana to sell the jewels to support her and the Ferchantes’ babe, if ill befell Mayda.”
“I see.” His sire frowned again. “Juliana, you witnessed Mayda’s killing. It seems she anticipated her husband’s murderous rage. Did she sense that she might need to also protect her child’s life?”
“Aye, milord,” Juliana said. “When she gave birth to a daughter, not a son, she was terrified of Landon rejecting the babe.”
Edouard’s sire exhaled a sigh tinged with disbelief. “As the parent of a beautiful, intelligent daughter, I cannot imagine. Landon clearly became someone other than the lord I believed I knew and could trust.” His somber gaze locked with Edouard’s. “I am sorry for sending you into a trap. If I had known—”
“Father, I understand.”
Relief crept into his sire’s features. Then he asked, “What of the duty I asked you to conduct?”
Edouard knew his father spoke of the secret meeting to ask Landon to join their rebellion against King John. No doubt his sire wanted to know if Landon might have told Veronique and Tye about it. “I was unable to fulfill what you asked of me. I was taken captive upon riding into the bailey. ’Tis the only time I saw Landon alive.”
His sire nodded, and Edouard sensed his gladness that their ambitions against the king hadn’t been revealed. “In coming days, Son, there will be a need for meetings like the one I asked you to conduct with Landon, if you are willing.”
“I am.”
A smile softened his father’s features. “Good. I regret that you and Lady de Greyne endured such appalling treatment here. I am pleased, though, that in the end, you are unharmed and all has resolved well.”
“If I may, milord,” Juliana said, her voice wavering, “Rosemary still has to be found. Azarel knows where she is. With your permission, I would like to ride to the village and bring her home.”
Shouts carried from where Veronique and Tye were surrounded, and his lordship glanced at them. Appearing satisfied that all was in order, he looked back at Juliana. “With prisoners still to be dealt with in the bailey, I cannot spare men to ready your horse and escort you on that journey. However, I will speak to Azarel about Rosemary’s whereabouts.”
Disappointment glinted in Juliana’s eyes, but she merely smiled. “Thank you, Lord de Lanceau.”
Reaching out, Edouard caught her hand. Her fingers were cool and clammy, and he wished he could take her in his arms and give her a comforting hug.
“Geoffrey,” Dominic muttered. “For God’s sake. Tell him.”
Edouard frowned. “Tell me what?”
With a polite but dismissive smile, his sire turned to Juliana. “Will you excuse us a moment, Lady de Greyne?”
“Of course.” She curtsied, then strolled in the direction of the forebuilding, where Azarel was stitching the arm of a wounded knight. The way the sunlight played upon Juliana, accenting her willowy body . . . Edouard silently groaned. He had to address the issue of his unwanted betrothal.
Looking back at his sire, he said, “What must you tell me?”
His father, expression grim, shook his head. “I fear there is no easy way to say it.”
“Say what?”
“Nara is . . . with child.”
All of the air whooshed out of Edouard’s lungs. A merciless knot formed in his stomach. “Wait a moment.” He hauled in a strangled breath. “I did not . . . Nara and I did not . . . We never—”
“I know. Dominic has confirmed you were living at his keep, fighting to protect his lands, and as celibate as a monk around the time Nara’s babe was conceived.”
A stunned chuckle broke from Edouard.
“’Tis a great dishonor,” his father went on, “for her to have betrayed you in this way.”
The odd warmth in his sire’s voice made Edouard pause. “Honor is the reason I was forced into a betrothal to her.”
“Aye. Lord de Greyne is most embarrassed about the situation and furious with Nara. As you are aware, he and I desired a blood alliance between our families. We have decided, however, she will marry the father of her babe, who is a man-at-arms in her sire’s garrison. You are no longer bound to your betrothal.”
Relief rushed up inside Edouard, breaking from him in a roar. “’Tis wondrous news!”
Raising his eyebrows, his sire said, “I am glad you are not too upset.”
Heat warmed Edouard’s face. Now was the right moment. There couldn’t be a better one to talk about Juliana. Refusing to break his sire’s perceptive stare, he said, “I ask your permission, Father—”
“Permission?” His sire’s gaze slid to Dominic.
“I wish to marry Juliana.”
“Ah. The sister that I believed might be well suited to you?”
Was that teasing mirth in his parent’s eyes? Edouard said, “Aye.”
His sire studied him a long moment. Sweat slid down Edouard’s spine. Did his father expect him to explain why? Divulge what qualities made her the right lady to be his wife? Admit that the thought of spending even one day without her left him empty inside?
“I love her,” Edouard finally said. “I want no other woman.”
“Well, you will need her father’s approval—”
“I will ask it at my first opportunity—”
“—as well, but since a betrothal between you was favored before . . .”
As well. Edouard barely held down a triumphant whoop.
“Do you agree then, Father?” He waited, holding his breath.
“I do.”
Edouard loosed an elated shout.
“With Juliana entrusted with caring for Rosemary, though, you will not just become a husband, but a father. These are great responsibilities. Are you ready for them?”
His sire spoke true. The thought of raising a babe was indeed daunting, but Juliana would teach Edouard what he needed to know. Stronger than the uncertainty niggling at him was a tremendous sense of excitement, a knowing that he’d face each day’s challenges with her. Together.
“I am ready.”
Admiration sparkled in his sire’s eyes. “You are. I am proud of you, Son.”
“As am I.” Dominic smiled.
“Waddesford Keep needs a new lord,” his sire went on, “a nobleman who knows his responsibilities. The folk here will support and no doubt welcome you, especially if you marry Juliana.”
“You mean . . .” Shock made Edouard’s head reel. “I am to be appointed lord of this keep?”
His sire grinned. “An early wedding gift. That is, if you want this fortress?”
“Aye!” He glanced to where Juliana stood beside Azarel, chatting and smiling while helping to fasten a bandage.
<
br /> “Does she know you will propose marriage?” Dominic asked.
“Not yet. I feel certain, though, she wants to wed, too.”
“And you did not even have to push her into a well to convince her.”
“Dominic,” Edouard’s sire muttered, with a hint of laughter.
“Sorry. I could not resist.” Wincing as he moved, Dominic shook Edouard’s hand. “I am pleased for you. I trust you and Juliana will be very happy together.”
“Thank you.” Edouard glanced again at Juliana. Love, pride, and excitement coalesced within him like a bright fire.
Go to her. Don’t wait another moment to make her yours.
Grinning, he said, “I must speak to Juliana. Before I do, Father, may I request a favor of you?”
***
“Why have you brought me to the garden, Edouard? Azarel needs my help to tend the wounded.” Unable to quell her restlessness, Juliana glanced at the bailey. Edouard had waited for her while she’d helped Azarel care for a wounded knight, but there were many injured. She wanted to be useful, especially when she couldn’t leave for the village to get Rosemary.
Seated beside her on the stone bench beneath the tree, Edouard said, “Azarel has quite a few servants helping her. I vow she can manage without you for a few moments. And”—his tone softened—“what I must tell you is too important to wait.”
Her heart fluttered. Judging by his expression, his sire had told him something momentous, no doubt related to Nara. Juliana braced herself for unfavorable news. “Go on,” she said.
His attention fell to her hands, clenched in her lap. Turning so that his knees bumped her legs, he leaned over and took both of her hands in his. The brush of his warm skin, slightly damp with sweat, was almost more than she could bear.
“Edouard—” she pleaded.
“There is . . . something I must say. But I must say it the right way.”
Before she could try and guess his intentions, he released her hands and dropped to one knee on the grass. Light spilled through the overhead boughs onto him as he took her right hand. He suddenly looked nervous.
Her heart thundered in her breast. Mayhap she’d heard too many romantic chansons, but surely he wouldn’t be down on one knee unless . . .
Shaking his head, he set her hand back into her lap. “’Tis not right at all.”
“Edouard! What . . ?”
He reached under the bench and snapped a long blade of grass, then picked up her hand again. Lifting her ring finger, he looped the grass around it several times. Then he tied the ends to form a makeshift ring.
Her eyes filling with tears, she stared at him. “How can this be? You are betrothed to Nara.”
“Not any longer. She is with child. Not my child.” Edouard’s eyes sparkled. “Another man’s.”
Shock rushed through Juliana. “I did not know.”
“I vow ’tis not yet common knowledge. My sire informed me a short while ago. Because of the circumstances, I am no longer bound to marry Nara.”
Juliana’s indrawn breath froze in her lungs. “Really?”
“Really.” Edouard kissed the grass ring he’d made her. Then he lifted his head to meet her gaze. “Will you be my wife, Juliana?”
Joy raced through her.
“I asked my father for his permission. He agreed.” Looking at his makeshift ring, Edouard said, “’Tis not an appropriate ring for a betrothal, but if you agree . . .”
“Aye.”
His gaze flew up. “Aye . . . As in . . ?”
Turning her hand to weave her fingers through his, she said, “I will be honored to be your wife.”
He swallowed, the happiness in his features tinged with anxiety. “You must know . . . I am not asking just . . . because I am no longer betrothed to Nara.” He kissed their joined hands. “I love you, Juliana. I believe I have loved you since you told me ‘goodbye’ at Sherstowe.”
Surprise fluttered through her. “Why then?”
Grudging laughter rumbled from him. “You made me acknowledge my flaws. Because of you, I came to realize that even a wealthy lord’s son must earn respect—and his lady’s love.”
How earnestly he spoke. Yet his honest words buoyed the elation inside her. Unable to restrain her gladness any longer, she smiled. “I love you, Edouard de Lanceau, my soon-to-be husband.”
He grinned. “Soon-to-be husband and . . .”
The glint in his eyes hinted at astounding news. “And?” she echoed.
“Lord of Waddesford Keep.”
“Edouard! Oh—!”
“’Tis all right with you? I know this keep holds many ‘ghosts’ for both of us.”
“Together, we shall bring love and happiness to this castle. In Mayda’s honor. If ’tis all right with you?”
“Aye.” Edouard smiled and rose to stand before her, tall and beautiful and . . . hers.
The thought left a delicious, tingling burn in her belly as he drew her to her feet and slid his arms around her waist, drawing her in close. She fell gently against him, her bosom pressed to the front of his hauberk. Love for him soared inside her as she embraced him, washed in shadow and sunlight.
“I am glad you are happy, Lady de Greyne, my soon-to-be wife and lady of this keep.”
“I would be even happier,” she murmured, hardly recognizing her throaty voice, “if you kissed me.”
Desire gleamed in his eyes. “A kiss with meaning?” he said, his mouth tantalizingly close.
An excited shudder raced through Juliana, for he’d remembered her impassioned words from long ago.
“A kiss that proves the love between us?” he added huskily, his eyes glowing with that thrilling blue fire. A roguish grin kicked up his mouth.
“A kiss that proves we were destined to be together,” she whispered, while her breath mingled with his.
“We were,” he whispered back. His arms shifted, squeezing her hips even tighter against his.
She slid up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.
A ravenous growl broke from him. She inhaled on a gasp as his mouth swept against hers. So tenderly. As though she was extremely precious to him.
Over and over and over their lips met. Tender kisses. Rougher ones. He groaned and his tongue slid into her mouth, deepening the shocking, breathless, wondrous contact. Oh, God. Oh. God.
The burn within her intensified until every tiny part of her body seemed ablaze with hunger.
Drawing back, she shivered through a gasp. “I never imagined a kiss could be so . . . magnificent.”
Edouard winked. “Shall we indulge in another?”
A sound intruded into her bliss: footfalls, drawing near.
Still in Edouard’s embrace, Juliana looked to see who approached. Azarel strode into the garden, a baby cradled in her arms.
“Rosemary!” Juliana cried.
Smiling, Azarel nodded. “Lord de Lanceau sent one of his warriors to the village to collect her. A favor, I am told, for his son.”
“Edouard, thank you,” Juliana cried, stepping from his hold to take Rosemary into her arms. “She has grown.” The little girl warbled. Eyes wide, she stared up at Juliana.
Juliana smiled. How complete she felt. How very, very loved.
Beside her, Edouard chuckled. He slid an arm around her waist and kissed her flushed cheek. “Are you happy, Juliana?”
“I am.”
“Good. I mean to keep you happy for the rest of your living days.” He kissed her again, a slow, passionate mingling of their mouths.
“That was wonderful,” she breathed.
He growled against her ear, a low, lusty sound that told her he’d not only kiss her in that way again, but that he’d share many more sensual delights with her. “I promise you, ’tis only the beginning of my persuasion.”
—The End—
Other eBooks by Catherine Kean:
Bound by His Kiss (Novella)
Dance of Desire
My Lady’s Treasure
A Knight’
s Vengeance (Knight’s Series Book 1)—Geoffrey de Lanceau’s story
A Knight’s Reward (Knight’s Series Book 2)—Dominic’s story
A Knight’s Temptation (Knight’s Series Book 3)—Aldwin’s story
A Knight’s Persuasion (Knight’s Series Book 4)—Young Edouard de Lanceau’s story
***
Available Winter 2013:
A Knight’s Seduction (Knight’s Series Book 5)—Tye’s story
More from Catherine Kean
If you enjoyed A Knight’s Persuasion by Catherine Kean, look for her award-winning medieval romance Dance of Desire. Read on to sample the first two chapters . . .
Dance of Desire
She risked everything in one seductive dance . . .
Disguised as a veiled courtesan, Lady Rexana Villeaux dances for Fane Linford, the new High Sheriff of Warringham. Desperate to distract him while her servant steals the missive that condemns her brother as a traitor to the Crown, she entices Fane with all the passion in her soul—and he is tempted.
A hero of the crusades, Fane has been granted an English bride by the king. Fane wants only one woman: the exquisite dancer. When he discovers she’s actually a highborn lady, and that her rebellious brother is imprisoned in his dungeon, he will have no other wife but her.
Rexana doesn’t want to become the sheriff’s bride, but it may be the only way to save her brother. Yet, as she learns more about her brooding husband tormented by barbaric secrets, she finds it harder and harder to deny his love or their dance of desire.
Dance of Desire
Chapter One
Tangston Keep, England, 1192
“I do not like this wretched scheme, milady.”
Lady Rexana Villeaux shivered in the icy night wind that whipped into Tangston Keep’s forebuilding. “I know, Henry, but ’tis the only way to get the list of traitors.”
She drew against the stone wall, into the shadows at the bottom of the stairs. Bawdy laughter and the music of lute and drum carried down into the passage from the great hall. As she smoothed the veil covering her nose and mouth and the silk over her head, tiny bells tinkled at her wrists. The jewelry’s weight pressed upon her skin, a foreign sensation.
A Knight's Persuasion (Knight's Series Book 4) Page 31
