A Knight's Desire--World of de Wolfe Pack

by Catherine Kean

  Chuckling, Herta sat beside Rosetta. “There is indeed. Our head gardener has maintained Damsley Keep’s gardens for many years. He used to be a monk, but left monastic life after falling in love with a woman he met in a nearby town. She works in the castle’s kitchens, along with their two sons.”

  “What a romantic story,” Rosetta murmured.

  “His lordship kept the gardens almost exactly as they were before he arrived, except for one addition.”

  “What addition is that?”

  “I will show you.”

  Herta led Rosetta farther down the path. Through a surrounding wall of shoulder-high bushes, Rosetta saw upright stones, not as big as the ones she remembered, but still… “A stone circle,” she breathed.

  “The stones were once much larger. They had been removed from their original site and left by the side of a road. Most of the stones were broken, but his lordship took the best of what was left and had them brought here.”

  Rosetta wandered closer. Fourteen stones, just like the ancient structure on her father’s lands. Two of the stones—just like the circle she remembered—were lying flat on the ground.

  “Why did Lord Blakeley wish to recreate the stone circle?”

  “He did not say,” Herta answered. “I am told he visits here often. Mayhap it reminds him of his childhood?”

  A flush warmed Rosetta’s face. She and Ash had kissed for the first time at the stone circle on her sire’s estate…

  The afternoon sunlight gilded the ancient monument in an orange-yellow glow. As Rosetta wandered through the towering stones, her fingers skimming over the rough, weathered surfaces as she passed by, Ash stood like a victorious king on one that had toppled over and now laid flat on the ground.

  “Do you ever wonder about the people who made this stone circle?” she asked, glancing back at him.

  Hands on his hips, heedless of the dirt smudging his tunic, he shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  “They must have been very clever, to create a monument that is still standing to this day.”

  He jumped down from the fallen stone. “Clever? Like me?”

  She giggled. “Well, to be honest…”

  “Mmm?” He was right in front of her now; that reckless grin she loved so much curved his lips. A heady warmth fluttered inside her, for she’d loved every moment of the afternoon they had spent together. They’d shared a picnic spread out on a cloth on one of the fallen stones, wandered in the nearby field, watched the minnows darting through the creek, and she longed to show him how much he had come to mean to her. She, Edric, and Ash had been friends for years, but what she felt for Ash went beyond friendship.

  “Ash,” she began, not quite knowing how to say what she wanted. In the romantic stories they both loved, the knight always initiated the kiss with the maiden. Would Ash think her overly bold if she told him she longed for him to kiss her?

  He stepped forward, claiming the space between them. As she gazed up at him, anticipation made her heart beat faster and her skin tingle as if icy raindrops had suddenly fallen from the clouds.

  His mouth was so very close. Did she dare to rise up on tiptoes and press her lips to his? Oh, how she longed to! ’Twould be her very first kiss on the lips, and she wanted him to be the one…

  He smiled, as if reading her thoughts. His head lowered. Holding very still, she waited, yearned.

  His mouth touched hers.

  Sensations raced through her: softness, warmth, and pleasure. Joy spread through her whole body, along with an incredible sense of lightness. She was floating, soaring, and as warm inside as sunlight, while he was stone, strong and enduring.

  He lifted his mouth from hers, and their breaths mingled. “May I keep kissing you?” he whispered.

  “I hope you will never stop,” she answered.

  His arm slid around her waist, drawing her in close. With a delighted sigh, she melted into the thrill of his kisses…

  “…be heading back,” Herta was saying. “The midday meal will soon be served.”

  “A-all right.” Rosetta tore her gaze from the standing stones and followed the maidservant back along the paths, wishing they could have stayed longer. Once Rosetta got back to the solar, though, she could—

  A white cloth, stirring in the breeze, caught her attention. A table and two chairs had been set up on the grass, in the shade of the nearest fruit trees. Ash stood in the shadows. As she neared, he reached up, drew down a leafy branch, and picked an apple. The fabric of his tunic shifted, defining the sculpted, well-honed muscles of his shoulders and upper back. His male form was splendid, even if the mere sight of him made her quiver inside.

  Her strides slowed, just as he faced her. He smiled and strode out of the shadows toward her, still holding the apple. He didn’t walk like the gangly boy she’d once kissed. Ash’s slow, swaggered strides warned her he’d grown into a man more than willing to risk all to get what he wanted, and who would not hesitate to tempt a woman he desired and then seduce her.

  “You must be hungry after your walk,” he said, tossing the apple up into the air and catching it. “Would you care for something to eat?”

  ***

  Ash had ordered a simple meal: bread, cheese, pears, red wine, and some of the cook’s special tarts filled with a buttery mix of dates, figs, and almonds. He’d set the apple he’d picked on the table between him and Rosetta, but so far, the fruit hadn’t been eaten.

  Truth be told, he could barely think about what he was putting in his mouth. He’d been looking forward to seeing Rosetta, to wooing her and earning more of her trust, and yet, his emotions churned, riled up by his disagreement with Justin and then finding out someone had been through his private possessions. While Ash didn’t know with absolute certainty, he’d guessed that Rosetta had been the one who had broken into the smaller linen chest; the larger one, thankfully, had not been touched. He’d since removed both chests from the solar and locked them away in a guest chamber, but he still hadn’t found his spare eating dagger.

  Of even more concern was the fact she might have looked at the parchments that contained crown secrets. The information written on those pages was dangerous; divulged to the wrong people, it could even get her killed. He couldn’t bear the thought that inadvertently, he had put her life in even more peril.

  If he accomplished naught else today, he must find out whether or not she’d viewed the parchments—and if she had, he’d have to figure out how to rectify the situation.

  Seated opposite him, Rosetta dined like a delicate bird, eating small morsels and taking care not to rush. He was in torment watching her slip the food into her mouth. He wanted to shove back his chair, lean over the table, and kiss her, to prove as he had last night that he still wanted her, and that she still wanted him too, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself.

  Patience, his conscience reminded him. To win her back, this time forever, you must have patience.

  “—enjoyed the stone circle,” Rosetta was saying, still answering his question from moments ago about what she’d enjoyed most about the garden. Her keen blue gaze met his. “The structure looks just like the one we used to visit when we were younger.”

  “Indeed, it does.”

  “Why? What made you decide to copy it?”

  My love for you, Briar Rose. Always, you.

  He toyed with his uneaten tart, his gloved fingers knocking crumbs of the round pastry onto his plate. “’Twas a place I remembered from my youth, one that held…remarkable memories.”

  Remorse touched her gaze, swiftly veiled by the fall of her lashes.

  Part of his pastry’s shell collapsed; the delicacy was no longer perfectly whole, unblemished. An unexpected spark of anguish raced through Ash, and he removed his hand from the table and curled it into a fist under the drape of the linen cloth, even as Rosetta’s attention shifted to his plate.

  “When did you last visit the standing stones on your sire’s lands?” Ash asked. A casual question, one she might expect
in such a conversation, and yet, he eagerly awaited her answer. If other gold artifacts had been uncovered near the monument and reported to her sire, she might know about them. She might even have told her sire about the ring she’d found.

  Rosetta wiped her mouth on a linen napkin and pushed aside her plate. “I have not been to the stone circle in years.”

  If gold had been discovered, mayhap her sire had forbidden folk to visit the site. “Why have you stayed away?”

  She shrugged. “The place no longer held the same appeal once you and Edric were gone.”

  Ash gritted his teeth. How he hated her speaking of him and Edric in the same breath.

  She studied him, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Why do you suddenly seem angry?”

  If you only knew… “I was reminded of how much has changed since our days at Millenstowe Keep.”

  “I completely agree.” Challenge glittered in her eyes, and his blood heated in acceptance of that challenge.

  Dropping his gaze to the enticing swell of her bosom accentuated by the close-fitting bodice, he murmured, “You are obviously no longer the girl—”

  “I was referring to you, Ash. You are a man I barely recognize.”

  A harsh laugh broke from him. “I did not ask for my scars—”

  “I do not mean your scars.” Regret softened the heat of her stare. “I mean in your attitude, your actions…” A sound of frustration broke from her lips. “How long do you intend to keep me here? My parents will be frantic with worry. ’Tis not fair to them, Ash. And Edric—”

  Ash hissed a breath.

  “I would at least like to send my parents a missive to tell them that I am all right.”

  “I am sure you would,” Ash muttered.

  Her frown deepened. “Does that mean you agree to me sending a note?”

  “When I believe circumstances warrant it, I will send a missive to your father.”

  “When, exactly, will that be? And what about Edric? Can I send him a missive, or are you going to make him worry, too?”

  Edric again. Rage gathering inside him like winter storm, Ash leaned back in his chair. “I admire your concern for those you care about, Briar Rose. Surely, though, you should be more worried about yourself.”

  She folded her hands atop the table. “You might not be the same young lord I once knew, but I believe you are still a gallant knight governed by the rules of chivalry.”

  Ash’s head dipped in acknowledgment. “True—”

  “Therefore, despite your brazen act of kidnapping me, I do not believe you will mistreat me. Indeed, you would be very foolish to do so, since both my sire and my betrothed live within a few leagues of your castle and have strong armies. They will not hesitate to retaliate if I come to harm.”

  Ah, God, but she was extraordinary. Once again, she was a warrior queen, resolved to fight until her last breath. Smothering an admiring smile, he said, “Also true, but I was not referring to your being harmed.”

  Puzzlement crept into Rosetta’s eyes. “Did you mean I should be thinking about finding a way to escape?”

  He held her gaze, waited for the flicker of uncertainty he knew would appear. The breeze whispered through the tree boughs, the sound marking the strained silence between them.

  “Very well,” she conceded. What did you mean?”

  “You must have known I would discover what you had done…although I still have not figured out exactly how you accomplished it. Hairpins, mayhap?”

  Her face paled.

  “You were very bold to go through my belongings.”

  “You were very bold to kidnap me.”

  He stared at her across the remnants of their meal. Judging by her glare, she wasn’t going to back down. She was more likely to grab the apple and hurl it in his face, as she had done with the wine the other night. He really didn’t want a black eye.

  Ash reached over, picked up the fruit, and took a bite.

  “If you expect me to apologize, Ash—”

  He finished chewing the mouthful of crisp, juicy apple. “I would appreciate an apology. My linen chests were locked for good reason. However, since you now know what I have in my possession, there are crucial matters we must discuss.”

  ***

  Crucial matters. Judging by Ash’s tone of voice, they were very important indeed.

  She pushed her shoulders back as a shiver of dread rippled through her. She must remain strong; de Wolfe strong. While she wouldn’t normally have dared to go through his belongings—the lord of the castle’s possessions—these weren’t normal circumstances.

  Whatever Ash wanted to talk about, she hoped she’d finally get some answers. If he tried to avoid divulging any information to her, she would persist. After all, if her mother were in such a predicament, she’d never yield.

  Ash bit off more of the apple. Juice glistened on his lips. He was roguishly handsome even when he ate, which was most annoying. She looked away, wishing she could forget how wondrous she’d found his kisses—even the forbidden one last night.

  He dropped the rest of the apple onto his plate. Glancing toward the keep, Ash rose and held out his hand to her. “Come.”

  She didn’t move. “Why?”

  “The breeze is strengthening. I do not want our words being carried to others who should not overhear.”

  A fair point. She rose, but pointedly ignored his hand.

  He motioned to the stone path, and she walked alongside him as they strolled back through the rose beds. The blooms’ fragrance wafted in the air, and she pushed aside memories of the bouquets of wild roses he’d given her years ago. Sometimes he had left a single bloom on her chair in Millenstowe Keep’s great hall. He’d even left roses on her pillow, with notes saying he hoped she would dream about him all night. There had been no notes or roses, though, in the weeks since his return to England.

  He led her to the bench by the fish pond and she sat, smoothing out her skirts. With a sigh, he sat down beside her, braced his arms on his knees, and leaned forward, his gaze on the water. How foolish that she was tempted to put her arm around his shoulders and rest her head against him, as she’d done so many times before.

  “Do you remember that gold ring you found years ago?” Ash finally said, his hushed voice no louder than the hum of a swooping dragonfly.

  “Of course.”

  He glanced at her. “Do you still have it?”

  “Aye. ’Tis safely hidden.” Meeting his gaze, she added, “I never told my father about it.”

  Ash nodded before looking back at the water. “Two days ago, another piece of ancient gold was found.”

  Shock jolted through her. “Was it more jewelry?”

  “Nay, a coin. It bears similar designs, though, to what were on your ring.”

  “You would know,” she said, “since you drew a copy of the ring.”

  A wry laugh broke from him. “So I guessed correctly. You did examine the parchments.”

  A sense of entrapment taunted her. He’d neatly backed her into that verbal corner—not that she would have lied if he had asked her directly. “I was curious—”

  “Did you look at all of the parchments?”

  “Aye.”

  “You do remember what you saw?”

  “I do. You used to tease me about my good memory, remember?”

  Shaking his head, he groaned. “Damnation, Briar Rose.”

  His obvious dismay made her breath hitch. “Mayhap I should not have read them, but I wanted to know…what you had done in the years since we parted.”

  “And what did you deduce from the parchments?”

  She swept aside a dragonfly that had landed on her skirts. “Not a great deal, except that someone had made a list of the names of a number of Warwickshire lords. ’Twas not a list you had compiled, though; I know your handwriting. I couldn’t figure out the reason why those particular names, and not others, were on the list.”

  Ash picked up a rock from the ground and tossed it into the pond. Then
, holding her gaze with an earnestness that pierced her straight to her soul, he said, “I wish you had not seen what was written on those documents. Now that you have, though—”

  “—I should be told exactly what they mean,” she finished. “I agree.”

  His expression shadowed with concern. “What I will tell you is not to be shared with anyone. I should not even be telling you. Do you understand?”

  Excitement and misgiving warred within her. How wonderful that he trusted her enough to confide in her. Yet, what could be so crucial that she couldn’t discuss it with anyone else? Had he discovered the location of a lost hoard of ancient treasure, to which her ring and the coin belonged? “If you insist, Ash, but—”

  “I do insist.” His hushed voice was a near growl. “Moreover, if you can elaborate upon what I tell you, you will not hesitate to share your knowledge with me. Agreed?”

  She doubted she knew more about the riches than he did, but she nodded.

  “The drawing,” he began, “I made years ago because I believed that your ring was part of a vast trove. I felt ’twas important to document all aspects of the artifact, in case others were found—or your ring was lost or stolen.”

  “Have you found more gold? Do you know where the treasure is hidden?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “The ring and coin are the only proof I have. Yet, there are tales that go back hundreds of years that tell of extraordinary riches to be found in these lands.”

  “I have heard some of those stories,” she said. “My father told me about them when I was a child. When I asked about finding the treasure, he laughed and said that there was not likely anything left to find; any riches buried in the ground by ancient kings would have been dug up long ago. The tales have persisted, though, because they appeal to folk who dream of a better life.”

  Ash nodded. “I might have believed the stories were no more than folk tales, too, except for the ring and coin.”