A Knight To Call My Own

by Sherry Ewing

Lynet gazed around with passion filled eyes to see who had interrupted them, but there was no one near, except the man who had proved his point that Rolf was not the knight for her. Aye! The deliberate burning glare in those obnoxious hazel eyes told her he knew exactly what he had done to her, and he was glad for it, the bastard.

  Ian leaned down from his towering height so they came almost nose to nose. “Lesson number one, Lynet, is never lie to me again. Rolf is a good man, but he will never be able to make you feel the way I can. I will be victorious at the end of the games, and you will be my wife. You…are…mine.”

  He gave her but an instant for the words he proclaimed to register in her brain, which surely had been turned to mush. Afore she could even mange to form some limited response that would most likely be garbled jibber-jabber, Ian gave her a quick kiss upon her already tender lips, opened her door and gave her a gentle push through the portal. Once she was inside, Ian closed the door behind her.

  Feeling completely numb, with her feelings a jumbled mess, Lynet could go no further into her chamber. Instead, she leaned back against the wooden door, trying to somehow control and still her racing heart. It took every bit of effort she had left in her just to turn her body and lift her arm in order to slide the bolt into place. Her ear pressed to the door, she listened intently for signs of Ian’s departure. She held her breath with the knowledge he, too, lingered just on the other side with only an obnoxious piece of wood now separating them. She heard it then...the unmistakable sound of his footsteps receding down the corridor to seek his own slumber.

  With his departure, her breath left her in a swift rush afore her trembling legs crumbled beneath her. Sliding helplessly to the floor, her hands shook as she fingered her sensitive lips. Aye, she had indeed been most thoroughly kissed, and by one who knew, inevitability, she had enjoyed every instant of their encounter. Surely he had branded her as his own with the scorching warmth of his touch. She may as well call Father Donovan and get their marriage over and done with. May God above help her and give her strength for what was to come with that insufferable man she so wanted to hate.

  Hate him, or love him…she was not sure which she wanted to believe more. Either one was just as bad. For what truly mattered where her heart was concerned, was that Lynet recognized she was in big trouble.

  Chapter Nine

  Lynet’s feet barely touched the turret stairs beneath her as she held on to the red wrap around her shoulders. She was late and knew for a certainty she would incur Dristan’s wrath for not being in her place on the platform erected for the family at the start of the games. How she had managed to obtain even a wink of sleep was beyond her comprehension. She had tossed and turned upon her bed for hours, thinking on Ian’s kiss afore she had thrown the coverlets from her to do something more constructive with her time.

  She had a firm resolve this morn when she had risen after only a brief two hours of rest. Her brow furrowed thinking on that insufferable man. Ian was overly confident she would simply fall in love with him after just one kiss. Of that, there could be no doubt, but she was determined she would prove him wrong. She would not succumb to his charms so readily and become such an easy conquest. Nay, she would not!

  With thoughts of Ian’s kiss seared into her heart, she pushed down the notion she would belong to him at the end of the games, no matter that she had wished to be his wife for almost her entire life. There was another who was equally ready to take on the role of her husband, and Lynet was sure that, with time, she could somehow manage to love him.

  Silencing the small voice inside her head telling her she was making a horrific mistake, she kept onward in her quest to be the mistress of her own fate. Racing through the Great Hall, she took no time to grab even a bit of cheese to break her fast. She did not want to miss the opportunity of sending Rolf off to battle for her hand without a small token of her affection. Aye, the embroidered red ribbon she held tightly in her hand billowed behind her in the soft morning breeze as she continued her flight through the inner bailey. There was no time to lose if she was to bestow this token to the knight who deserved her loyalty after all he had done for her over these past many years.

  Through the portal of the inner bailey, she saw him sitting tall and handsome upon his black as night steed. The mighty warhorse practically pranced with pride as it carried its rider, who held a banner with one hand and the reins with the other. Yet, she was wasting precious time staring at him, the little she had, and her common sense that she must needs hurry had her rushing through the tall gate to reach the outer baily wall.

  Rolf was already riding out towards the postern gate, along with the other knights who thought to make her their lady wife. If she had stopped for even one instant, she might have been impressed by the display of colorful standards that flew in the air for the entire world to see. There were many who would be competing this day, but only one now drew her attention as she rushed towards him.

  “Rolf!” She called out his name and watched as he pulled back upon the reins to halt his steed. His grin widened whilst she shortened the distance between them, moving forward to stand in the middle of a staircase which led down to the outer baily.

  He maneuvered his horse ’til the animal became parallel with the steps to the back entrance of the keep. ’Twas just what she needed in order to gaze upon him, eye to eye, given the additional height the stairs afforded her.

  “My lady,” Rolf murmured with an appreciative glance at her attire. “You are most lovely this day. The yellow of your gown is like a fresh breath of summer sunshine to brighten my day.”

  Lynet blushed upon hearing the compliment, adjusted the shawl she had around her shoulders, and gazed at him shyly. “I have something for you. I was up all night working on it that I may bestow it on you and place it upon your arm.”

  “You would honor me with a favor?” he asked, waiting for her response.

  “Aye,” she declared with a simple acknowledgment and a slight smile. His brow rose as if in a silent question as to the wisdom of her choice. Lynet did not have long to wait to hear what she feared would come from his lips. This man knew her so well.

  “Is there not perchance another who you would rather give such a token to, my lady?” he questioned honestly whilst keeping their gazes locked, one on the other. “Not that I would complain such a gift was placed upon my arm as long as your favor was freely given.”

  Lynet began to squirm under his close scrutiny and averted her eyes to fumble with the ribbon. Hiding the heaviness of her heart, she raised her face. The confidence that had briefly filled her just moments ago, now left her shaking with her decision to press forward to wed Rolf, should he be the victor in the games. “Nay…there is no other,” she proclaimed holding out the favor. “See how I have embroidered it with your colors so no other would question my choice in a champion knight? It even matches the shade of your cloak.”

  “’Tis in truth Dristan’s colors, my lady, as you well know, since I have no other place than Berwyck to call home,” Rolf said solemnly.

  “Aye, I know that, of course. And yet, I would still tie this upon your arm if you would but allow me the privilege,” Lynet said breathlessly. She looked over Rolf’s shoulder to see another who watched her intently. Her heart began its erratic beating with his nearness and knowing he gazed upon her, yet she refused to allow Ian to change her resolve. “Will you allow it?” she asked returning her full attention to Rolf.

  “I would be a fool to gainsay you and say you nay, Lady Lynet,” he answered, holding out his arm to her. “You do me a great honor.”

  She finished tying the ribbon, but still lightly touched the chainmail on his arm. “Nay, ’tis I who am honored by your acceptance of such a meager offering for one who would go into battle for my hand. You will be careful, Rolf, will you not?” she asked with a slight tremor in her voice. She would hate to see anyone hurt because of her.

  “But of course,” Rolf said, taking her hand. He held it gently afore leaning forwa
rd to brush his lips across her skin.

  She gave a slight shiver. ’Twas not, however, from the gentleness of Rolf’s display of affection, but in response to the blazing hot glare from Ian afore he stepped into the stirrup and lifted himself up onto his white, ivory-maned horse. ’Twas as if he knew of the ploy she played. Yet to her, ’twas not a game of chance, but her future that was at stake.

  Lynet had not realized her eyes continued to linger on Ian ’til she felt her arm drop as Rolf let go of her fingertips. Her attention once more on her captain, she saw a fleeting look of sadness within his eyes afore he masked the emotions in a cocky grin of self-confidence.

  “I look forward to claiming several dances this eve after I win my matches, my lady,” he declared, and, with a jaunty salute, he kicked his horse into motion, setting off for the tournament.

  Lynet watched Rolf go with a soft smile that quickly turned into a frown when a voice came within her hearing, closer than she anticipated. She turned to see Ian take the very place that Rolf had occupied but an instant afore.

  “Have you no favor to bestow upon your future husband, my dear Lady Lynet?” Ian’s voice all but mocked her.

  “Aye…I just gave him one,” she replied with a saucy flip of her hair. Hazel eyes met blue whilst she attempted to catch her breath. How could one man leave her so lacking for air from just the briefest of glances?

  Ian looked her up and down with an appreciative gaze then gifted her with his own handsomely roguish grin that had her heart beating frantically, once again. “Nay, you did not. But, ’tis of no consequence. You shall soon learn that attempts to make me jealous will not work on me.”

  “I did no such thing,” she said, aghast he had read her so openly.

  “Aye, you did, but those are the games children play, and seldom do they achieve what the heart of an adult desires.”

  “What do you know of what my heart desires?” She drew the wrap closer together to attempt to hide her trembling hands. Surely, even he could hear the rapid betrayal of her beating heart, as it all but cried out for the man afore her, much to her dismay.

  Ian brought his horse closer to the stairway. “Mayhap, I should show you yet again as I did last eve?” he whispered huskily, sending a wave of desire coursing through her.

  “I think not,” she retorted hotly as a blush began to creep up her cheeks. Damn the man’s soul to hell.

  “Another time, perchance, since I must needs go and begin winning my bride,” Ian proclaimed.

  With a tug on the reins, he, too, began to make his way from her. Confusion suddenly consumed her ’til worry that he might be severely injured came to the forefront of her mind. “Ian…wait,” she called out. Surprised she summoned him to return to her, Ian quickly turned his mount in her direction.

  Lynet watched in maidenly delight when Ian maneuvered his steed to stand afore her. With a click of his spurs, the animal put one of its legs forward and bowed his head afore rising. Ian hardly looked like a Scottish laird this day, as he was once more garbed as a knight of the realm. He had always been handsome to her eyes, but he was even more so, now that she had the opportunity to see him through the eyes of a grown woman ready to fall in love. Ian raised his hand over his chest and gave his own short bow, as well as could be managed with the weight of his armor. “My lady,” he said afore once more returning abreast of the stairs. “I am your most humble servant.”

  She bit her lip with indecision for just an instant afore whipping the shawl from her shoulders and tying it on Ian’s arm. “This does not mean I favor you above others,” she declared, trying to find some way to justify her actions that two different men would be wearing a small token of her affection.

  “If you say so,” Ian said, smiling afore he took her hand in his and laid a gentle kiss upon her fingertips.

  Afore she could give him a sharp retort of any kind, he left her there alone, stumbling for words to say to him inside her head. Knowing she, too, must needs make her way to the field, she proceeded no farther than down the few stairs afore another prevented her from following after the two men who wanted to claim her heart. She stared at the young lord in her path, trying to hide the contempt she felt for this particular individual.

  “You have erred greatly to give your favor to anyone other than myself, let alone that you gave out two,” Broderick of Lorn sneered at her with a curled lip. His distaste of what she had done was clearly plastered on his handsome face, and she knew a life with this particular man would be spent catering to his every whim.

  Lynet lifted her head defiantly. “You are not my husband, nor master, that I must needs answer to you,” she spat out, not caring who heard her words that barely contained her fury.

  Broderick’s nostrils flared whilst he clenched and unclenched his fists. He then did the unexpected by blatantly staring at her body, as though he were undressing her right there in the courtyard with his eyes. “Mayhap, not yet…but you will be mine by the tourney’s end.”

  Lynet’s limbs quaked beneath her gown as he left her. In those brief, few instances she looked upon Broderick, she witnessed an evil side to the intimidating man that she did not ever want to witness again.

  Trying her best to compose herself, she came to realize she was clutching at the stone winged dragon upon the railing of the stairs. The mouth snarled forever open, and if the etched eyes could condemn her for giving her favor to two different men, then the demon was doing just that. She wagged her finger at the carved beast, as if it had spoken aloud her own foolish thoughts.

  “Do not look at me like that,” she sneered afore picking up the edge of her gown to run and find her place amongst the crowd. Each step told her she needed to pick one knight alone to cheer for. With her decision once more made, she choked on her choice and took her place next to her sister to gaze at the combatants for her hand. The sooner Rolf won, the sooner this fiasco would be over!

  ~***~

  Rolf had not thought the hideous emotion of jealousy would ever consume him. Yet whilst he watched the young woman of no more than a score of years dance her way across the Great Hall, jealous he was. He was not the only victor this day, and ’twould take yet unto a full two se’nnight’s afore he could be proclaimed the victor. He was so confident he would win Lynet’s hand at the end of the games that he gave no further thought he could not also win her heart.

  He fingered the edge of the ribbon she had lovingly made for him whilst he continued to gaze upon Lynet and her current partner. He had witnessed her moment of astonishment that he had chosen to wear her token this eve when they came to sup, although, how she could think that he would not, mayhap, told him more than he cared to admit, even unto himself. But don it he would, for she had given it to him, and he would pray ’twould remain intact, given the number of knights who attempted to tear it from his arm.

  He diverted his attention from the fair maid long enough to witness Kenna’s sad look whilst she watched him. ’Twas almost an open confession that could have been shouted from the rafters, for her silent look told him what he already knew within his heart, if he cared to but look deep enough. He refused to acknowledge he would lose this chance to have Lynet as his wife, no matter that Ian MacGillivray had the same deep commitment.

  Rolf ignored the warning signs around him with a heavy sigh and once more looked upon Lynet and Ian as they danced in perfect accord. The young woman may have tried to remain indifferent to her partner, but Rolf easily saw behind her ruse. Each time she knew Ian no longer watched her, her eyes sparkled with happiness, like the jewels brightly shining around her throat.

  The dance ended and the couple broke apart, to Rolf’s great relief, although ’twas not long afore another took Ian’s place. Rolf had already had the pleasure of his victory dance with Lynet so he knew there would not be another opportunity to have her in his arms. He was about to retire to his chambers when he noticed Lynet’s current partner risked much, considering the placement of his hand.

  Rolf was about to
intervene on the lady’s behalf when Dristan rose and took care of the matter himself. Mayhap, that, too, was for the best. He was afraid if he had had to deal with Lord Broderick, the man would be missing a much needed limb for having placed his hand lower than Lynet’s waist. At least, that would have ensured one less man vying for her hand in marriage.

  He took delight when the lady of his musing noticed him leaning up against the wall and waved. He returned the gesture with a slight nod of his head and was pleasantly pleased when she began weaving her way through the crowd to join him. A servant was passing by and Rolf reached out for a chalice of wine, which he offered to Lynet when she came abreast of him.

  “My thanks, Sir Rolf. I am most parched,” she whispered breathlessly.

  He continued to gaze down upon her, but said not a word. Her flowery essence assaulted his senses, as if to mock him of what he would never have to call his very own. Still he could not, for the life of him, help himself from inhaling the scent of her and enjoying this brief moment to treasure for all of his days.

  “Rolf?” His name echoed inside his head, and he realized she must have been speaking to him, but he was ignorant to what the lady had been saying.

  Clearing his throat, he looked down into the bluest eyes he had ever beheld and was once more lost. “My lady?”

  She gave him a slight smile. “I had asked if you are enjoying the festivities this eve.”

  He returned her smile with one of his own. “I am now,” he replied and watched a most becoming blush rush up her cheeks.

  She appeared as though she was struggling for something to say. ’Twas a first, since speech between them had never been difficult. “Rolf, I─” she began, only to have her words stumble into silence, once more.

  Her unspoken words tore at his heart, knowing the cause. She did not need to speak them, for ’twas perfectly clear to whom her affections truly belonged. Yet, ’til she settled the matter between them, Rolf would continue to fight for her hand and hold out some small measure of hope she could still be his.