Rogues to Lovers: Legend of the Blue Rose

by Laurel O'Donnell

  A Knight Amid Thorns

  Laurel O'Donnell

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, Graden entered the Great Hall to find Miles breaking his fast with Ella. There was not a more opportune time to search for the blue rose, but Miles noticed him before he could leave and beckoned him over with a wave of his hand. Graden hesitated as Ella lifted her gaze. She pinned him with such a scorching blaze that Graden almost stumbled.

  Miles followed Graden’s stare to Ella and then gently nudged her. She tore her gaze from Graden and glared at Miles.

  Ignoring her, Miles waved Graden over again.

  Hesitantly, Graden moved toward them. He knew it was a bad idea, but he needed to speak to Ella about the blue rose anyway.

  At seeing his approach, Ella stood swiftly.

  Miles grabbed her arm and pulled her back into her seat. He mumbled something to her as Graden stopped before them. He stood awkwardly at the edge of the table.

  “Have you eaten?” Miles wondered.

  “Not as of yet,” Graden answered, casting Ella a quick glance.

  “Join us!” Miles commanded.

  Graden looked at Ella again and could have sworn she dry-heaved. Then he swiveled his gaze back to Miles. “Maybe I can grab something on the way out.”

  “Nonsense!” Miles exclaimed. He signaled one of the passing servants who nodded to him. “You need a full stomach to hunt. Isn’t that right, Ella? No one can hunt with an empty stomach.”

  Ella didn’t reply.

  Graden cautiously took the seat across the table from Miles. As Miles began to eat, a servant brought a trencher of porridge and placed it before Graden.

  A needle dropping would have made Graden jump. He was certain Ella was planning his demise. The silence stretched uncomfortably as they ate. He cast a glance across the table at Ella. Her eyes were downcast, looking at the food that she shoveled into her mouth.

  Graden thought she would choke, she was eating so quickly. He tore a piece off the trencher and put it in his mouth.

  “We’re going hunting later this morn,” Miles stated.

  It didn’t stop Ella from eating in silence.

  Miles cleared his throat, but Ella ignored him.

  Graden reached out and took a rose from the vase on the table. “These roses are magnificent.”

  Miles frowned slightly. “I suppose. Ella’s favorite flower.” He looked over to his sister. “Do you still have the gardens filled with them?”

  Ella nodded, continuing to put bread into her mouth so it was full.

  “Mother put all sorts of stories about roses into Ella’s head. Isn’t that right, El?”

  Ella stopped chewing and glared at Miles.

  Graden studied the flower. “In my travels, I’ve seen different color roses. White –”

  Ella snapped her stare to him, chewing and swallowing heavily. “The Zoroastrian text says that a rose only acquires thorns when evil appears in the world.”

  Shocked, Graden lifted his stare to her. “And have your roses acquired thorns?”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. “They have. For five years.” She stood demurely, glancing at Miles with a satisfied lift of her brow before departing.

  Miles sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Graden.”

  Graden shook his head, watching Ella move out of the Great Hall and into the kitchens. “Don’t be. I can’t blame her.”

  “I do.”

  “Don’t. I don’t want to come between your sister and you.”

  Miles shook his head as his fist tightened around his mug of wine. “She’s just being stubborn.”

  “She feels betrayed by our friendship, I’m sure. She wasn’t with us at Agincourt. Remember how you felt when you first saw me in the king’s army.”

  Miles consented with a humored nod. “How can I forget? I wanted to pound you into the ground.”

  Graden nodded and placed a piece of bread into his mouth. He twirled the rose between his fingers.

  “But that passed,” Miles admitted.

  “After I saved your life. I haven’t had to do that for your sister yet.” Graden replaced the rose in the vase. “I’ll talk to her.”

  Miles snorted in surprise. “You’re likely to end up with a spade in your eye.”

  “It would be better than the pile of shit you left in my mattress.”

  Miles snorted in laughter and his food sprayed from his nose across the table. “But quite a bit more painful!”

  Graden rose and patted Miles on the shoulder before pausing. “Where did she learn of the Zoroastrian text?”

  Miles shrugged. “She reads a lot.”

  Surprised, Graden gained new appreciation for Ella. Reading was something he had not expected her to do. He looked forward to speaking with her. If she didn’t stab him with a spade.

  Ella bent over, pulling the weeds that threatened to choke her beloved rose bushes. She enjoyed taking care of the plants because she loved the way they bloomed and came to life. Sometimes, though, ripping the stubborn weeds from the ground helped to alleviate some of the aggravation she felt. Like now. She used a small shovel to help dig out the weeds, careful to avoid the roots of the rose bush.

  Dumount had managed to make breakfast tense and uncomfortable. She had hoped that by dining late she would have missed him. That had not happened. She yanked another root from the ground and placed it into the pile beside her. She wished it was his throat.

  She spotted a weed near the back of the rose bush by the castle wall and reached for it. Her hand scraped against the rose bush and a thorn scratched her skin. She pulled her hand back and saw the ragged red line on her skin. The sting started immediately.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She whirled, surprised at the sound of his deep voice. When she saw him standing beside her, she clenched her teeth. Must he follow her even here, to her sanctuary? Her lips thinned, and she turned back to the rose bush. She bent forward, determined to reach that weed.

  “You should use gloves. It would help protect against the thorns.”

  Ella wanted to bang her head against a stone wall. “I’m not afraid of the thorns.” She reached farther, bending forward, stretching, almost reaching the weed with the very tips of her fingers.

  “I’ve seen the smallest of wounds kill the strongest of men.”

  She sat back, empty handed, furious. “And I’ve seen the dullest of blows kill my brother.”

  That got him to close his mouth.

  Ella turned to him, looking at him over her shoulder. She regarded him with a cool demeanor. His dark hair fell to his broad shoulders. Her gaze moved up over his square, strong jaw, past a slash for his lips, and beyond a strong straight nose to his eyes. Deep blue eyes stared back at her steadily. He was not the young man she had heard tell of all those years ago. They had told her he was a brash, foolish man with nothing to lose. But somehow, even then, he had won the sympathy of the sheriff. Why? How did he manage to imbue trust in him to all he met? If she truly cared to find that answer, she could figure it out. But she didn’t. “Why did you come here?”

  “Miles is a friend. He asked me to stop here on the way home.”

  “I meant here to the gardens.”

  “Oh.” He took a step toward her. “I just want you to know…” He bowed his head. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness.”

  “Good. Because you won’t get it.”

  “I don’t deserve it. I carry what I’ve done with me every day.”

  “As do I. Your carelessness will never be forgotten.”

  “Good,” Graden retorted.

  It wasn’t enough for Ella. “Edwin should be alive. Edwin should be here. But you took him away from me. You took him away from all of us. I will never forget or forgive.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I’m asking for your tolerance. Miles is my friend. He is your brother. He deserves–-”

  Ella shot to her feet, her fists clenched. “Don’t tell me what my family deserves. You have no right to
be here. Or to ask anything of me.”

  “Miles is my friend. I don’t want to see him torn between us.”

  Ella lifted her chin. “That won’t be a problem. He will always choose family over you.”

  “As he should.”

  She ground her teeth, her gaze narrowed. “I know about you.” Her voice was soft and threatening. “I made it my mission to know everything I could about you. I know what you did.”

  Graden froze. How much did she know?

  A satisfied grin twisted her lips.

  His gaze swept her face. Her deep blue eyes flashed with anger, her jaw clenched. Her skin was smooth and touchable. A second passed and then another and still, she did not elaborate. He relaxed slightly. “You know nothing.”

  “After you killed Edwin, I made it a point to find out about you. All about you. You would be surprised how much servants talk.”

  Graden shook his head, still not concerned. “Mere gossip. If you think you know me from gossip, then you know nothing at all.”

  She nodded. “I had to wade through some wild stories. Like you drink the blood of children and you dance naked beneath the full moon.”

  Graden chuckled. He hadn’t heard those, and he wondered if she was making them up.

  “Of course, I discounted nothing until I could prove it. Miles certainly would have noticed you dancing naked beneath a full moon.”

  Graden nodded in agreement. “As would the king.”

  “Your mother was sick.”

  Graden’s humor left him as tingles of foreboding danced up his spine. “Aye. She died from an illness.”

  “The same illness your father recovered from.”

  He nodded. That was common knowledge. “I suppose you spoke with the physician.”

  “Halacre. He relayed to me what happened that night.”

  Graden had never liked Halacre. He was the one man who knew that Graden had given his father something to drink and he recovered. He never would have guessed the man would have told others about it.

  “It was a miraculous recovery. Your father was very ill. Halacre told me he was certain he would die.”

  “Father had just come back from war,” Graden remembered. “I was a boy. I didn’t want to lose him.”

  “Halacre told me you ran from the room and disappeared for the entire night. Strange. I mean, your father was dying. Your place was by his side.”

  Graden shook his head. “Don’t, Ella. Whatever you think you know is not what happened.”

  “Just like Edwin? I have questions about his death, too. You can’t keep the truth from coming out.”

  “I won’t run,” Graden said quietly. “No matter what you ask. No matter what you think you know.”

  “Where did you go the night of your father’s illness?” Ella asked, tilting her head like a predator before pouncing on its prey.

  Graden stared at her, but in his mind’s eye he saw white eyes. His chest constricted with the memory. “I would have done anything to save him.”

  “And you did, didn’t you? I have a theory. After speaking to some of the villagers, there really was only one place you could have gone.”

  Complete dread washed over him. He’d heard of men being stoned for dabbling in black magic. He’d been surprised that hadn’t happened to him. He knew the rumors were out there. He knew the villagers suspected. But it wasn’t him he was suddenly concerned with.

  “There is a witch who lives not far from your castle. I think you went to the witch to save your father’s life.”

  God’s blood! Not only was the woman beautiful, but she was persistent and astute. He could never let her know that was the truth. He could be hung for witchcraft. He laughed. “A witch? You believe that gossip?”

  “The only question I have is what she asked in return. Your soul?”

  “There is no witch near my castle. She would have been driven out long ago.”

  “Your people fear her. They stay away from her.”

  Graden straightened as a sudden horrible thought came to him. “Did you go to her? Did you visit her?”

  “Not yet. But I will.”

  “No!” Graden said and grabbed her arms. He was shocked at how fearful he was. But not for him, not for what she could discover about him; the fear was for her. “Stay away from her.”

  Shocked by his vehement response, her mouth dropped open, her gaze sweeping over his face.

  The touch of her arms, the nearness of her, caught Graden off guard. His anger, his guilt and secrets all vanished. He dropped his gaze to her lips. The only thing he could think of was kissing her.

  She pulled away, frowning in confusion. Disconcerted, she crossed her arms. She looked as flustered as he felt. She took a step away from him and then another until she turned and hurried from the garden.

  Graden stared after her for a long moment. He couldn’t get the feeling of intrigue and desire from his hazy mind. He had wanted to kiss her! He mentally shook himself. That was never going to happen! Not with Ella.

  It took a moment more for him to realize that he was alone in the garden.

  Ella raced into the kitchen, her fists clenched tight. The servants backed out of her way quickly. She took the stairs to the upper hallway. She was so shaken that she couldn’t think straight! What had he done? Just touching her made her lose her trail of thoughts. She had been on the right path, she knew it. Then, he had touched her.

  With a heavy sigh, she leaned back against a hallway archway. She frowned and shook her head. He was trying to… She didn’t know what, but he was up to something. He wanted something. He might have Miles fooled, but she would never forget Edwin.

  She thought back to that day. The last day she had seen her brother alive. It was a bright day. It was warm, the middle of the summer. Edwin was handsome, daring, and brash. He was the youngest male in their family, wanting to prove himself in the shadow of their father and their oldest brother.

  Ella remembered that Edwin and Miles had argued about jousting in the upcoming tournament. Edwin had been pacing in the inner ward when she found him. He had been angry and he had seemed desperate. She tried to speak with him, begging him to have sense. He wasn’t ready for the joust. That had been the last thing she had ever said to him. She remembered the look he bestowed on her. A crestfallen look of betrayal and hurt shimmered in his brown eyes; a gentle breeze sweeping a lock of his dark hair over his forehead. He had left without another word and gone to the Boar’s Head Inn to drink heavily where he ran into Dumount.

  She had nothing to remember him by except her memory. The way his eyes lit when he was playing a prank on someone. The way that one strand of hair stuck up insolently at the back of his head. The look of hurt that glimmered in his dark eyes before he left for the Boar’s Head Inn.

  Ella shook her head, wringing her hands, regretting that decision. Every day. Wishing she could do it all over again, wishing she could take his side against Miles. Maybe then he wouldn’t have gone to the Boar’s Head Inn. Maybe then he wouldn’t have fought with Dumount. And the worst part about it was that while Dumount had delivered the death blow, she was as responsible for Edwin’s death as much as he.

  Tears rose in her eyes. She would never forget or forgive. Dumount or herself. She turned to look out the window. A soft breeze touched her hot cheeks. The sun’s warmth reached her fingers as they curved over the cold stone window ledge. With a sigh she leaned forward on her elbows.

  That’s when she saw Graden in her garden. He hadn’t left. He stood absolutely still, looking down at one of the rose bushes. Then, he turned this way and that as if inspecting it. She hadn’t known he liked roses so much. Not that she cared.

  And then he moved to the next rose bush, bending to look beneath it and all around it.

  Strange.

  He moved to the next one and did the same, even gently moving the thorny branches aside. It was almost as if he were searching for something. What was he doing? What was he searching for?

  Ella
watched him move through the entire garden, inspecting each bush carefully. When he reached the castle wall, he stood straight and turned, his gaze slowly sweeping over the grounds. His stare lifted until he saw her.

  Ella met his gaze with confusion and suspicion. What was he doing?

  A Knight Amid Thorns

  Laurel O'Donnell

  Chapter Three

  Ella moved down the spiral stairway quickly, planning to confront Graden. As she entered the Great Hall, a small boy with a brown cotton tunic and breeches ran into the room and paused to glance quickly around. Ella recognized him as Thomas, the cook’s son.

  “Are you looking for something, Thomas?” Ella asked him as he ran past her.

  He faced her, dancing anxiously from foot to foot. “My cat. He’s supposed ta stay in the castle, but I’m afraid he got out again. Mum will be angry. He’s my responsibility.”

  “I can help you search.”

  “Oh no, m’lady. He is my responsibility. I will find him.” Thomas shook his head and his brown locks waved with the movement. “I thought he’d help with the mice…” He scratched his head and his young face twisted in displeasure. He bent in a quick a bow. “Thank you, m’lady.” He turned to leave, but suddenly stopped and looked back at her. “But if ya happen ta see him –”

  Ella grinned. “I’ll tell you.”

  Thomas bobbed his head again and whirled to leave, but suddenly skidded to a halt. He spun to her again. “Please don’t tell me mum.”

  Ella nodded. “I won’t.”

  “Thank ye,” he answered as he dashed from the Great Hall toward the inner ward.

  Ella watched him leave the Great Hall. Cook would be furious. This was not the first time Thomas lost track of the cat. She hoped he would find his cat before it got into too much trouble. She moved into the inner ward and caught site of the child racing into the middle of the ward where he halted. She hoped the cat had not gotten this far. There were so many places to hide in the inner ward that Thomas might very well never find it.

  He looked left and right and then darted toward the blacksmith’s shop.

  Ella scowled. If the cat made it to the blacksmith’s shop, it was probably long gone by now. The odds of Thomas finding it were slim. The blacksmith’s shop was close to the kennels and the barracks. She felt sympathy for the boy and stepped outside to follow his progress. She wanted him to find the cat, but the farther away from the keep he got, the less likely he would find it.