That Knight by the Sea: A Medieval Romance Novella

by Catherine Kean

  When she nodded, he crossed to the table and set down the fare. The scents of bread and cheese rose up to her; her stomach whined.

  “How…?” Clearing her throat, she said, “I was told you had died in France.”

  He picked up a bit of cheese. While watching his hand rise to his mouth, she remembered his fingers trailing over her neck and throat, and the sensations caused by his touch that had delighted and tempted her. And when he’d lightly grazed her collarbone with his teeth—

  She inhaled quickly and looked away.

  “Several times I almost did die,” Garrett said. “When my father perished from sickness, and crown officials were unable to contact me in France to inform me I had inherited, they assumed I had been killed and declared me dead. ’Twas the most efficient option, for it allowed them to award the keep to another lord.”

  She frowned. “You returned to England. The crown knew then that they had made a mistake and that you are alive.”

  “The king and his advisors are aware of the situation. The sovereign offered to cede my sire’s castle back to me, but I declined.”

  “Declined?” To ensure he kept talking, she took a piece of bread. “Why would you turn down what is rightfully yours?”

  “My sire and I…were not on good terms. I did not feel entitled to become ruler of his castle after the terrible things I had said to him.” Garrett had shared the pain of his mother’s abandonment and his bitter argument with his sire with Addy years ago; once again, anguish flickered in his eyes. “Moreover, I have no desire to govern a keep.”

  She broke apart the bread. “Why not?”

  He shrugged, the movement far from indolent. “I do not want to spend my days in that manner.”

  That could well be true, but she sensed there was another, more compelling reason he hadn’t shared with her. Every nobleman aspired to owning a fortress and lands; ’twas what all lords dreamed of achieving.

  “If I change my mind and decide I want a keep,” he added, “the king will grant me one for my years of service to him. I need only ask.”

  How daunting to know he was on such close terms with the sovereign, especially when her sire had spoken out against the king. Yet, she still couldn’t quite believe Garrett wouldn’t want a castle. As ruler, he’d earn respect and power—things he’d wanted very much when he was younger.

  “If you do not mind my asking, how do you earn a living?”

  “I earn it by my sword.”

  She finished chewing some bread. “Are you are a mercenary, then? A knight for hire?”

  “I am.”

  That meant someone had paid him to abduct her. Why? Ignoring an inner cry for caution, she asked, “Who hired you?”

  Wariness etched his features. “I cannot say.”

  She couldn’t let him elude her. Not when she’d finally got him talking. “Was it one of my father’s enemies?”

  “I will not—”

  “Is someone trying to manipulate my father through me?”

  “Addy.”

  She shivered as he said her name. His tone had assumed a similar huskiness years ago when they’d secretly met in a stairwell. He’d pinned her against the wall and had passionately kissed her, his hands in her hair, his tongue thrusting into her mouth again and again, before they’d heard someone else enter the stairwell. Afraid of being discovered, they’d hurried on separate ways, but she’d never forget that that wondrous tryst. “Why will you not tell me who hired you?”

  “’Twas part of the agreement I made.”

  Honor, then, assured his silence. Did their long-ago love mean naught to him? She struggled and failed to keep her voice steady. “Your agreement—the coin you have been or will be paid—is more important to you than I am?”

  A muscle leapt in his jaw.

  “You cared about me once.” It might not be fair to draw upon their past relationship, but she needed to learn what she could from him. Her life could depend on it.

  “I did care about you,” he agreed.

  “In the tailor’s shop, why did you not reveal who you really are?”

  “I did not see any point in you knowing.”

  “Mother Mary!”

  “I was, after all, declared dead.”

  Anger and hurt threatened to overwhelm her. “I vow you did not reveal yourself to me because you are ashamed.”

  “Addy—”

  “Kidnapping is a crime punishable by law. That is why you wanted to remain anonymous. Snatch me, hold me hostage, do whatever else you were hired to do, and then vanish, never to be seen in Cornwall again.”

  He released a huffed breath. “What difference would it have made, for you to know I was alive?”

  I loved you! “At the very least, I would have told you what you were doing was wrong.”

  His eyes flashed.

  “I would have encouraged you to go to the authorities. That would be the right thing to do.”

  Garrett laughed softly, the sound brittle. “Would it? You know naught—”

  “I know honor—true honor—was important to you once.”

  “It still is,” he ground out. “Being honorable, though, is not always a simple matter.”

  She set down her bread, and her chair squealed on the plank floor as she stood. “How is there honor in abducting a lady?”

  “By agreeing to kidnap you, I ensured you were not abducted by someone else.”

  “Someone—?”

  “A brutal thug I did not want anywhere near you.”

  Did Garrett really expect her to believe he’d acted to protect her? His words, though, also indicated he hadn’t been hired by a stranger. He knew the man or men who’d arranged her kidnapping…which meant she had more to glean from him. However, she must be careful that she didn’t drive him away.

  “Can you tell me how long I will be a prisoner?” she asked.

  “I will do what was agreed.”

  “Does that mean days? Sennights?”

  Shaking his head, he turned away.

  Nay! He couldn’t walk out now. She grabbed his arm. “You are not leaving.”

  His gaze settled on her hand, then slowly traveled up her arm to her shoulder and face. A dangerous gleam lit his eyes. “You are going to stop me?”

  ***

  Garrett’s entire body went on alert. Her touch…. ’Twas akin to wildfire rushing up his arm and into his torso and stirring up a wave of desire so powerful, he had to stop himself from hauling her into his arms for a kiss.

  Any other woman would have immediately removed her hand. Addy stared back at-him, her grip firm, her chin raised in defiance. She was more beautiful than he’d ever seen her.

  He yearned to touch her. Kiss her. Make her his in all ways.

  But, she would soon be wed to Ransford. Regardless of how Garrett felt about her, ’twould take a miracle to prevent the wedding from happening.

  Garrett narrowed his eyes, telling her without words that she was to release him.

  “You do not frighten me.”

  “You should fear me.”

  A wry smile curved her mouth. “I do not believe you will hurt me.”

  He wouldn’t. But, he mustn’t appear weak. “You obviously do not know me very well.”

  “I know who you were. That gallant man is still within you.”

  He inwardly flinched, but managed to keep his menacing expression intact.

  Her eyes softened with anguish and resolve. “Garrett, please—”

  “Let go of my arm,” he snarled.

  “Let me help you!”

  “I do not need anyone’s help.”

  “I do not believe that. Whatever trouble you are in—”

  He jerked his arm away, but her fingers clenched into his sleeve. He stilled, unwilling to tear his tunic, for he didn’t own many clothes. Releasing him, she swiftly claimed the distance between them to stand shockingly close.

  Her nearness taunted him. Her scent teased him. God’s bones, how her beauty tempted him, a
nd he curled his hands against the agonizing need to embrace her.

  Gently, she touched his cheek. “Garrett,” she murmured.

  Move away, his mind screamed. But, his body refused to listen. Every part of him craved that incredible love he’d had with her years ago.

  “Garrett,” she whispered, her finger trailing along his jaw line as though she strove to discover who he was now.

  Her finger slid over his skin to touch his lips. Warning buzzed at the back of his mind, but before he could jerk away, she rose on tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his.

  Ah, God.

  Heat. Softness. Pleasure. Sensations rushed through him, so intense, he groaned. Overwhelmed by his feelings, he caught hold of her elbows and tried to shove her away, but she buried her hands into the front of his tunic and held firm. Her mouth continued to move against his in exquisite temptation.

  Torment warred with desire. He didn’t deserve her affection. He didn’t deserve her. Yet, part of him clung to the love and light she offered so selflessly.

  Push her aside. Curtail the kiss. As he reached to do just that, his traitorous arms instead slid around her to hold her close, while their mouths glided together. The warmth and light within him grew steadily stronger.

  A knock sounded on the door. He pulled away from Addy.

  “Garrett.”

  He’d told Corwin not to come up to the tower. The boy wouldn’t have disobeyed, unless he’d had very good reason. “Aye?”

  “You are wanted below,” the lad said from outside the chamber.

  Bloody hell. Had Ransford come for a visit? Why right before nightfall?

  Her lips reddened from their kissing, Addy looked surprised. “That voice belonged to a child.”

  A sense of imminent danger plagued Garrett as he straightened his tunic and then headed for the door.

  “The boy who just spoke. Is he your squire?” she asked. “Your son?”

  Without glancing back, Garrett said, “I will explain later.”

  ***

  Addy dropped down onto the bed and pressed her fingers to her lips. She slowly curled her hand into a fist, as though to capture what was left of Garrett’s kiss and save it forever.

  She’d been bold to kiss him—far bolder than any betrothed maiden should be—but she’d wanted to reach the Garrett she’d loved. The hardened warrior he was now had resisted, but she’d refused to let him get away easily. Their love had been honest and true, and she’d drawn upon that honesty and truth to call forth the gentle, kind, noble lord to whom she’d lost her heart. As she’d believed, she’d glimpsed her Garrett. She’d tasted him in their kiss.

  Hope warmed her, for she must use that connection further. He might be more guarded on his next visit to the tower, but she mustn’t be deterred. She must convince him to do what was right: to let her go and to give up information on those responsible for her abduction. It might be difficult, but she had to do it, for other lives, as well as her own, could be in peril.

  Her hands knotted together in her lap. Still, she felt the wool of his tunic against her palms. Still, she felt the heat of his torso beneath her hands. Still, her skin tingled from the joy of his kisses.

  What sinful feelings…but, she was glad of them. For the first time in many days, she had a purpose. She was going to rescue Garrett.

  ***

  “What is so important?” Garrett asked, while he hung up the key. The lad was fidgeting, a sure sign that all wasn’t well.

  “Stockton is in the great hall. He told me I had to find you right away.”

  Damnation. “What does he want?”

  “I do not know, for he would not tell me. He said he must speak to you.”

  Why had Ransford sent Stockton? His lordship must have known ’twas a risky thing to do. Addy’s guards, along with any townsfolk they’d drawn into the search, would be looking for her. What if the thug had been followed?

  “Come,” Garrett said. The boy close behind him, they descended the stairs.

  Stockton, stuffing bread into his mouth, stood by the hearth. Chewing noisily, he glanced over his shoulder as they neared.

  “Why are you here?” Garrett demanded. Corwin hovered behind him, clearly afraid of the lout.

  “Yer uncle sent me ta check on ye.” As Stockton spoke, bits of food flew from his mouth. He wiped his chin with the sleeve of his cloak.

  “Your visit was unnecessary—”

  “Do ye ’ave the lady?”

  “Of course I have her.”

  “’Ave ye done as ’is lordship asked?”

  Perverse excitement threaded through the lout’s words, which only added to Garrett’s unease. If he admitted he hadn’t injured Addy, would Stockton go up to the tower and hurt her? Garrett would rather die than see Addy mistreated. “You can tell Ransford I am upholding my part of our arrangement.”

  “I will.” Turning away from the fire to face them, Stockton picked at his teeth.

  “Is there aught else?” The sooner this oaf left, the better.

  “’Is lordship will rescue the lady around midday two days from ’ence. Until then, ye are ta make ’er life miserable.”

  Garrett nodded stiffly.

  Behind him, Corwin whimpered, a sound that brought bile to the back of Garrett’s mouth. He’d heard similar gut-wrenching cries from the lad just before rescuing him from his French master.

  “’Is lordship said ta remind ye what’ll ’appen if ye should fail ’im.”

  “He need not worry.”

  “Well, just in case ye run into any problems, ’is lordship ’as me stayin’ at the inn in St. Agnes. Ye can contact me there.”

  After helping himself to more bread from the table, Stockton strode into the forebuilding stairwell that led down to the bailey, where he would have tethered his horse. Once Garrett heard the outer door shut, he expelled a pent-up breath.

  Corwin emerged from behind Garrett. “I do not like that man.”

  “Nor do I. I do not trust him, either.” On Rouen’s streets, the boy had learned to follow folk without being noticed, to pick pockets and steal without being caught: skills that would be useful now. “I do not want him hiding at the keep. Follow him, and report back to me before dark.”

  “I will.” The boy hurried off.

  Garrett set his hands on his hips and stared down at the dusty rushes covering the floor. The silence of the vast, neglected room closed in on him, and so did the guilt. Kidnapping Addy had seemed simple and easy at first. Now, it just felt wrong.

  The whole damned situation felt wrong, as if he were a piece of a much larger puzzle he couldn’t quite fathom.

  Chapter Eight

  Nightfall brought a chill to the tower. Shivering, Addy washed her face and combed her hair with her fingers, doing her best to complete her nightly rituals.

  She plucked a fallen hair from her gown that was badly rumpled and creased. She’d have to sleep in her wedding dress, for she had no other clothes. Her linen chemise would have served as a sleeping garment, but the finely spun cloth was very sheer. She had no wish to be immodest when Garrett could come into the chamber without warning.

  As she walked to the bed, she heard the key in the lock. Garrett entered, a blanket tucked under his arm. Handing it to her, he said, “I meant to bring this earlier, but I was busy with other matters.”

  How curious she was about those other matters, especially after he’d been called away earlier by a young boy. Even more pressing, though, was the need to know more about Garrett, and what had molded him into the man standing before her now.

  Knowing all she could about him would surely help her win him over to helping her.

  She accepted the offering. “Thank you.”

  “As we both know, nights in Cornwall, even in summer, can be cold.”

  So they were still in Cornwall, as she’d suspected.

  She tucked that bit of knowledge away and said, “Did you stay in Cornwall, then, after you left Ferringstow?”

  “F
or a while. Why do you ask?”

  “I am merely curious.” Managing a smile, she said, “I have not seen you in years, after all.”

  He studied her and then his lips tilted up at the corner. “A lot has happened since we parted.”

  “So I gather.” Suddenly, the bittersweet tug of old memories and lost love lingered in the air between them. Sitting on the bed, she asked, “Will you stay awhile and tell me about those years?”

  His smile faded. “I have things—”

  “Please. You need not stay long if you do not want to.”

  Reluctance flickered across his features. She saw guilt and pain, too, swiftly hidden as he assumed control of his emotions. “Very well.”

  He fetched a chair, brought it to the bedside, and then sat, stretching his long legs out in front of him. She tore her gaze from his muscular arms, crossed over his chest. Arms that had held her with such tenderness….

  “Why did you stay in Cornwall?” he asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

  She fingered a crease in her gown’s skirt. “I had no wish to go elsewhere,” she admitted. “The ocean, the wildness of the land…these things are in my blood.”

  He nodded slightly, as though he understood.

  “Instead of sending me away to become a ward at another lord’s castle, my father hired tutors to come to Ferringstow, some of them from as far away as London. They taught me household management and all else I would need to know to be a nobleman’s wife.”

  “I am surprised you did not marry long ago.”

  Her hand curled into the shimmering silk. I never wed, Garrett, because I gave you my heart. I wanted no one else. “I had suitors,” she said, “but none of them were men I wanted to wed.”

  “Until you met the lord to whom you are now betrothed?”

  Addy heard derision in his tone. She coolly met Garrett’s gaze. “I had no choice in my betrothal. The king decreed that I had to wed Lord Ransford, and one does not disobey an order from the crown.”

  His arm braced on the chair arm, Garrett rubbed his fingers down his jaw. “Did you contact the sovereign and try to change his decision?”