One True Knight (The Knights of Honor Trilogy)
Page 10
CHAPTER 13
“Why have you not chosen a husband yet?” her father said, his tone imperious. He stared down at Rowena now, his arms folded across his chest. “I have given you ample time.”
Because I haven’t found him yet! Rowena wanted to scream. She ducked her head, and looked down at the hem of her gown. Ever since her escapade into town, she tried to avoid her father, but it was just her luck to have him crossing her path whenever her defenses were low, much like today. Two months had gone by and she was not satisfied with any of the men that her father had sent her way. She of all people knew how much time she had left. “My choice of husband will affect my entire life,” she said, her voice shaking slightly — not in fear but in anger. “I must carefully weigh the choices that you have given me before I make my decision.”
Her father grunted as if he was satisfied that she had transformed into the demure creature that he wanted her to be. “See that you make your decision quickly,” he said. “My patience is starting to wear thin.”
With that, he strode away from her as if he dismissed her from his mind and had more important matters to attend.
Rowena stared at his back, wanting desperately to hurl something at him, to make him understand that this was not a small decision that could be made on impulse. This was her life!
Disgusted with the encounter, she took a step toward the garden and then changed her mind and marched toward the solar. The solar was once her mother’s favorite place and it was the one place that few people ventured.
She didn’t make it very far when she saw the familiar wheat colored hair and swaggering young knight that also seemed to appear at the most inopportune times, just like her father. She groaned out loud before ducking behind a stone column.
She stood behind the column for what seemed like ages, hoping that Derrik had not seen her. She peeked out from her hiding place, and then let out an irritated hiss when she saw him coming straight to where she was concealed.
Rowena stepped out from her behind the column, and stood glaring at him, one hand on her hip. “Do you not have anything better to do than to spy on me?” she demanded crossly.
“Not when you’re hiding and acting with suspicion,” he said. He frowned at her as if he had caught her trying to escape from the castle again. Since that day in the woods, he seemed to be watching her every move, probably collecting information to report back to her father.
“I was not hiding,” she said defensively. She took another step forward. “I was just collecting my thoughts before you came along.”
Derrik cocked one eyebrow at her, showing his doubt. He craned his neck to see if there was someone else hiding behind the column before following her.
“You never did say what happened between you and Sir Jonathan.”
She shook her head with irritation. “Nothing happened,” she denied.
He continued to look at her skeptically but knew her well enough not to question her further. He glanced around as if noticing for the first time that her nursemaid was no where to be seen. “What are you doing lurking about in the courtyard? Where is Ava?” he asked.
She quickened her pace. “I do not know why I should answer to you,” she said, her voice filled with anger. “‘Tis my right to wander wherever or however I please.” She stopped abruptly, and folded her arms in front of her chest. And then she added in a voice that was full of defiance. “However if you must know, Ava is attending a birth in town. I did not wish to accompany her.”
“By the way you’re acting, one would think you’re protecting someone, maybe hiding him behind that structure,” he said, jerking his thumb at the column in which Rowena had emerged.
She threw a derisive glance at him. “And what if I was?” she snapped, her voice sounding more sharp and sarcastic than she intended. “I am supposed to get married. God knows that any of the men that my father has chosen for me will love me for who I am and not for what he will gain once he is married to me.”
Derrik took an involuntary step back as if the force of her words pushed him away. The list of men that her father assembled was a well known fact. For the past two months the suitors came and went. The people, she knew, were whispering behind her back, trying to wager on which man she would choose or which ones she would drive away.
In all actuality, she didn’t want to marry — not unless it was for love. She made it quite clear although no one seemed to be listening to her. And her father had clearly forgotten his promise to her and her mother.
Rowena swallowed back a lump in her throat, trying in desperation to gain her sense of control. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to concentrate on Derrik.
“I was making sure that no harm would befall you,” he said, clearing his throat and looking ill at ease “Your father would never forgive me if I let something happen to you, especially with the number of suitors that have come courting.”
She pursed her lips. “I have no suitors visiting today. But I will have you know that I can take care of myself,” she said. “Have you forgotten all those times that I bested you?”
“That was a long time ago,” he said, flushing. “We are no longer children.” Then without another word, he turned and left her.
Feeling guilty for lashing out at him, she thought about calling him back to apologize for her rude behavior but then she stopped herself. Instead, she turned to the other direction, not wanting Derrik to change his mind and find some other reason to harass her. It wasn’t entirely his fault that she was in such a foul mood. But she had enough of harassment for one day. She just wanted to be left alone.
She walked briskly toward the solar, passing a couple of servants along the way. Not many people were allowed to enter the private solar and it was almost a relief to hear the sound of only her feet echoing in the empty stairwell.
This whole business of finding a husband was making her feel a mixture of emotions: fear, anger, helplessness — all of which she didn’t particularly like.
When she was younger, Ava had always told her, “Courting will be delightful, you’ll see. When your time comes, you will have as many choices as your mother once had.”
“Delightful,” she muttered with derision. Of all the emotions that she was feeling, delight was not one of them.
She didn’t like the suitors that her father sent her way and it was fast becoming known that she was picky. At the rate she was going, the prospect of finding an ideal husband would dry up soon and that didn’t bode well for her future.
She ran her hand along the cool stone as she made her way up the stairs, touching each stone as if allowing the slabs to absorb her dark thoughts.
Except the dark thoughts refused to be absorbed and her feelings of despair only worsened. How was she ever to find her heart’s desire?
Maybe there was no such thing as a perfect husband, as Ava had told her numerous times. There was no room for passionate love in a marriage, and the perfect knight didn’t exist. “You would do well to keep your head out of the clouds, child,” Ava told her. But then again, what did Ava know? She was well past her prime and still unmarried.
Rowena reached the top stairs. She crossed over to the heavy wooden door, and slipped into the private solar. There, she found a small stool that was placed near the window and sat down, suddenly feeling as if the weight of her thoughts were crushing her.
She let out a small sigh. As she looked out of the window, she saw the green open field and the wooded area beyond that. A man stood in the field not far from the castle walls, arm stretched and looking heavenward as if he were trying to communicate to the falcon that circled above him. Its shrill cry pierced through the air, echoing faintly in the small chamber. It dove down and landed gracefully on the leather glove of its trainer.
She felt like that falcon, she thought. From a distance, it looked free and happy, flying through the air on its own accord. But at the trainer’s call, it returned to its master. That freedom, she knew was only an illusion. One moment y
ou were given freedom to choose what you wanted out of life and the next moment it was taken away from you.
Her hands on her lap clenched as if she could feel the invisible chain that kept her in her place.
She knew that her father would choose a husband for her if she didn’t make a decision soon…
“Lady Rowena,” a soft voice said, cutting sharply into her thoughts.
Rowena spun her head around, and found Lorena sitting quietly at the far corner with her embroidery on her lap. She was unable to hide the pained look that crossed her face. The day’s harassment wasn’t over yet. “Forgive me, my lady. I was not aware that you were here.” She got up. “I shall leave you to your privacy.”
“Nay, please do not leave,” Lorena said. “I have been meaning to speak with you.” Then she added, a smile playing on her lips. “Also, I would appreciate the company.”
With some reluctance, Rowena sat back down, wishing that she had chosen to go to the garden instead. She forgot that her father’s new wife sometimes spent her time in the solar.
“As you wish, my lady. I shall be glad to join you,” she said, trying to interject some enthusiasm in her voice, although to her own ears, the attempt failed miserably.
She looked around her stool and found an unfinished piece of embroidery on the ground. It was sprinkled with dust so she tapped it, allowing the small particles to dance in the sunlight that streamed through the narrow window. She cast a sidelong glance at Lorena and saw that her head was bent over her work. She didn’t seem in any hurry to discuss whatever was on her mind.
With a slight grimace, Rowena plucked the needle, and began pushing it through the delicate silk, and soon got into the rhythm of doing the fine needlework. Minutes passed by and then unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she asked, “What is it that you want to speak about, my lady?”
Lorena looked up from her work. “I am to speak to you about your marriage prospects.”
Noticing a dark shadow crossing Rowena’s face, Lorena’s expression turned embarrassed and apologetic. “Your father insists that I speak to you about it,” she confessed slowly as if she was afraid that she might offend Rowena. “I am told that your mother wanted you to choose your own husband.”
“‘Twas her dying wish,” Rowena said.
Lorena’s mouth opened in surprise, momentarily speechless. But then she recovered and said, “You are still fortunate that you have a choice in the matter. ‘Tis definitely more than I ever had.”
“I am fortunate to have a choice,” Rowena shrugged, “but there is no guarantee that I will find love and love is what I desire most. I am beginning to doubt that it can exist in a noble marriage,” she added, unable to hide the bitterness that crept into her voice.
“Love is what every young maiden craves,” Lorena said, nodding sagely as if she knew from experience. “However you are correct. Love is a rare factor in noble marriages. If you trust in God, however ‘tis possible to find love with your mate.”
Rowena frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”
Lorena shrugged. “I was young once and understand how you feel. I am compelled to help you avoid the pain and suffering that I went through in my first two marriages.” She paused and pushed a fine needle into the white silk. Lifting it up, she examined her work. “‘Tis not easy being a woman, I vow,” she added. “You are married not because of who you are as a person but because of the wealth and power that you bring to the union.”
Rowena looked at her with some surprise. Not many people spoke about marriage with such candor. She watched Lorena silently for a long moment. Making up her mind, she confessed, “My time is running out for finding a suitable husband.” She looked down wistfully at the cluster of silken flowers that she had created. “Everyone knows that I have not found the man I wish to marry and Father has become impatient. If I do not find a husband soon, I am afraid that he will marry me off to some toad that I have yet to meet.”
Lorena let out a startled laugh. “Well, we cannot let that happen,” she said. “Perhaps we should convince your father to expand the list of suitors.” A bright smile crossed her face as if an idea just occurred to her. “What of Sir Jared’s nephew? He seems quite taken with you. We can add him to the list.”
Rowena laughed in disbelief. “I have known Derrik all my life. I would never dream of marrying him. He is like a brother to me, although an annoying one at that.”
“Then what sort of man do you wish to marry?” Lorena asked. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat when her question was met with silence. “‘Tis fine if you do not wish to tell me.”
Rowena shook her head. “I was just thinking of my knight,” she confessed. She looked off to the far wall, almost seeing the image of her perfect knight there. “He is tall, handsome and intelligent. Compassion and honor is what he stands for. He has true valor and strength as a warrior, but above all else, he is devoted to me.”
“A truly noble knight,” Lorena said, nodding her head in agreement. “Is he someone I know?”
Rowena gave her a sheepish smile. “Aye, you know him well. He is an Arthurian knight. Sir Lancelot is his name. I once heard the minstrels describe him and to my mind’s eye he is the epitome of what my husband should be.”
“A knight from the Round Table,” Lorena said, tapping a finger on her chin. “He is the stuff of legends and he is unlikely to exist any longer. Indeed did he ever exist?”
“I do not know,” Rowena admitted. “I admire the noble qualities that he possesses. There must be at least one man in this modern age that has similar qualities.”
“What if you do not find this knight?”
“I will find him,” Rowena said with determination.
Lorena looked at her thoughtfully. “Perhaps you need not look too far. ‘Tis my opinion that you are describing my cousin. Jonathan is and can be all of those things that you describe and more besides.”
She placed her embroidery down beside her, all pretenses of working on her embroidery cast aside. “‘Twas I who recommended my cousin as a possible suitor for you,” she said, clasping her hands. “I know he will be a good husband for you.”
“Your cousin?” Rowena repeated, unable to hide the doubt that crossed her face. “Sir Jonathan is a fine knight as far as the stories go, but he does not look anything like my Arthurian knight. Besides, ‘tis obvious that he is not interested in me, as he is the last suitor on the list who has not come courting.”
Lorena waved her hand impatiently as if she were trying to shoo away Rowena’s words. “You are quite mistaken about his interest. I saw him speaking with you after the wedding ceremonies. He is very interested. I’m quite certain of it.”
“And I am quite certain that any impression made was superficial. ‘Tis probable that he has forgotten about me by now.” Rowena shrugged. “I know Sir Jonathan has no shortage of admirers,” she added.
Lorena quirked a delicate eyebrow at her. “Including you, I hope?” she asked.
Rowena fought down the blush that was rising to her cheeks. “He is the Iron Hawk after all,” she said, her tone a little defensive. “His heroic feats are renowned throughout the land.”
“I assure you, he is not affected by all of his admirers, charming as they can be,” Lorena said, placing a hand over her mouth, hiding a smile. “However I still maintain that you have captured his eye.”
Rowena became quiet. Why not consider Jonathan? She couldn’t deny that despite his looks, she was attracted to him. There were many nights that she lay awake thinking about him…
Mistaking her frown, Lorena continued. “However Jonathan shouldn’t be your only choice. We need more knights for you to choose from.” Suddenly she sent Rowena a wide smile. “What we need is a tournament,” she said, her excitement mounting. “We are so isolated here that ‘tis hard to meet anyone new. We can entice Jonathan and all other skilled knights of Christendom to Ravenhearth. You should then have no problem finding your heart’s desire by the end of the m
onth.”
“Do you think we can have a tournament set up with such little notice?” Rowena asked, her voice full of doubt. She hadn’t been to many tournaments but even she knew that tournaments had to be announced and organized months in advance.
Lorena got up from her bench. “It should not be a problem,” she said. “We are between tournaments now. And I imagine the knights are restless. With your father’s influence, we should be able to bypass the normal procedure for setting up tournaments and send out the heralds quickly enough to announce the games in a fortnight. I am quite certain that the unmarried knights and noblemen will not object when we tell them that this tournament is held in your honor. What man would pass up on the opportunity to showcase his fighting skills and have the chance to win the hand of the very lovely Lady Rowena in the process?”
CHAPTER 14
Jonathan paused at the entrance to Richard’s chamber, wrinkling his nose slightly as the smell hit him with a force that almost made him gag. The servants scattered rushes laced with fresh herbs throughout the room, however no sweet smelling herb could mask the smell of sickness that hung in the air like a thick ominous cloud.
It reminded him too much of another bedchamber where Amelia was murdered. His room, he remembered, was adjacent to Amelia’s so when she had screamed, he was the fist to respond. With his heart in his throat, he crashed into her chamber only to see a knight clad in full grey armor bent over her with murderous intent. The knight turned on him then, slashing his face before escaping. Jonathan rubbed the scar on his face, a constant reminder of that fateful day. He should have gone after the killer except Amelia was mortally wounded. And although he knew he couldn’t do anything for her, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her while she was reaching out for him, gasping for her last breath. And because of that unfortunate decision he made, the cowardly knight had eluded him ever since.
He took a deep breath, and forced the memory from his mind. It had been years since he had been in this particular room though.