“What the hell?” he muttered to himself.
He clenched his teeth. Perhaps the moment they shared in his bedchamber was nothing special to her. He thought he saw the warm glow reflected in her eyes, and believed that they had a glorious connection, but those apparently were just a figment of his imagination.
But how could this be? To him, they had something spectacular, and he even convinced himself that it was love. Stupidly, he believed that she felt the same euphoric sensations. Love. He spat onto the ground as if the action would somehow take away the bitterness in his mouth. In his youth, he had been disillusioned, and gave up on the idea of romantic love. Then in his adulthood, he kept a certain polite distance toward women, even though he had no qualms about sleeping with some of them. He was supposed to be impervious to women. He trained himself to be that way. Still, all that changed when he met Amelie. She had broken through his barrier and made him love.
But he already knew, and indeed was even warned, that this soft emotion could fell even the greatest of knights. Now that he had tumbled head over heels in love with a woman who didn’t return his affections. And for this, he had no one to blame except for himself. He had given her his heart, even if in the end she decimated it. From all appearances, he was just another man to her, and that single realization made him want to clench his fists, raise them to the air, and roar out the pain and anguish that constricted his soul.
How could he have been so delusional, so stupid? How and when did he allow himself to fall for her charms?
And even now, as he watched her glossy hair shining in the sun, while she was speaking intimately with another man, Derrik still desired her.
A dark cloud settled over him, blackening his mood even more. And the heavy feelings of self-doubt and jealousy, feelings that he had thought that were long-buried, came rushing forward, leaving him unbalanced and angry.
As his eyes zeroed in on the other man, studying his rival, he could feel a slight tightening in his inner eyelids. The stare only caused the tension, upset, and dislike to mount, to grow inside his chest; it whirled, squeezed inside him until he could hardly breathe. Who was this man?
Then as if his adversary sensed his intense regard, he turned his head and looked over at Derrik. Their gazes met. A negative energy whizzed between them, fast and furious, becoming more frigid and hostile with each passing second. But then Amelie tugged at her suitor’s sleeve, causing him to jerk his attention back to her. And the silent combat between Derrik and his rival abruptly ceased.
The old, hot temper covered Derrik like a worn blanket, and he felt the furious pressure building within his body. He willed all his strength not to march up to the other man and punch him in the gut. The other man needed to experience the power and strength of that blow — all because he dared to speak and touch his woman.
Taking a sharp breath, he forced himself to rein in his violent thoughts. Amelie wasn’t his woman yet, he reminded himself. In fact, she would deny that she was ever his woman to begin with. In addition, he had come too far in his career to regress, and allow his temper to rule his life like it had in his youth. He was no longer a green knight. He was a seasoned warrior that was strong and powerful, and who had full control his emotions…
Amelie’s shiny head shook as the man said something to her. She then glanced over at Derrik and beckoned for him to come over. But he shook his head.
Taking another deep inhalation, he spun around. Walk away, he told himself. Place one foot in front of the other and walk. He shouldn’t care about this strange man. He shouldn’t care about Amelie. If he didn’t leave the courtyard now, his fury might return with a vengeance, and he wouldn’t be able to prevent any rash behavior on his part.
But even as his feet moved, he knew it was impossible to forget what he had seen. And even if he could put a distance between him and the engaged couple, there was no escaping Amelie, for her image was firmly entrenched in his brain. And that, of all things, disturbed him greatly.
“Sir Derrik!” an unmistakable, sweet voice called. He heard the sound of hurried steps behind him.
He quickened his pace. Speaking to Amelie now would only release the floodgate of anger that was barely contained.
“Sir Derrik, wait!” Amelie called again, intent on catching up with him.
Derrik gritted his teeth, pretending not to hear. But he was conscious that the people in the courtyard were starting to look at them oddly. Forcing himself to relax, he slowed his steps.
“Did you not hear me?” she panted when she finally caught up to him. Placing a hand on his arm, she caught her breath. “I had to run half way across the courtyard just to catch up to you. I wanted you to meet —”
The honeyed sound of her voice crashed through his thin wall of control. He jerked his arm from her grip. Flicking a glance at her, and before he could stop himself, he said, “You can blame me if you like. But I had no idea that with just an hour in my arms, you would start whoring so quickly.”
“What?” Her hand covered her mouth, and she took in a quick, sharp breath as if he had slapped her. “What is wrong with you, Derrik?”
“Who was that man that you just embraced?” he asked, staring past her shoulder.
“I do not care for your tone of voice, sire,” she said, her voice turning low and icy. Placing her hands on her hips, she stood facing him, her body rigid and her eyes flashing with a blistering fury and with something else too. “Who I embrace is none of your concern.”
She looked as if she wanted to say something more, but she stopped. Instead, she made a sound of disgust, did an about turn and left him standing there.
He cursed under his breath and watched her retreating back. The hurt he saw in her eyes affected him, and he felt a fleeting sense of remorse. But that feeling vaporized as soon as he saw her return to the dark-haired man.
Derrik made his own sound of disgust. This complication with Amelie was not what he needed right now.
“Sire,” another voice said, interrupting his gloomy thoughts.
“I didn’t know you were there,” Derrik said, looking over his shoulder and seeing Egbert approaching him from the right.
“I called your name several times,” Egbert said, regarding him with a bemused look on his face.
“Who is that man?” Derrik asked, jerking his chin at the stranger. He watched as the man placed an arm around Amelie, leading her away.
Egbert came to stand beside him and followed the direction of his gaze. “I’m not entirely certain. He hasn’t introduced himself to me. But judging from what I see, I can only assume that he’s Lady Amelie’s suitor.”
“That’s what I thought,” Derrik said, shrugging in an effort to display indifference, even though that was the last thing he felt. Tilting his head up to the sky, he let out a deep sigh.
“Are you all right, sire?”
“I’m fine.” Derrik clenched his jaw. It was time to forget about her. He looked over at his friend. “Do you have news to report?”
Egbert shook his head, wisely dropping the discussion. “I would like to go over the details of your plan, if you don’t mind.”
“Aye, let’s go,” he said. “We still have much to do.”
Chapter 31
Amelie’s steps echoed down the spiral stairway. It was almost supper and she knew that Roldan would be making his way toward the great hall. She was a little annoyed at herself for not confronting her uncle when she had a chance, but the incident in her mother’s chamber had left her in a state of shock. Then when she finally recovered from that shock, and was ready to seek Roldan out, she was distracted by both Geoffrey and then Derrik.
More than anything it was the quarrel she had with Derrik that disturbed her. His hurtful words echoed over and over in her mind. She decided then that fulfilling her duties as chatelaine would occupy her mind and help calm her distress. And so with renewed determination, she went to intercept Roldan and determine why he was in Stanbury Castle, and what his intentions w
ere with Lady Edeline. He hadn’t visited the stronghold in over two years, and as far as Amelie knew, there was no reason for him to be here.
She was civil toward him in the past, but that was before he had falsely implicated her father of treason. It didn’t matter that Roldan was one of the most powerful men of the kingdom, a duke or her uncle. All she knew was that he was a liar, and she resented the fact that he was even in her home. Other than asking him to leave the premises, she didn’t know what to do about the offensive and truly nauseating show of affection that he displayed over Lady Edeline. If her father knew of Roldan’s high handedness, he would be furious.
At least she was assured that her mother’s affections never strayed from her father, for Clarisse rarely left her side. But it was a different matter with Roldan; she knew she had to keep a close watch over him. Never in all her life had Amelie seen such an array of emotions run across his face. And never had she seen Margery so distraught over a man.
When she first heard about the pairing between Margery and Roldan, she scoffed at the idea. From all the years that she had known both of them, not once had they ever exhibited an interest in each other. In fact, Amelie assumed that her nursemaid was not interested in marriage, and was satisfied with her role in the castle. She was, after all, living a comfortable lifestyle, far removed from village life. In a more charitable mood, Amelie might have pitied Margery over her unrequited love for Roldan, but at this moment, pity wasn’t what she wanted to feel, especially since the nursemaid had tried to harm her mother. But tomorrow, the nursemaid would be removed from the castle. Amelie felt better after making that decision, although there was still her uncle to contend with.
Seeing Roldan up ahead, she was unable to stop herself from gritting her teeth. He made his way to the dais, and walked as if he owned Stanbury Castle.
She blew out a breath of air, trying to break away from her turbulent frame of mind. Approaching him with hostility would not yield the results that she wanted.
“Uncle, wait,” she called out before he reached the high table. Putting aside her feelings, she forced her voice to sound congenial. Clarisse always told her that being agreeable influenced people far better than being unpleasant. “I would like to speak to you.”
Roldan turned at the sound of her voice. He tapped his walking stick impatiently on the ground, waiting for her to catch up to him.
She hesitated slightly when she saw the familiar granite expression on his face. It was an expression that caused most people to scuttle in the opposite direction. There was no trace of the man who stood by her mother’s bedside hours earlier. Amelie fought back a sudden sense of wariness. The last time she felt like this was when she was a child. She had to admit that back then she was a willful child used to getting her own way. On the occasions that Roldan visited Stanbury Castle, he demonstrated an intense dislike of her, a feeling that was mutual. If she hadn’t been under her father’s protection, she hated to think what he would have done to her. But she wasn’t a child any longer, she reminded herself. She acted as mistress of the castle, and people obeyed her commands. Emboldened by these facts, she moved forward.
But then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the shining golden hair that was all so unmistakable, and she almost stumbled. She turned her head to the side, and was alarmed to find Derrik heading in the same direction — straight toward her uncle.
Even though she didn’t want to, she couldn’t prevent her heart from quickening at the sight of his comely face. And her traitorous body flushed with the memory of being in his warm and passionate embrace not too long ago…
But then it was like a bucket of icy water poured over her head when another memory — one that was more callous and hateful — came to mind. It was then that her annoyance at him resurfaced. Derrik was the last person she wanted to see at the moment.
Roldan seemed to sense her sudden displeasure, and he paused in his tapping. Looking curiously at her, he turned his head to see what she glared at. His lips thinned into what resembled a smile. At the same time, his narrowed gaze gleamed with speculation and interest.
“Sir Derrik,” he said as the knight came within earshot. “You are just the man I wanted to see.”
“You Grace,” Derrik said, bowing slightly.
Amelie’s irritation deepened. She knew he deliberately ignored her, and even with this realization, she couldn’t prevent the sting of rejection.
“’Tis good to see you again, Sir Derrik,” she said, trying to keep her tone polite and calm.
He turned to her then, inclining his head. “’Tis been a long time, hasn’t it, my lady?” he said, his tone slightly sarcastic.
“I do not like —” she started to say.
“Run along now, my dear,” Roldan interrupted. “We can speak at another time about whatever ‘tis on your mind. Right now, I have important matters to discuss with Sir Derrik.”
She felt her spine stiffening and she turned to give him a stony look. “What you have to say before Sir Derrik, you can say to me.” She paused. “And do not think of moving to a different spot, for I will follow you.”
Roldan threw her an impatient look when he realized that she was serious. He struck his walking stick on the floor and turned his back on her.
“I received your missive,” he said, nodding to Derrik. “Now I want to hear a full account.”
Amelie’s jaw dropped open. “Missive?” Her gaze swung to Derrik in surprise. “When did you find the time…?”
Derrik slanted his eyes over to her, and for a second Amelie thought she saw a flicker of guilt crossing over his features. But then it was gone.
Suddenly the full realization dawned upon her. “You sent the missive that morning…” Bringing both hands to her face, she slid them down her bloodless cheeks. She looked into his eyes and found the truth in their depths. Her heart sunk to a new low. “You sent it while I slept…and after I poured my heart out to you…” she whispered, her voice cracking. “How could you do this to me?”
First Margery and now Derrik. While Margery’s duplicity was one thing, Derrik’s betrayal hurt a hundred times more. It felt as if he tore her heart from her chest, and while dangling in front of her, he ripped it into shreds.
Amelie blinked rapidly, aware that Roldan had turned back, and was again watching her curiously. He had a knack for discovering a person’s weakness and using it to his advantage. Yet even knowing this, she was unable to mask her vulnerabilities.
Walking unsteadily to Derrik, she grabbed his arm and pulled him off to the side, away from her uncle. If he led Roldan to Sir Gareth’s farmhouse, then it was a sure death sentence for her father. Taking in a shaky breath, she looked imploringly at him. Never had she stooped so low as to beg, but she was doing it now. There was no other choice.
“Please, Sir Derrik,” she said in a desperate voice. She pressed her palms together. “You know my father is innocent. You heard his recount…”
She stopped, unable to continue as her lips began to tremble, her breath coming out in short gasps. And the hot tears were just beneath the surface, waiting to fall. She shouldn’t cry, she chided herself. She couldn’t cry. Not in front of Roldan, not in front of Derrik.
“You know that my uncle has sabotaged my father’s good name, and has no qualms about killing his own blood,” she continued. She took in a deep shuddering breath and then released it in a rush. Glancing over at Roldan, she saw him jut out his jaw. His face was pinched in concentration, not hiding the fact that he tried to overhear what she said. She lowered her voice. “We cannot let my uncle have the upper hand here.”
Roldan marched over to them, his walking stick grinding into the hard floor. “I do not appreciate you speaking about me in secret,” he snarled. “If you want to speak about me, I will hear it.”
“You set my father — your own brother — to take a fall,” she said, her voice rising. She glared at him, feeling the tears beginning to sting her eyes. “You are the biggest traitor
of all.”
Her uncle’s hand on his cane tightened, the only indication that her words had struck a cord.
“Amelie, don’t —” Derrik touched her shoulder.
She shook his hand off and dashed her eyes with her fingers before shooting a furious look upon him. “Do not dare touch me,” she hissed. “You are as much a traitor as he!”
“So, you know what happened,” Roldan interjected in his hateful voice. One corner of his lips twitched at seeing her anger.
Amelie looked at him with blurry eyes. “The truth is that you are a fraud, Uncle,” she spat, but the words that came out sounded choked and pathetic.
“Be careful with what you say, my dear.” Roldan’s mouth tightened and his pupils constricted. “Your fate hangs at a precarious balance.”
“I do not care about my fate,” she cried. Then she gasped as a thought occurred to her. Derrik was upset with her. In her mind’s eye, she recalled the earlier quarrel she had with him. Turning to him, she said, “This is about Geoffrey, is it not?”
He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but then he gave a slight shake of his head. “Leave it be, my lady.”
“Because if ‘tis Geoffrey —” she continued as if she didn’t hear him.
“I said leave it.” His mouth tightened. He pushed his hand through his hair, and looked past her, refusing to meet her eyes.
Even though she didn’t want it to affect her, the small gesture had the same effect as though he had thrust a dagger into her gut. What did she do to deserve such hatred from him? He had demanded to know why she embraced Geoffrey. And without even hearing her out, he called her a whore, and looked at her as if she had committed the worst of crimes. But the only crime that she committed was to give him her heart.
He had been so gentle, so tender when they made love. And those pretty words he whispered into her ear made her heart beat faster, made her feel as if she could float among clouds. But they were lies. All lies. How could she have trusted him? How could she have fallen for him? And how could she forget about all those wondrous sensations that occurred between them?
A Knight's Duty (The Knights of Honor Trilogy, Book 2) Page 21
