‘Because I wanted to see what it was like, of course.’
She sighed and her shoulder dropped with an unwittingly seductive ripple. ‘It wasn’t very interesting kissing Tom or Matthew and I think Wat was too nervous of me. I wouldn’t want a man who jumped when I entered the room.’
Robbie sniggered.
‘I’m not surprised you scared Wat. He would flee from a sheep if it started unexpectedly. You must have terrified him!’
‘It isn’t funny.’
Rowenna glared and Robbie bit his lip to keep from laughing further. He might have been scared himself if he had been planning to kiss her all along, but it had been a complete impulse, the desire overwhelming any sense he possessed and surprising him as much as it had surprised her.
Rowenna tilted her head and looked at him with catlike eyes, her full lips curling into a beguiling smile that caused his heart to thump.
‘You weren’t too scared to kiss me.’
Was she implying the kiss was better? Her voice held the same tone of challenge that in their childhood had seen Robbie drawn into some reckless escapade or other that usually ended in a whipping or loss of sweetmeats. He refused to rise to it now. Still, he felt back on familiar ground with easy playful teasing.
Yes, better to keep jesting. Anything to distract him from what he would rather be doing with her. He stepped closer, swaggering a little, and bent his head over hers. He put two fingers under her chin and tilted her head up.
‘Nothing you could do would scare me, Rowenna Danby.’
Madden, certainly. Infuriate, definitely. Arouse, disconcertingly yes. But not scare him.
‘And would you be too scared to kiss me again?’
She dipped her head and looked at him through her eyelashes. If she was aiming for a demure expression, she was failing utterly. She giggled suddenly. A bubbling sound that made Robbie want to join in. She was being playful now, with no trace in her eyes of the unsettling sensuality that had knocked Robbie off his feet, but with a devilry that was just as enticing in its own way. Rowenna in a playful mood might be just as fun to kiss, if not more, but now Robbie was in full command of his body and had no intention of trying to find out. Clearly the kiss had been nothing more than an amusing diversion for Rowenna. Robbie was uncomfortably aware of the feelings that were budding within him and he was not going to risk further awakening them and repeating the desperate, unrequited longing that had plagued him over Mary.
Mary!
Robbie writhed with shame. He been planning to spend as much of the evening as possible with Mary with the aim of declaring his love for her, but instead he had brought another woman to a concealed part of the gardens, sat intimately on the bench and kissed her. He was behaving like a complete rogue. He was not sure whom he had betrayed more. Then again, Rowenna knew he loved Mary and had kissed him back anyway.
‘It shouldn’t have happened,’ he said firmly.
He glanced back to the Common Hall, guilt prickling up and down his spine once again. Rowenna followed his gaze, then looked at Robbie, all merriness gone from her eyes.
‘You’re right. I thank you for a particularly interesting evening. I think I shall go home now.’ She adjusted the neck of her gown, which had become pushed askew, and began to walk away.
‘You can’t go alone!’ Robbie called in alarm.
She smiled back at him over one shoulder. ‘I won’t. My father arranged for Geoffrey to escort me. There are people you’d rather be with.’
She had hesitated before she said people and Robbie knew exactly whom she referred to. No barb could have wounded him more than the look of resignation in her eyes.
‘No, there aren’t.’
As he spoke, he realised he meant it. No one mattered as much as she did. His devotion to her intensified, blossoming into something deeper and altogether more terrifying. How had he not seen before how deeply he cared for her?
He rushed to her side, but the stiffening of her whole frame as he approached brought him up short. He held himself rigid because the alternative was to take hold of her again and demonstrate how much he wanted to hold her, touch her and keep her close. To do much, much more than kiss her. If Sir John himself had asked Robbie to make his oath of chastity, he would have laughed in his master’s face. If the Bishop of York had appeared, he would have married her on the spot.
‘Rowenna, I—’
Robbie had never been grateful for his difficult tongue, but now he blessed it for preventing him declaring he loved her and making a fool of himself. ‘If you truly wish to go, then I will take you home,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
She broke into a smile and before Robbie could catch a breath, she put her hand to his jaw and kissed him once again, taking her time to pull her lips from his. The world felt like a frozen pond with cracks beginning to appear beneath Robbie’s feet. One false step would see him plunge beneath the waters. He escorted Rowenna to a seat in the hall and explained he would retrieve her cloak. He had taken no more than five paces further when Cecil barred his way.
‘You stole my partner, Rob. Twice!’
‘You mean liberated!’
Rowenna hadn’t been an unwilling partner to Cecil, though. The unpleasant thought occurred to him that she might have been equally happy to go outside if Cecil had asked her. If she was free with her kisses, she might not care whom she gave them to. It made Robbie writhe in misery to think that what they had done might have meant little to her.
‘She looks good in red,’ Cecil mused. ‘If you’re not intending to make use of her, perhaps I’ll see if I can persuade her to come out with me and I’ll see if I can give her a green gown instead. She seems the kind of girl who wouldn’t take much coaxing to gratify a man.’
Robbie’s temper flared, both at the dreadful pun and the act Cecil’s euphemism referred to.
‘She’s my cousin,’ he snarled, bunching his fist. ‘And you’re asking for a beating!’
He would have gladly administered it, but at that moment the music died away.
‘Ah,’ Cecil murmured. ‘She mentioned a cousin, but I didn’t know it was you or I’d have been a little more prudent. I must beg your forgiveness. I was jesting, of course.’
Robbie smiled tightly. He felt again the protective instinct that had made him so determined to warn Rowenna away from Cecil.
‘Excuse me, I have left Rowenna waiting for too long.’
He bowed his head stiffly and turned to leave, but a single trumpet sounded a lone note, indicating something was about to happen. The Lord Mayor of York, Simon de Quixlay, appeared from a small antechamber and stepped on to the raised dais at the end of the room. Simon de Quixlay waited for silence before he spoke, describing the carnage and violence that had taken place, praising the city militia and the knights, nobles and squires who had come to the aid of the city.
‘As Mayor of York, I intend to remind the citizens that our country is well defended from such untoward attempts at wresting control from their betters,’ said de Quixlay. With a smile and arms wide to demonstrate his largesse, he announced the forthcoming ceremony of knighthood and the names of those who were to be honoured. Robbie’s name was among them. He could not join Rowenna now. With a sinking heart, he stepped forward to the dais to stand with four other squires he did not know.
Mayor de Quixlay addressed him. ‘You acquitted yourself well over the past two days, I’m told, Master Danby. The city should not have been subjected to such turmoil. The peasantry are in danger of forgetting their place and the mood is still volatile.’
Robbie bowed. There had been peasants and beggars, but Robbie had also seen shopkeepers, tradesmen and labourers taking the opportunity to vent their frustrations at the elite who squeezed them more and more.
He scanned the room as thunderous applause filled the air. Mary was standing with Amy Mortimer, Lady
Isobel’s maid. She wore a serene smile on her face. Robbie met her eye briefly and moved on, searching for Rowenna. He spotted her beside the door, her smile ecstatic. The two women could not have been more different. Rowenna clad in scarlet and glowing, Mary in palest blue, shimmering. Fire and ice. The sun and moon. Robbie was conscious that the balance of his affections had tipped firmly in Rowenna’s direction. How fortunate he had never declared his infatuation openly to Mary.
‘You’re supposed to be happy, not staring at the wall,’ Cecil hissed in his ear.
Robbie smiled, though he did not feel it. As the musicians started again he turned to receive the congratulations of the men and women who clustered around him. Mary was among them. He murmured pleasantries, eyes returning to the spot where Rowenna stood. He began to edge through the crowd towards her, but a hand on his sleeve made him pause. Mary was at his side. Robbie bit back the frustration that filled him at being prevented from joining Rowenna. Mary turned her watery blue eyes on him.
‘I never saw you again after you left to take your message. Someone as dashing as you should have been easy to spot.’
‘I... M-my cousin,’ Robbie murmured, taken aback at being called dashing. ‘W-we went to the garden to take the air. She was feeling faint.’
He glanced across in time to see Geoffrey Vernon appear at Rowenna’s side. Rowenna spoke briefly and Geoffrey scuttled away, leaving her alone again.
‘How unfortunate!’ Irritation flashed across Mary’s face. It was the first time Robbie had seen the emotion there and it was startling to see how her features turned from serene to icy. He blinked in surprise, wondering if he had been mistaken. Mary followed Robbie’s gaze and her eyes hardened.
‘Is that woman your cousin? I have heard about her father and pity the poor girl. To be stained with illegitimacy is a trial.’
Mary’s nose wrinkled in obvious distaste and, for all her beauty and charm, Robbie despised her at that moment.
‘Excuse me. Rowenna is waiting for me.’ He took a step towards Rowenna, but Mary held his sleeve. He could not physically shake her off without appearing rude.
‘She seems to have recovered from her swoon. And appears to be leaving with someone else.’
Geoffrey had reappeared, bearing Rowenna’s cloak. A chill passed over Robbie as Rowenna turned one way, then the other, smiling at him as he passed it around her shoulders. Geoffrey held out an arm. Before she took it, Rowenna’s eyes roved around the room once more. They landed on Robbie, then on Mary at his side. She raised her hand and gave a gentle wave of farewell before placing it on Geoffrey’s arm. She might as well have stuck a hook into Robbie’s chest and pulled his intestines out as she walked away. His stomach filled with bile. She had given up waiting for Robbie to find her and, worse, had seen him with Mary. No wonder she accepted Geoffrey’s company. Remembering that Hal hoped for a marriage between them, Robbie hoped desperately that was all she would accept that night.
‘I have seen you looking at me, Master Danby, but naturally modesty has forbidden me from talking to you until tonight,’ Mary murmured in a manner that did not seem modest to Robbie. ‘Perhaps I might allow you to call on me tomorrow and we can become better acquainted. I am sure my uncle would allow it.’
She lifted her face, pushing her lips into a bud, clearly hoping to be kissed. Caught by surprise, Robbie dipped his head but regained his presence of mind and did not let his lips meet hers. Instead, he lifted her hand and brushed his lips across the back of it.
‘Master Danby, you promised me a second dance, but you broke your oath,’ Mary said, her voice smooth as cream. ‘A knight would not do that, would he?’
Her implication was clear and he felt a ripple of disdain. She had shown no interest in him before, but a future baron who had been brought to the attention of the assembled nobility and influential citizens of York was not beneath her notice.
He would have excused himself, but the other four knights-in-waiting were standing with their partners and Robbie was expected to lead the measure. With everyone watching it was impossible to decline without causing Mary offence. Robbie bowed with a flourish and led Mary to the centre of the floor.
Chapter Eleven
Daylight exploded into the room. Rowenna woke with a jolt in a tangle of sheets and a consciousness of Robbie’s lips on hers. They had been kissing with frantic passion, bodies pressing close while their hands stroked and explored each other in increasingly intimate ways. The sensations had been so realistic that she pulled her coverlet up high to conceal him from discovery, but she was alone in her bed. It had been a dream.
‘Good morning, Lady Layabed. Time to rise.’
Rowenna’s mother was bustling around the room with her customary briskness, chiding her daughter for leaving the new gown on the floor where she had stepped out of it, rearranging trinkets on the dresser and gathering discarded ribbons. Rowenna let the monologue wash over her and avoided eye contact until her breath came more easily and the feelings of excitement subsided. There was no way Joanna could guess what Rowenna had been dreaming of, but all the same, Rowenna felt a pang of shame that she had been interrupted in the middle of such sensual acts.
She sat up and hugged her knees before she recalled it had not only been a dream but a glorious reality. The night before she had abandoned all decorum and encouraged Robbie to kiss her and he had responded eagerly and expertly. It had been the most enthralling moment of Rowenna’s life, the shiver down her spine and surging of her blood far surpassing all her previous kisses rolled into one. They had been enjoyable and diverting, but nothing more than that—pleasant while they lasted, but leaving her untouched. When Robbie had kissed her, the minutes had stretched into hours and shrunk to the blink of an eye at the same time. Her body had come alive and she could not have told what day it was from the overpowering confusion that filled her mind. She must have sighed aloud because her mother stopped folding blankets and came to the bed.
‘Did you enjoy yourself? I heard the door last night. Did Geoffrey stop to take a cup of wine with Hal?’
Geoffrey! Who cared what he had done? Rowenna shrugged. She had evaded her father, leaving the two men alone, and gone directly to her room where she had been able to vent her frustration and relive her delights in privacy.
Joanna indicated a cup of milk and honey on the table. ‘You should drink that. You look pale. Are you feeling ill? Did you drink more wine than was wise last night?’
Rowenna shook her head to all questions, but Joanna did not look convinced. She sat on the edge of the mattress, held her daughter’s hands tightly and raised her eyebrows. Rowenna realised she was trembling, but her cheeks were hot enough to be scarlet. The flames continued down her throat, between her breasts and ended in the centre of her belly. Her nightshift clung to her skin, damp and sticky in places and she wanted to tear it off and plunge into ice water to quench the fires that made her weak and restless.
‘Are you sickening for a fever?’ Joanna asked anxiously.
The ache for Robbie’s lips and hands on her body caused Rowenna such dramatic symptoms that fever was a good description. It was not a fever in the sense that everyone in the city dreaded—a sickness caused by the bad air or vapours from the river that left the strongest of men weak and dying, but something far more deadly from which there was no chance of recovery.
She knew now what she had suspected for years and which their kiss had confirmed. She was hopelessly in love with Robbie.
‘Did anyone—did any harm befall you?’ Joanna asked, anxiously peering at Rowenna.
Not intentionally, at least. Robbie could not possibly have suspected what his kiss would do to her or he would never have inflicted such sweet pain on her. When he had ended the kiss she had felt as if her heart was being dragged from her body.
‘I spent most of the evening with Robbie,’ Rowenna said quietly. ‘No one harmed me.’
‘So you didn’t manage to find yourself a knight to marry?’
Rowenna chewed her fingernail. She knew who she wanted to marry. She recognised what desire looked like and had seen it clearly in Robbie’s eyes. Hadn’t she longed to see such an expression for so many years that she had pictured it perfectly? But then after the announcement Robbie had stayed with Mary and had clearly abandoned Rowenna to Geoffrey’s company, despite his insistence he would take her home himself. His preference was clear. Rowenna could only torture herself by imagining what had occurred between Robbie and Mary after Geoffrey had taken her home. Even if Robbie found Rowenna attractive, desire was not the same as love. The short, stolen moment of joy in the gardens would be all Rowenna could claim from Robbie. Thank goodness she had not humiliated herself by admitting the effect his kiss had had on her.
‘Robbie is to be knighted very soon,’ Rowenna told her mother.
‘So we have heard this morning,’ Joanna said. ‘Did you know?’
Rowenna flung herself back on to the pillows. The joy she had felt at hearing Simon de Quixlay’s announcement had been the perfect end to the evening. Now she understood why Robbie had been dwelling on his vows of knighthood and asked her to help him rehearse them. He had already known when the ceremony was to take place, but hadn’t told her.
She flushed with indignation, but sadness mingled with it. Once she and Robbie had been so close that he would never have kept something so important from her. The only thing that made it better was knowing that he had clearly kept the secret from Mary, as well.
And Mary had lost no time in capturing Robbie as soon as he stepped from the dais, gazing up at him like a newborn calf. It was obvious even to the slowest thinker that she would be happy for him to court her now.
‘Drink your milk,’ Joanna urged.
Rowenna drained the cup listlessly, conscious of her mother studying her.
‘I should not have let you go last night if this is how you return home!’ Joanna gave her a maddening smile that Rowenna recognised as the one she wore herself when she intended to vex people and Rowenna wondered what conclusions her mother had drawn. ‘I shall have to have words with Robbie about how he takes care of you.’
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