by Jody Hedlund
“I wouldn’t think of asking you to go without a meal,” I started.
“You’re not asking, my lady,” Sir Derrick interrupted as he placed bread into the hands of the next child. “I’m offering. After last night’s overindulgence, the sacrifice won’t hurt my body in the least. And if it would help these children and make them happy . . .”
For a moment I was at a loss for words.
“I have no doubt the duke and my two companions will willingly sacrifice their portions as well, in order to fill the bellies of these children to overflowing.” His gray eyes held the intensity I was coming to expect from him.
“You’re very kind, and I would indeed be grateful for your sacrifice.”
“Although I would do anything for you, my lady,” he replied softly, “I’m doing this for the children’s sake, not yours.”
I didn’t quite know how to respond. My vanity suggested I should take offense, but the deeper part of me was relieved — relieved that he was noble enough to want to make such a sacrifice from his heart rather than from his desire to impress me.
In the end, I said nothing at all. For some time, I worked with Cook and Sir Derrick to distribute the loaves, pastries, cheese, and cuts of meat Cook had prepared for the noon meal. When the last of the children had skipped away with an extra bundle, I leaned against the cool stone wall near the kitchen door and wiped the perspiration from my forehead.
Sir Derrick had disappeared into the kitchen and now stepped out of the dark interior with a mug in hand. “For you, my lady.” He held it out to me. “A cool drink of ale.”
“Thank you.” I offered him a smile and then took a sip of the spicy drink, letting the coolness of it soothe my parched throat.
He glanced to the high noon sun and then rested his back against the stone wall as well. He soon began watching a few remaining children nearby petting Pup.
In the shade, I took another sip, and peeked at Sir Derrick sideways. In his sun-bronzed face, the scar near his eye stood out starkly white and lent him a ruggedness that his companions lacked. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead. And he wore his hunting clothes from earlier. But even without clean and fancy apparel, he was still as fine-looking as the other two knights.
I waited for him to start a conversation like his companions had. But he only crossed his arms over his chest. The movement pulled his tunic tight against his muscular arms. From the rippling set of his jaw, I had the feeling he wasn’t planning to be the first to speak.
Very well. Perhaps he wasn’t as outgoing as his friends. “You must be glad to be free of your hot armor and ready to have a break from the fighting.”
The muscles in his jaw flexed before he cast me a sideways glance. “I’m a warrior, my lady. It’s what I’ve been trained to do.”
“Why, sir,” I said with a half laugh, unable to keep from baiting him. “Surely you enjoy other things too?” I waited for his declaration that he was looking forward to spending time with me. But it never came. Instead he pushed away from the wall as if to leave. I held the mug out to him. “You must be thirsty. Would you like a drink?” I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t want to part ways yet.
He hesitated but then reached for the mug, careful not to brush his fingers against mine. He took a long drink and over the rim of the mug, his gaze captured mine.
What should I do? Pretend I didn’t notice him staring? Or stare right back? My heart fluttered, and I peered at the bouquet I’d discarded on the wooden serving table. The flowers were long-past wilted.
He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I see my friends have already been hard at work wooing you.”
I wanted to deny it, but the pin burned in the pocket underneath the layers of my gown. “Yes, they’ve both sought me out.”
“And given gifts?”
I nodded.
“Then it appears I’m lagging behind.” There was something hard to his tone I didn’t understand.
“Shall I go away, sir?” I said lightly. “And give you the chance to seek me?”
He smiled at my small jest, and I found that I rather liked the curve of his lips and the unguarded softness that came over his stony features. “You can’t hide from me for long. I’m good at the hunt.”
For some reason, his words sent a tremor of warmth through me. And the longer he held my gaze, the warmer my insides grew, until I was tempted to press my hot cheeks against the cold stone of the wall behind me.
He finally set the mug onto the serving table. There was something in his eyes that told me he was every inch a man and that he wasn’t playing a child’s game. “I regret to say I’ve already done all the hunting today that I should.”
“Done?” I didn’t like the dismissal in his tone. How could he not want to woo me the way the others had? I’d not mistaken the attraction in his eyes, had I?
“I cannot hope to compete with Bennet’s winsome ways and whatever gifts Collin may give you.” He gave a small bow and then started away.
I wanted to reach for him and stop him. But I could never be so brazen as to touch a man of my own accord. “Perhaps you’re afraid.” I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Perhaps you lack the courage to pursue me as your friends have.”
At my words he halted and spun around. His brows came together in a fierce scowl. And before I could react, he strode back to me, closing the distance between us with quick, decisive strides. He didn’t stop until he was mere inches away.
My breath caught at his closeness. What had I done? Had I made him angry? Somehow, I felt as though I ought to blame myself for goading him. But he’d been so aloof, I hadn’t been able to resist.
He lifted his fingers to my cheek, and his callused thumb drew a gentle line down my jaw. I sucked in a sharp breath at his boldness but found myself melting under his touch.
When his thumb reached the end of my jaw, he cupped my chin, tilting my head up. “My lady, people may say many things about me,” he whispered hoarsely. “But I pray they never say I lack courage. God forbid it.”
His face was near enough that the warmth of his breath fanned me.
Never had I looked so deeply into someone’s eyes. I was helplessly lost.
“I’m not and never will be a coward.” His gaze fell to my lips, and my chest contracted with a frightening yet excited swoosh. Surely he would not be so audacious as to take a kiss from me. Not here. Not now.
I wanted to reply, but even if I’d been able to think of something to say, I doubted I’d be able to make my tongue work to speak.
“And I am most certainly not afraid to kiss you, my lady.” His lips hovered all too close, and my breath stuttered. The steel in his eyes darkened, and I felt as if all time were standing still.
But then slowly, deliberately, he let go of me and took a step back. He locked his hands behind his back and put several steps between us, leaving me suddenly cold. I wrapped my arms across my chest to fight off a shiver.
“Please rest assured, my lady, that if I resist pursuing, it’s certainly not because I’m a coward.”
“You have convinced me, sir.” I wished I could control the waver in my voice and the strange, overwhelming desire to stand close to him again.
Even though he’d put a safe and proper distance between us, his eyes wouldn’t let me go.
Sudden angry shouts from the inner courtyard at the front of the keep drew my attention. Before I could make sense of the commotion, Trudy appeared from around the corner, hustling toward me.
“Rose, you come with me this instant,” she called, shaking her head, her portly frame heaving with each step.
“Whatever is the matter?” I asked as she flew upon me as fast as her short legs could carry her.
“The sheriff has come with several of his men.” Trudy grabbed my arm and began to steer me toward the open kitchen door. “And he’s very angry.”
The swift sound of metal rasping against metal was followed by the glint of Sir Derrick’s dagger as he unsheathed it from
his side.
The strength in his face and the steadiness of his stance should have calmed me. But dread crept into my heart. After learning that the sheriff was resistant to my rule, I wasn’t sure I was ready to face him again. And yet, how would he learn to take my rule seriously if I cowered away?
“Why is the sheriff here this time?” I asked while trying to tug away from my nursemaid.
Trudy swatted my backside, urging me to continue toward the arched doorway. “He’s accusing you of sending one of the knights to break into his estate last night.”
I glanced again at Sir Derrick. One of the knights had undeniably done the deed. Had it been Sir Derrick? His gray eyes glinted, but his face was like iron, giving nothing away. If it had been him, I couldn’t tell.
“Let me go to the sheriff.” Once again, I tried to break free, but Trudy’s grip was strong. “I’ll set the matter aright.”
“No, my lady.” Trudy huffed, and her ample chest rose up and down in her distress. “We need to wait for the abbot. He knows how to calm the sheriff.”
I needed to learn how to put the wayward lawman in his place once and for all. But part of me hesitated. The sheriff had already sent me an unspoken message with his disregard for my laws banning the old torture methods. He’d made a mockery of my compassionate approaches. What if I faced him and he only mocked me further? What would I do then? I would only make myself look weaker and frailer.
Perhaps for now my best move was to let the knights confront the sheriff on my behalf.
I sighed and let Trudy lead me into the castle, into safety. As much as I wanted to be seen as a strong leader, there were times when I didn’t want to face my growing responsibilities.
Chapter
7
SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN MY BACK BETWEEN MY SHOULDER blades. Even though the doors and windows of the Great Hall were wide open, my body was tense and hot.
The altercation in the courtyard with the sheriff’s men had been swift. Although the sheriff had come with the intent of forcing the duke to leave the castle, no blood had been shed. The mere sight of our weapons had persuaded the sheriff to solve any differences through peaceful methods rather than might.
I turned my attention to the front of the Great Hall, where Lady Rosemarie sat in her golden chair on the raised platform. With the long room open before her, she remained still and regal: her chin held high, her shoulders straight, and her gaze never swerving from the sheriff at the doorway.
Even so, I could see a flicker of anxiety in her eyes and wished I could reassure her that we would keep her safe no matter what happened.
The duke stood guard next to her. He laid a hand upon her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.
The abbot entered behind the sheriff and moved with slow, measured steps down the center aisle toward Lady Rosemarie. He tucked his hands in the long sleeves of his flowing brown habit. His expression was serene, as if he were getting ready to lead Matins. Apparently he was unruffled by the altercation with the sheriff, and with Lady Rosemarie’s decision to give the duke’s contest a try.
The duke had reminded her only moments before that neither he nor the abbot controlled her destiny. Whatever the future held was in God’s hands, and it was his will she must seek above all else.
Nevertheless, something hot slid around me, blanketing me and making me sweat.
What if she changed her mind about the contest? What if she decided she didn’t want to go forward with the month of courtship?
The thought was more unwelcome than I cared to admit.
A part of me pondered the irony of my thoughts. My friends and I had been reluctant when the duke had first broached his plan to us. He’d explained Lady Rosemarie’s situation and her severe time constraint of having only one month to fall in love or become a nun. He’d wanted us to compete for her affection, to do everything within our power to win her love. Not only for her sake, but also for ours. He’d been firm with us, telling us we were long overdue to settle down and get married.
And yet we were the closest of companions, and on the trip to Ashby had discussed how uncomfortable we felt competing with each other for the affection of a woman. In fact, when the duke had informed us of the contest to court Lady Rosemarie, I’d already had trepidation about the entire idea. A contest was a frivolous way to find a wife. If I must settle down, I’d much prefer the more traditional way — having the duke make an arrangement for me.
Despite our reservations, our leader had brought us to his goddaughter. And when Lady Rosemarie had stepped outside that first day, with her golden curls streaming past her waist and the loveliness of her smile, it had been easy to set aside our reservations. After a few slaps on the back, we’d resolved to keep the contest friendly and civil.
I’d agreed to go along with the duke’s plans, but not because of her outer beauty; rather because I’d witnessed her consideration toward the tortured criminals in the market. She’d shown kindness when no one else had. I had been unable to stop admiring her, even though I tried.
And now I was frustrated by my conflicted desires. On the one hand, I wished my fearless leader hadn’t pushed me into the frivolous contest. But now, after meeting her, my heart and actions betrayed me. I couldn’t deny that I hoped I’d have the chance to get to know her better this month.
After what felt like an eternity, the abbot finally reached the front of the Great Hall, only feet away from me and my two companions. “Your ladyship,” he said, giving Lady Rosemarie a small bow of respect. “I’ve talked with the sheriff, and he offers his pardon for disturbing you.”
I studied the sheriff. Even from across the chasm of the room, it was clear from the sheriff’s scowl and stiff shoulders that he was still angry. Did he recognize me as the knight who’d accosted him in his home? My helmet and armor had concealed me, mostly. But the sheriff was staring back at me, as though he’d guessed I was the one.
“If you give him your gracious pardon,” continued the abbot, “he’s agreed to leave peaceably without pressing charges against any of the knights.”
“Perhaps I should speak with the sheriff myself,” Lady Rosemarie offered.
The abbot leaned in and lowered his voice, but even so his words still carried to me. “His pride is wounded, your ladyship. And ’twould not do to harm it further.”
The conflict raging across Lady Rosemarie’s face gave way to resignation. “Very well. Send him on his way. But tell him I don’t wish to see him in my court again anytime soon.”
I wanted to urge her to question the sheriff further. The man had an attitude of rebellion that didn’t bode well. But I held my tongue. Clearly, Lady Rosemarie was young and inexperienced as a ruler. She still had much to learn, and it wasn’t my job to teach her.
When the guards urged the sheriff to turn and leave, the man’s gaze clashed with mine one last time. My pulse sped and I gripped the hilt of my sword. I didn’t know much about the sheriff, but from the derision in his eyes, I could tell I’d already made an enemy.
Once the sheriff was gone, the abbot spoke to Lady Rosemarie. “Word has reached me regarding your decision to participate in the duke’s courtship plans.”
“And are you agreeable?” She watched the abbot expectantly.
His face remained placid, but his eyes brimmed with concern. “I just hope that you’re not setting yourself up for heartache, my lady.”
Indecision rippled across Lady Rosemarie’s face.
“I shall support whatever you decide to do, my child,” he continued, “but I’m concerned that after experiencing such revelry for a month, you may find it more difficult to enter the convent and be content there.”
“I’m concerned about that too,” she admitted. Her gaze slid to the three of us. I had to keep myself from sighing at her indecisiveness. Something in my expression must have caught her attention, for she looked at me a second longer than at the others as though I’d spoken my chastisement aloud.
“It is a risk,” the duke said
from beside her, his expression turning grave. “But is it a risk you’re willing to take?”
She didn’t respond right away. And I found my muscles tightening at the thought of her saying no, even though I knew I should feel relieved instead.
“My other concern,” the abbot said, his forehead furrowing so that his tonsure dipped near his thin eyebrows, “is that I would not want the duke’s men to unduly tempt your ladyship. You’re pure and undefiled, and I only want to make certain you remain that way —”
A growl of protest rose in my chest, and before I could stop myself I stepped forward. “Your words insult Lady Rosemarie. She would never dishonor herself. And we would never seek to harm her, only to honor her in every way possible.”
Even as the words left my lips, I thought back to the moments earlier in the day when I’d been alone with her, how beautiful she’d been. Was it possible we could unintentionally harm Lady Rosemarie with our affection and desires? My gut cinched. God forbid it.
My companion laid a steadying hand upon my arm, silently urging me to use caution.
The duke nodded at me and then turned to the abbot. “I understand your concerns, Father Abbot. My knights are but men, at the prime of their youth. They’ve been denied the pleasure of a woman’s company for too long.”
Lady Rosemarie’s eyes widened at the duke’s admission and a rosy hue colored her cheeks. I fastened my attention on the abbot, unwilling to let Lady Rosemarie know just how true the duke’s statement was. Although I was reluctant to leave behind my warring ways, I couldn’t deny my need to experience the love of a woman or the draw I’d felt toward Lady Rosemarie. And yet, was my attraction toward her special, or would I find myself drawn to anyone at this point in my life?
“Nevertheless,” continued the duke, “I’ll be overseeing all the events and outings, the dance and the jousting tournament. I’ll make certain Lady Rosemarie is chaperoned at all times when she’s with my men. We’ll do our utmost to cherish and protect her purity.”