Redeeming the Rogue Knight

by Elisabeth Hobbes

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Roger wrinkled his forehead.

  Lucy’s throat tightened and she felt tears prickle her eyes. He clearly didn’t think he’d asked anything wrong.

  ‘You scorn me for being a whore one moment, then the next you ask me to perform the same service for you! You’re just the same as Risby.’

  Roger’s mouth fell open.

  ‘I’m not asking you to go on your knees for me to pay a debt. I’m asking you to be my lover. Surely it’s better to belong to one man than to anyone who will pay.’

  Lucy lifted her chin haughtily. ‘I don’t intend to “belong” to anyone. I did what I had to in order to clear my debt—which thanks to your interruption still hangs over my head.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t.’ His face grew solemn. ‘I settled what you owe and left him with a bruise or two to remind him how to behave in future. He won’t bother you again and if he tries he’ll answer to me.’

  That he’d do that for her made her want to weep. ‘So you think you’ve bought me. My debt was for me to clear, not for him to sell on.’

  ‘He didn’t sell it on. That’s not why I’m asking.’

  ‘And you still want me now you know I’ll whore for anybody?’ She swallowed a knot of distress that choked her. ‘Or perhaps because of that?’

  ‘That’s not fair.’ Roger’s face darkened. ‘I was on my way to ask you anyway when I discovered you with the miller. I want you because you drive me wild with desire. When I go back to Yorkshire I want you to come with me. Robbie, too. We can be together, sharing our lives with each other. You cannot deny that we feel something for each other.’

  He pulled her to him, wrapping one arm around her waist. He bent his head, burying his face in her hair. ‘Seeing you today doing what you were doing caused me greater pain than any arrow. Knowing why you did it was even more agony. I would spare you that again. I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe. Tell me that kiss did nothing for you. I know you feel what I do.’

  Roger’s muscles were taut, the strength in them distractingly beguiling. It would be all too easy to give in to what he wanted. What her body cried that she wanted more than ever. Lucy closed her eyes, imagining a future where she did not have to face the people who scorned her. Where Roger was with her and she could give in to the sensations that drove her to distraction. At least until he grew bored, or she fell with child and he denied all responsibility.

  ‘And if it did, what then? You’d keep me until you get tired of me, then you’d leave!’ Lucy said, wriggling free.

  ‘I won’t do that!’ He leaned close, as if he intended to embrace her again. ‘I’ll never tire of you, Lucy. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever known.’

  She stepped back out of his reach. ‘Have you had many mistresses, my lord?’

  ‘A handful,’ he admitted.

  ‘And where are they now? Do you think about them?’

  ‘From time to time.’

  ‘But you did not love them enough to stay with them.’

  She moved past him to sit on the stool beside the fire. Roger came and knelt at her feet, the picture of loyal affection.

  ‘I have never kept a mistress I did not like. With every other woman I always expected it to end, but I can’t imagine a day you aren’t in my life until I die. Your wellbeing matters to me. I’m...very fond of you, dove.’

  Lucy’s heart fluttered. If he had professed love she would have left the room, but his reluctance to name the emotion was oddly more convincing.

  She touched his cheek. ‘Strange though it may seem, and much against my better judgement, I’m growing fond of you, too. And you know I want you. I always have. But even if my heart did not race when you look at me in that manner, I won’t be one of those women. All men leave eventually. It’s just a question of time.’

  ‘If that’s what you believe, then why not enjoy yourself until it ends?’ Roger took hold of her hand once more, resting his thumb on the underside of her wrist and moving it in small circles that made her innards squirm with desire. ‘For both of us to share in the pleasure that lovemaking can bring.’

  ‘Because I don’t want any more fatherless bastards. It’s too easy for men to sire as many as they like and refuse to acknowledge them.’

  ‘That’s not true of every man. I wouldn’t do that to you!’

  ‘You condemned yourself by that measure already when you admitted what you did to Kitty,’ Lucy said sadly. ‘I’ve been the plaything of one nobleman and I’m not going to make the same mistake again.’

  Roger raised his head sharply. ‘You’re talking in riddles. What nobleman?’

  Lucy drew her hands away from his. ‘I said I met Robbie’s father when I worked on Lord Harpur’s estate. He fathered Robbie, then cast me out when I told him I was with child. Did you ever wonder why I took you in and lied for you? It’s because Thomas said Lord Harpur was pursuing you and I hate that man beyond all others.’

  ‘John Harpur? And I thought you took me in because you felt compassion for my pain. Are you certain he is the father?’

  She rounded on Roger furiously. ‘I told you already I was a virgin when he took me.’

  ‘When he took you?’ Roger eyed her sharply. His hand tightened on her arm. ‘Was it rape?’

  Lucy closed her eyes, reliving the first time with the cold, rough bricks of the brewery wall against her back, remembering her thrill at the way the nobleman was half out of his braies before she had uttered a word.

  ‘He was forceful, but I agreed to what he asked. He flattered me and I wanted him, but he made promises he had no intention of keeping. I won’t be so foolish a second time.’

  ‘I apologise for my suggestion,’ Roger muttered. ‘For everything.’

  ‘You see why I did not press my claim on Lord Harpur,’ Lucy said. ‘I was not prepared to suffer the humiliation, knowing full well it would prove useless. Unfortunately, unlike Kitty, there was no one to take care of my bastard so I live as I live and do what I do and my son will grow up with the shame of being baseborn.’

  She blinked away tears.

  ‘What about when you marry, my lord? Would you take our children to live with yours? Would you keep your mistress while you slept in your wife’s arms? How many months would we have together before that happened?’

  ‘I don’t want a wife. I want you,’ Roger said gruffly.

  ‘I will be no man’s mistress, so I thank you, my lord, for the great honour you do me, but I must regretfully decline your request.’

  She spoke coldly but with a gentle smile because even now hurting his feelings made her writhe inside. Roger’s face fell. His eyes filled with pain. He squeezed her hand tightly and his mouth twisted downward.

  ‘You’d rather go down on your knees for other men than live as my mistress.’

  She glared at him. He dropped his gaze, shamefaced. ‘I’d rather command my own fate than be at the whim of a man who could leave at any moment. At least when I do what I do it’s on my terms.’

  ‘I understand.’

  He pushed himself to his feet and walked out of the inn, back erect, shutting the door quietly behind him.

  Lucy bent double in her seat, hugging herself tightly, trying to contain the sorrow that threatened to consume her. Thank goodness Roger had walked out when he did because it had taken all her strength not to accept his offer. Would it have been as foolish as she believed? How fortunate that he would be gone before long and temptation would no longer be in her path.

  She sat up, realising with a start she had not told him about Thomas’s return. That would have to wait until morning now, but when she did, Roger would surely leave, taking her heart with him. Her life would return to normal and gradually she would learn to bury inside her the feelings that could never be satisfied. Perhaps she had been too rash to refuse becau
se besides her there was someone else who could benefit from what Roger had suggested. She glanced at the ceiling, thinking of Robbie who slept there peacefully, unaware of the turmoil that was happening below.

  * * *

  Roger stomped down to the stream, removed his boots and breeches, and waded in wearing only his braies and shirt. The water was bitterly cold, reminding him of the beck at Wharram where he would hurl himself after a bout of swordplay. He needed the cold water to bring him to his senses after the turmoil of the afternoon.

  Scrubbing away at his hair and body, he played over in his mind what Lucy had said. He had convinced himself she would not refuse, especially after the kiss that had turned his stomach inside out and left him a quivering shell of lust, but now he saw himself through her eyes: a man guilty of the same offences that had caused her misery.

  He had even contemplated repeating his father’s mistakes and causing pain to the unknown future wife that he must one day take, because he could not imagine a time when his heart would not belong to Lucy. He had done nothing to give her any reason to believe she could trust him, so it was no wonder she was not prepared to risk herself. She should be someone’s wife, to be treasured and kept faith with.

  Roger sat on the bank of the river, eyes sliding to the inn, picturing Lucy sitting alone. He loved her, more truly than he had loved anyone before. It was not only the need to possess her that drove him, but the need to be claimed and possessed in return. To be judged and found not lacking. He’d been wrong to suggest his idea today. It was too soon after the hurtful words that had passed between them. Perhaps he had been wrong to suggest it at all, but he could see no other way of sharing Lucy’s life.

  Perhaps he did not deserve that honour.

  For the first time, Roger deeply understood that the unkindness he had inflicted on others with his casual use and dismissal of them was rebounding on him and deservedly so. He beat his hand against the ground. Small darts of pain shot through his arm and shoulder.

  He drew his knees up and put his head in his hands, grief and shame and hopelessness overwhelming him, not caring that the sun had dropped from the sky and the evening air caused the wound on his shoulder to ache.

  When the cold became too uncomfortable to bear he pulled his shirt back on. Appearing half-naked would do nothing to convince Lucy his feelings were driven by more than lust. He walked back to the inn and let himself in quietly. Lucy was sitting where he had left her. From the tensing of her back and shoulders as he entered he understood she was as aware of his presence as he was conscious of her every movement.

  ‘There’s something I have to tell you. I should have told you as soon as you arrived.’

  Roger braced himself for further revelations to shatter his heart.

  ‘Thomas is back.’

  He instinctively stared around, scalp prickling.

  ‘Not here. He found me on the way back from Mattonfield. He says he knows who is pursuing him. He said you could help him.’

  The blood coursed hot through his veins in anticipation of putting an end to the mystery that had plagued him and taking his retribution on the men who had attacked him. He was lost in the thoughts until he noticed Lucy standing very still in front of him, waiting for him to return to the present.

  ‘Tell me everything.’

  In a low voice, she repeated everything Thomas had said and gave Roger directions where to find her brother.

  ‘It’s too late now. I’ll leave at first light.’

  ‘And then you’ll be leaving for good,’ she said quietly.

  ‘It looks that way.’ The thought made him sadder than he thought possible that his time with Lucy was ending. Perhaps when he had done what needed to be done there would be time to prove he was worth risking her heart on, but duty called. He bowed his head, straightening the objects on the counter top, rearranging the oil jar and Lucy’s knife rather than face her and let her glimpse the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

  ‘When you return to Yorkshire, will you take Robbie with you?’

  ‘What?’

  Lucy tilted her head slightly to one side, her profile sharp in the shadows. ‘You can give him a life I can’t. I know he’s younger than is customary, but you could find a place for him in your father’s house.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ll be happy here knowing he’s cared for.’ She faced him, looking utterly alone. Roger’s heart cracked, hearing the lie beneath her words.

  ‘No, you won’t.’ He wrapped his arms around her until she was enveloped tightly against his chest.

  ‘You would have me take your child and leave you here?’

  She nodded, still tightly held in his arms.

  ‘If you care for me at all, do for him what someone did for your child. He is no more at fault than your daughter is. Redeem your past mistakes by helping Robbie.’

  Her voice was muffled against his chest and he had to strain to make out the words. His shirt was becoming damp and he realised with a start she must be crying. His own eyes welled up. To take the son she loved so much but to leave her behind was inconceivable. How would that buy him redemption?

  ‘I do care for you. So much more than I thought possible,’ Roger whispered. He kissed the top of her head. Her body stiffened, then her chest rose and fell, pushing her breasts hard against him. He left another kiss on her temple, then another beside her eye, tasting the salt tears.

  Lucy sighed. Her eyelashes flickered against his lips. Roger risked another kiss, this time on her cheek. Her arms slipped around his waist, meeting in the small of his back. Her breath tickled the soft hollow behind his ear and he felt himself growing harder. Lucy turned her head a little more and Roger found her lips against his for the second time that day.

  His first impulse was to grasp the opportunity with as much passion as he had previously, but he reined himself in. He craved so much from Lucy, but what he desired more than the brief release of a moment of ecstasy was this quiet closeness. Instead of eagerly parting Lucy’s lips, his tongue delving inside to bring her under his command, he gently brushed them with his.

  Roger closed his eyes, surrendering to the emotions engulfing him. Their lips moved in unison as both of them finally acknowledged wordlessly that what they felt for each other went beyond mere lust.

  ‘Stay with me tonight,’ he pleaded once he was able to draw breath. ‘It’s been a horrible day. I’ve spent too long alone and so have you. Don’t let tonight be another night like that.’

  ‘I won’t lie with you. I’ve told you that already,’ Lucy answered, drawing away.

  ‘That’s not what I’m asking,’ Roger said. ‘We both need comfort and, whatever happens after tonight, I want the memory of sleeping with you in my arms. Will you do me that honour? Please.’

  A subtle change in her stance told Roger she was willing to be persuaded. She rested her head against his shoulder and shifted closer until the gaps between their bodies disappeared. She was already planning her surrender and needed only a gentle nudge.

  ‘I’m scared. I want you so much it terrifies me, but I won’t bear another bastard, not for any man.’

  ‘I swear I will not ask that of you,’ he whispered.

  ‘If I do this, will you take Robbie?’ Her eyes were glinting with tears that remained unshed. ‘Is that the price?’

  ‘There is no price. Tonight I’m making no promises, setting no conditions,’ Roger ran his thumb across her cheekbone, wiping away the evidence of tears. ‘Do this for us alone. Because we both want to. There’s nothing to be gained from pretending otherwise.’

  She was already loosening her braid as he led her to the stairway.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A different man awoke where Roger had slept. He’d woken with other women in his arms, but always after a night
of entertaining acrobatics that had satisfied him to some degree or other and demonstrated his skills to the woman in question. He had been as good as his word, making no attempt to seduce Lucy. They had done nothing more than hold each other and kiss. Oh, but how they had kissed, with passion so deep and heartfelt it made him quiver to think of it.

  She had cried in his arms while he held her and bit back unexpected tears of his own. He had comforted her and relished the feeling of being needed and wanted. Whereas he would once have scorned such behaviour as hours wasted, he did not consider them anything of the sort.

  True, he had not satisfied his craving to discover what sort of lover Lucy might be—and he carried so much pent-up desire that he was certain he would explode if her hand so much as brushed against him—but he had never before woken already counting the hours until the next night where he could repeat the experience. He knew instinctively that he would never again be satisfied to pass a night with a woman he cared nothing for. He would be satisfied by no one but Lucy.

  He should be leaving to meet Thomas, but Lucy was asleep, lying in the crook of his good arm with her foot hooked over his, and he had no inclination to move. At rest, her face was untroubled by any of the cares she had spilled out to him lying in the blackness. She, too, was fully dressed, but Roger was aware of every limb, soft swelling and beguiling curve of her body where it touched his. He pulled the blanket higher, cocooning them in warmth. He shut his eyes until he felt Lucy beginning to stir, then craned his head and watched her eyelids flicker as she woke. Her hands moved beneath the covers as she checked her clothing.

  ‘You’re wearing everything and behaved perfectly modestly.’ Roger tried to ignore the stinging implication that he could not be trusted. ‘Do you think you sleep so soundly that you wouldn’t notice me doing anything? I gave you my word and I kept it.’

  She relaxed. Roger wrapped an arm around her back, rolling to face her until their eyes met. He began to kiss her, at the same time sliding his hand down to rest in the small of her back. Instead of the eager warmth she had shown the night before, she twisted her head to escape his lips and drew back.