Seeming unaware of Christian at the moment, Rowena looked toward Sean. “You will see her safely to her home? Make certain the child’s father is willing to care for them before you leave her?”
Sean bowed, his eyes lighting up when she smiled at him with gratitude. “Anything you ask of me, Rowena.”
The response seemed overeager, to Christian’s ears. Rowena always referred to the young man as a friend, but that did not mean he felt the same. Christian told himself that the tightening in his belly was due to the fact that a budding romance would only complicate his task. Now it was he who watched Sean carefully as the young man went about helping Rowena to prepare her charges for their journey.
The two friends spoke easily, as those of long acquaintance were wont to do. Their interaction gave nothing more away.
There was a lull as Sean awaited his next instructions from Rowena, who was dressing the child in tiny woolen garments. With a tense expression, he approached Christian, who was studying them from the bench against the wall, having taken the position when his own offer of aid was declined.
With determination, the dark-haired young man asked, “When were ye thinking to leave Ashcroft?”
Christian shrugged and replied to this unexpected question as casually as he could, considering the regret he felt at the idea. “Soon enough.” He knew that he must indeed go ere much more time passed, if he was not able to gain any ground here.
Sean frowned. “Mither says ye are looking for someone. A woman named Rosalind.”
Christian said, “I am.”
“Ye have been told that she isna hereabouts.”
He resisted casting a glance at Rowena. “Aye, I have been told. I cannot remain much longer. I have been away too long as it is, for I did tell my sister, Aislynn, that I would be home weeks ago. She and my father are…” He halted, not wanting to speak of his relationship with his family, nor wishing to reveal the guilt that rose at every thought of them.
In the silence that followed, Christian looked up and saw that Rowena had paused in the act of setting the swaddled babe into his mother’s waiting arms. Their eyes met.
She watched him with an intensity that both shocked and inexplicably drew him as she said, “You are leaving soon?”
“Aye.” The word hung in the air between them. Was she, somehow, in some part of herself that she was not yet willing to acknowledge, beginning to understand that his presence here was of great import to her?
Time seemed to lengthen and stretch in an immeasurable way, until finally she turned away. He could read nothing in her tone as she said, “’Tis best to wait a bit longer after your recent illness. Just to make certain that you are fully recovered.”
Christian was left with no opportunity to consider her words. For when she moved toward the table and began to place small pouches into a larger one with studied concentration, Sean let out a barely audible groan. Christian turned to him, seeing his yearning eyes fixed on Rowena.
As if sensing Christian’s attention, Sean turned to him with resentment. “Why did ye look at her that way?” Angry color rode his cheeks.
He was indeed in love with Rowena.
Christian did not know what to say, for the other man obviously saw him as a rival. This was as far from the actual situation as possible.
Yet Christian had no intention of revealing his true interest in Rowena.
Sean spoke again before Christian could even think of forming a reply. “I will pray that yer family is not long awaiting yer return, English knight. Their peace will be mine.”
Christian felt a momentary flash of guilt that when he left he might be taking away what Sean held most dear. He quickly brushed it aside. He felt sympathy for the young man, but could not allow that to make him hesitate in taking Rowena with him if she would come. If she was Rosalind, her place was at Dragonwick.
“Sean?” It was Rowena’s voice.
He swung about without another word, and moved to her side.
“If you will take this to the cart?” She held up a woolen bag. “It contains clean clothes for the babe.”
Stiffly he took the bag and went out without so much as glancing toward Christian again.
Christian then watched as Rowena turned and helped Nina to stand. The babe lay upon the bed as she gingerly wriggled to the edge. Rowena reached out to place a steadying hand beneath her arm as she took a deep breath and rose to her feet. Her weakness was clear, for she buckled almost instantly.
Without asking permission, Christian rose and went to lean over her. “You should not travel this day.”
He could feel the tension in Rowena’s slender body as she agreed. “He is right. You are not strong enough.”
Nina’s lips thinned obstinately. “I mun go home.”
He gave a grunt of exasperation, bending down to sweep her into his arms. Neither she nor Rowena made any protest as he carried her to the cart.
As he set her on the narrow wooden seat beside a frowning Sean, Rowena appeared with the babe in a basket. Carefully she placed the sleeping child on the floor before them. “He will sleep for a time.” Her gaze caught Nina’s. “You must not forget to take the medicaments I put in the bag for you. They will help you to regain your strength more quickly.”
The girl blinked back tears. “I willna forget.” Her appreciative gaze included Christian, who had stepped back to allow them to talk. “I thank ye both. I…ye saved our lives and I kin niver…” She halted, wiping a tear on the sleeve of the clean gown Rowena had given her.
Christian nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his own throat as Rowena whispered, “Just look after the babe. And remember, if you ever need anything…”
The girl nodded and looked to Sean. “We mun away or we shall miss the tide.”
Rowena stepped back beside Christian as Sean cast one more disapproving glance at them. Rowena seemed intent on wiping moisture from the corner of her own eyes.
Sean spoke roughly. “I’ll call on ye when I return.”
She shook her head. “There is no need to further disrupt your day. You must go about your own business.”
As the cart pulled away, Christian realized that as obvious as it was that Sean loved her, it was equally obvious that Rowena was not in love with Sean. For there was never a hint of more than sisterly affection in her voice or expression in her interactions with the young man.
Christian told himself that his relief was due to the fact that things would be less complicated when she learned who she was. Sean would never be a suitable mate to the lady of Dragonwick. She would require a strong man, one who was capable of holding what was hers.
Surely he and Jarrod and Simon could help her to make that choice. Perhaps even Jarrod…He was not wed, had no ties to his father’s lands and would fulfill all the duties of the man who must first wrest hold of Dragonwick, then hold it and restore it.
Aye, Rowena must indeed wed eventually, and the future lord of Dragonwick would be chosen carefully. That need not be for some time, at least. Christian would not be the one, in spite of Sean’s fears that he had some romantic interest in her, for he had other responsibilities that must take precedence even had he been inclined to take an interest in The Dragon’s daughter.
His father, whom he had remembered as a bitter and morose man, had aged, grown old and lonely without his son to aid him in holding his lands along the Welsh border. His joy in having Christian home was almost too much to bear, for it told just how greatly he had been missed. Because of that, Christian was determined to do what must be done in The Dragon’s memory, then take his rightful place at Bransbury.
Lovely and fascinating as Rowena might be, his only intention toward her was to prove, or disprove, that she was Rosalind of Dragonwick.
Although Christian chafed at realizing it would be much more difficult to prove who she was if she herself did not know, he forced himself to remain hopeful. He might discover some other evidence that would point to the truth. In the event that he was able
to find it, he would require the young woman’s cooperation in restoring her to her rightful place.
That Rowena was as prickly a bit of womanhood as he had ever met did not bode well for his rushing the matter.
That she was wise and courageous beyond her years was also true. He had realized after she saved Nina’s life that if she were The Dragon’s daughter, he would have been proud of her.
If Christian had also felt an odd but compelling stirring as he had held her in his arms last eve, it was surely due to his own desperate hope that she was The Dragon’s daughter. To see her restored to her rightful position would be to do her father the greatest good that could be done after all these years.
Rowena watched Sean, Nina and the babe leave with a sense of unease. She was feeling strangely vulnerable, and uncertain as to the reason.
She felt foolish now for her behavior the previous night. Clearly she must have misunderstood when she imagined that the knight had refused to accept her own lack of legitimacy. What he could have been thinking she was not sure and did not wish to examine at the moment. What she did know was that Sir Christian Greatham was utterly unlike what her mother had led her to believe a nobleman would be.
She felt a growing sense of wonder and surprise at Christian Greatham’s gentleness and care for others. She had seen it first with Hagar, then with Nina and her babe.
That his anxiety for Nina matched her own had created a sort of bond between them that left her uncomfortable in an unexplainable way. His continued interest in the babe, the bastard son of a married man, touched her as nothing ever had. He had cared nothing for the child’s lack of legitimacy. So why would he have difficulty with her own?
She found herself speaking without knowing that she was going to do so. “You are not as I imagined.”
He gave a start. “You imagined me?”
Now she felt herself flush, answering too quickly, “Nay, not you in particular, but nobles in general…. I simply thought that you would behave as if you were above us—not only me, but someone like Nina and her child.”
“I see.” There was no emotion in his deep voice.
“Do you see?” She watched him closely. “Are most of your kind of a different nature than you?”
He shrugged, frowning as if her question was a surprise to him. “I would say not. Some are worse, many are better.”
She felt a deep sense of doubt at the latter statement. Something told her that only an uncommonly decent man would answer thus.
It was this that made her say, “My mother told me that my father and his kind care for nothing more than their land and titles. She said that even those they love must come second. That is…” Rowena straightened her shoulders. “That is why he refused to marry her. She could bring him nothing of value.”
Christian’s frown deepened as she spoke. His eyes searched hers as he said, “And you believed her?”
“Why would I not? My father had rejected her—us.” The admission was a painful one to make to this man.
He took a step toward her. “That is not the…” When she backed away from him, he visibly collected himself, taking a deep, steadying breath before he said, “Surely you have questioned this? Perhaps your mother took you away for some other reason.”
“Why would I question her?” She felt an overwhelming sense of misery as well as protectiveness. “My mother was angry and bitter, but she loved me. She would not have hurt me for anything.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “But—”
Rowena interrupted before he could go on. “I mean you no insult. I was only moved to speak out because you have been so kind and decent toward everyone during your time here.” She turned away, brushing an unwelcome tear from the corner of her eye, not wanting him to see how upset she was.
He grabbed her wrist in a tight hold. “Rowena, if you would but listen—”
“Nay!” She shook her head without looking at him, jerking her hand away. “I will not listen.” His implication that her mother could have lied to her was too disturbing to contemplate. For if it were true, it would mean that it was her mother and not her father who had wronged her. “You would ask me to question the woman who dried my tears when I fell down or woke from a nightmare.” Rowena shook her head at this, for there had been many nightmares when she was small, ones from which she had woken terrified and confused at the visions of blood, the sounds of screams and the feeling of an enormous snake looming over her. She was frightened of snakes to this very day. Again she shook her head. “You would have me doubt her when she put me before herself in all she did.”
Rowena could not think it. As she had told him, her mother had been angry and bitter toward her father, but she had loved Rowena. She would never have lied about such a thing. She could have no reason to do so.
Rowena spoke coolly. “You may mean well in your defense of my father, but you know nothing of us.”
When she flicked a glance at him she saw that he seemed lost in thought, and was surprised when he said, “Forgive me for overstepping myself.”
She took a deep, calming breath. “It is done.” Rowena looked toward the woodland path that led away from the cottage. “I am needed elsewhere this day. I welcome you to the bread and cheese in the cottage when you grow hungry.”
She was grateful when he followed her cue and said no more on the matter, answering without inflection, “I thank you for your hospitality.”
She looked at him then and found those blue eyes studying her closely, as they did so often.
Unwilling to try to fathom that expression, Rowena turned away. She went directly into the cottage, gathered the things she would need into a woolen bag and took up her cloak. When she made to leave she stopped short with a frown. Christian had come to the doorway to watch her, his wide shoulders effectively blocking the way.
Pausing in the act of moving toward him, Rowena said, “I will see you ere night falls.”
He shrugged, seemingly oblivious to her now. “As you will.”
She waited.
He looked up at her then, clearly realizing that he was blocking her path. Nodding with apology, he turned sideways in order to allow her to pass. Although she felt strangely reluctant to come so close to him, Rowena could not bring herself to say so. She was feeling raw and exposed, too aware of her own mixed feelings about this enigmatic stranger.
It was as she was turning sideways to slip past him that their eyes met. Self-consciously, Rowena brushed her hair back from her suddenly heated cheeks.
Without warning he caught her wrist, and she winced. Christian raised it up and examined the bruise beginning to show there even as she noted its existence.
His voice was filled with regret as he said softly, “I did this last eve when I grabbed you, did I not?”
She nodded hesitantly. “I…yes, you must have.”
He grimaced. “I am very sorry, Rowena. It was never my intention to cause you pain, of any kind.”
She could no more look away from that earnest and compelling blue gaze than she could fly. His hand seemed to burn her where it rested on the delicate skin of her wrist. But when he broke eye contact to place his warm mouth against the spot, she gave a start at the streak of heat that flashed through her body.
She jerked her hand free. “I…” She had no words to give him. She was far too confused by the fact that that flash of awareness had settled like a burning flame in her belly.
She turned and fled, infinitely aware that Christian was watching her and continued to do so until she disappeared into the cover of the trees.
Only then was she able to breathe more normally. It was as if being out of his presence had released her from the grip of some force. Yet now that it had passed she could not credit its effect.
She was being extremely foolish. Christian Greatham had no hold on her whatsoever.
As she had none on him. He had said this very day that he would be leaving soon. It was only surprise that he would behave thus that had made her
react so.
Why would he kiss her wrist? She could only imagine that the nobles must have different customs than the common folk.
Yet as she traversed a little-used path carpeted with a layer of decaying leaves, she did not feel the familiar sense of peace that walking through the quiet forest usually brought her. She felt no joy in the occasional cry of a thrush or hawk fluttering amongst the canopy of oak and hemlock and pine.
She thought ahead to her visit with the elderly Agnes. The widow required regular doses of medicaments to aid the breathing problems that plagued her each year as winter approached, but could not manage the walk to Rowena’s cottage. Rowena was quite aware that she was not expected. Her regular attendance was not due for two more days, but she was sure that she would be welcome.
And she knew she could not spend this day alone in Christian Greatham’s company.
Chapter Five
The very next morning Christian watched Rowena warily from the doorway of the cottage. They had not spoken since she had run from him the previous afternoon.
Whatever had enticed him to kiss her wrist he did not know. He had thought at the time that it was simply regret at the upheaval he had wrought in her life, his regret that more was to follow.
His instantaneous and sensual reaction to that simple act had left him filled with self-doubt. In spite of the fact that he told himself any man would respond thus in the face of Rowena’s beauty, his disquiet would not be laid to rest.
She had not returned until after he had sought his own rest in the shed. He had lain awake long after, his mind reeling not only with his own madness but also with all she had revealed in their conversation of the morning.
Now he understood her failure to realize that he might be speaking of her when he talked of Rosalind. Although it was doubtless done out of love, the woman she believed to be her mother had instilled in her a decided prejudice against the nobility. It would make persuading her that she could be Rosalind all the more difficult.
He looked at the slender line of her back as she busied herself with preparing the morning meal.
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