Rowena felt herself flush.
Christian cast her a quick and unreadable glance, even as he sketched a bow to the lady Isabelle. “Allow me to present Rowena.”
As Lady Isabelle nodded, Rowena could not help noting that Christian seemed different with this woman, more formal and courtly. He had never treated her thus.
Not that she would wish for it, she told herself quickly. She had no desire to be treated as a noble-woman. For, as her mother had told her, noblewomen were pawns in the game of passing lands back and forth between powerful houses. They were not respected for who they were in their own right.
As if his patience would only extend so far, Lord Simon prodded, “And who might Rowena be to you, Christian?”
Christian laughed huskily, and Rowena could see the brightness of his blue eyes as they met the other man’s with sadness as well as an unmistakable trace of barely leashed excitement. “You recall the knight, Sir Jack?”
The other man nodded, though a puzzled frown creased his brow as he said, “How could I forget him?” He reached to place a protective and possessive arm about his lady’s slender shoulders. “Isabelle and I owe him a great debt for his aiding us in our efforts to gain our freedom from Kelsey—a debt that can never be repaid.”
Rowena saw the sudden sheen of tears the woman blinked from her eyes as a husky-voiced Christian continued. “Sir Jack revealed something to me the night he died, a secret with such profound consequences that I could not disregard it even though I could not be certain it was true.”
“What could he possibly—” the other man began.
“He told me that The Dragon’s daughter was still alive.”
“But, dear God, how…?” Lord Simon sat heavily in his chair. “It cannot be….” He looked at Christian. “Why did you not tell us ere this?”
“I had sworn that I would not do so until I could be certain of her safety.”
“What has changed concerning that?”
Christian watched him. “There could be no safer place on earth than with myself, you or Jarrod, Simon.”
The other man nodded his dark head. “That is indeed true. Were she to be found, there could be no safer place. For any one of us would lay down our life for the daughter of The Dragon.”
Christian reached to take Rowena’s trembling hand in his. In her uncertainty over what reaction the other two might have to what he was about to reveal to them, she did not pull away as he spoke with barely leashed excitement. “I have found her.”
The man was not the only one to draw in a sharp breath of shock.
In spite of her trepidation, Rowena held her head high, for her pride was all she had to hold on to.
“Dear heaven,” Lady Isabelle whispered. “You mean…” Her wide and amazed gaze found Rowena.
Christian nodded. “I believe Rowena is indeed Rosalind of Dragonwick.”
Those lavender eyes locked on Rowena’s. The expression in them could only be taken for happiness. Rowena found herself holding her breath as the noble-woman moved toward her, her next words emerging in a voice filled with hope. “My sister!”
Rowena heard the words and felt a sense of unreality that was beyond anything she had hence known in a season of many unbelievable revelations. The very thought that she could be this elegant and perfect woman’s sister…’twas too much to bear.
The world seemed to tilt, then to spin, and helplessly Rowena reached forward, desperate for some anchor to right herself. “Sister…I…” The spinning world grew dark, and then there was only blackness.
Chapter Nine
Isabelle’s statement sent Christian’s mind reeling. Yet the sight of Rowena crumpling before his very eyes jarred him into motion, and he caught her in his arms.
Isabelle’s soft voice intruded upon his shock. “She has fainted. Quickly, bring her into the bedchamber.”
Christian followed his friend’s wife as she led him to their enormous bed, which had already been turned down in preparation for their retiring. Gently he laid Rowena’s still form upon the clean white linens.
Isabelle sighed and put her hands over her own pale cheeks. “I should not have told her in that way. I have shocked her too greatly. I was simply so…”
Simon moved to put a protective arm about her. “Nay, do not carry on so, dear one. I am certain you did surprise our guest, but it is likely that exhaustion from her journey has also affected her.”
Gently Isabelle touched Rowena’s face and Rowena stirred, sighing, but did not fully rouse. She said, “Simon is correct. She is exhausted. Let us go to the other room.”
Relieved, Christian sighed as well. He felt not only sympathy, but a deeper sense of tenderness that he could not fully understand.
Once in the outer chamber he looked to the others. “I am sure Simon is correct.” He caught and held Isabelle’s eyes. “Though I admit that I am somewhat shocked by the news myself. How could you and The Dragon’s daughter be…”
Simon arched black brows as if to ask his wife how she would deal with this.
She shrugged. “I shall tell it. I do not mind so very much. I realize I am glad to have it known no matter how painful. For it means that others will know that my upbringing with Kelsey may have scarred me but—” her voice broke for a moment, yet she recovered quickly “—his blood has not tainted me.”
Christian could not help seeing that, in spite of everything, a part of Isabelle still loved Kelsey. After all, he had reared her, no matter that he had been a cruel and unloving parent.
Isabelle went on. “When last I saw my father at court, directly after he had bidden King John to put Simon to death for the supposed wrongs he had done him, Kelsey was so angry at my support of Simon that he revealed that I was not his true daughter. He said that my mother had been with child when she had wed him, and she had named The Dragon as the father. Thus the man I loved and revered so greatly was not the uncle I thought him, but something much greater.” There was a catch of pride and happiness in her voice.
Even as he felt awed and moved by her tale, Christian could not help but be aware of the difference between her and Rowena. Rowena, who had known none of the privileges of her rank, was shamed at the thought of being a bastard. Isabelle, who had known naught but privilege and wealth, was secretly and genuinely pleased to learn that she had been conceived thus, if it meant The Dragon was her father.
Would that Rowena could be brought to feel so.
He was not left to consider this for more than a moment, for Simon said, “Tell us of the young woman and how you came to find her.”
Without hesitation Christian did so, beginning with the night Sir Jack had died, and ending with their arrival at Avington. The only things he left out were the intimate exchanges that had taken place between him and Rowena.
Simon’s voice drew him from his thoughts. “It is all quite incredible, Christian.” He sighed. “No one would wish for this to be true more than me, or Isabelle, as you can see.”
She nodded, her lavender eyes filled with longing. “It would mean that I do have some family.”
“But,” continued Simon, “there is definitely a problem here. Rowena remembers nothing. She may not be The Dragon’s daughter.”
Christian scowled, even as he met his friend’s gaze. “Rowena is. I am certain of it. As certain as I have ever been of anything in my entire life.”
Simon held his gaze. “You said yourself she is not sure she is the one.”
“He is right.” Rowena’s voice came from the open doorway of the bedchamber.
Christian’s scowl deepened as he looked at her, saw the way she leaned weakly against the jamb. Quickly she righted herself when she saw him watching, coming forward with her head high. “Forgive me for fainting that way. It has never happened before.”
Simon motioned to the chair he had been sitting in when they arrived. “Pray sit. You are still unwell.”
Though Christian could tell she did not wish to admit to any weakness, Rowena sank dow
n upon the chair. She lost no time in meeting Simon’s gaze. “I agree with you, my lord. I have no proof that I am the woman Christian sought. Although he was able to convince me that there could be more than coincidence in our circumstances, I am far from certain.”
Christian spoke with more irritation than he meant to. “Why must you continue to fight me?” He was instantly sorry when he saw the way Rowena stiffened.
Into the uncomfortable silence that followed, Isabelle said, “I for one find the fact that Rowena is so willing to voice her own uncertainty a good sign.” Her lavender eyes ran over Rowena with obvious approval. “Many young women in her position would leap at such an opportunity. And there is no denying that she has my un—my father’s red hair.”
Rowena sighed. “I realize that learning I am the one would mean a great deal to all of you.” She looked to Isabelle. “Christian has told me what a fine man your father was and I wanted to believe…But now that I am here it all seems so impossible. Many people have red hair, especially where I come from. Neither any of you, nor I, can allow wishful thinking to make us see what is not there.”
Simon replied with calm reason, though he studied Christian closely. “It is quite unlike you to be so hot-headed, Christian. I agree with Rowena. Much as I would love to see that bastard brought low by taking back what is rightfully Rosalind’s, we must go carefully here. None more than Isabelle and I know what power Kelsey wields with King John, even to this day.”
Christian chafed under this reminder, even while he realized that he had been far more apt to rush headlong in his thoughts and actions since finding Rowena. Yet did not the circumstances warrant it?
Rowena distracted him by saying in a troubled voice, “Christian has told me little of your difficulties with the English crown.”
He listened as Simon explained in concise terms how he and Isabelle had been forced to marry by royal command after Kelsey had falsely informed the king that they were plotting against the crown. “In that and in other matters Christian has ever been the one to think matters through to their best purpose. Were it not for his bringing two very powerful men to court to speak on my behalf, when Kelsey denounced me to the king for the second time, Isabelle would now be a widow, our coming child doomed to his cruel and emotionless teachings.” He put his hand on his wife’s slender shoulder.
Isabelle reached out to cover his hand with hers. “I would not have allowed it, love. I would have found some way of escape.”
Rowena could see that their love for one another was strong and it raised in her a longing for…for what? She found her attention becoming fixed on Christian.
Giving herself a mental shake, she said, “I would never place others at further risk on my behalf.”
Christian scowled deeply.
It was Simon who answered her. “We will not invite trouble where none is offered. But if you are The Dragon’s daughter, I for one am willing to do what must be done to set this matter right. I simply urge that we be as certain as we can be before acting, although I do believe that what Christian has told us is compelling in spite of your lack of memory. Rosalind was not even four when she…when we thought she was killed. If you are she, we will do what we must to see you in your rightful position. If Kelsey somehow manages to discredit you, you will always have a place here with Isabelle and me.”
Rowena turned to Christian, knowing her gaze was accusing. “You have not told them.”
He cast her a look of exasperation. “There has not yet been time.” He turned to Simon and Isabelle. “Rowena’s mother—the nurse, as I believe her to be—has schooled Rowena very thoroughly in the notion that nobles care for little beyond their lands and titles. That they are willing to die for such things without regard to their families. She has no wish to live amongst us, but came only to learn what she could of her father.”
“That notion is utterly false,” Simon stated with some heat.
It was Isabelle who nodded and spoke with calm and patience. “I know full well how difficult it can be to overcome the teachings of a misguided parent. We shall simply allow Rowena to get to know us.”
Rowena shrugged, facing them directly. “Forgive me, my lord, but if I have heard correctly, you and Lady Isabelle’s difficulties could have been avoided if you had not been bent on revenge against this Lord Kelsey.”
Simon, Earl of Avington, frowned darkly. “That is—”
Isabelle interrupted him gently to address Rowena. “Simon had nothing to gain from his efforts against Lord Kelsey. He but sought to right a wrong. I for one cannot say that I regret his action. If he had simply forgotten his duty to The Dragon we would never have met.” Those lavender eyes became speculative. “Rowena, do you not believe that not only honor but fate must sometimes be served, no matter what we mortals might intend in our lives?”
Rowena shook her head quickly. “Nay, I will not believe in fate. For if it exists it has doomed me to the regret of never knowing the love of my father, and doomed my mother to the pain of her loneliness. I will not be bound to the past. I simply wish to learn what I can and go forward with my own life as I choose.”
She saw the sadness in Lady Isabelle’s eyes, but knew she would not withdraw a word she had said.
She carefully avoided meeting Christian’s gaze.
Isabelle replied carefully, “Then we will do our utmost to accept your wishes.” She moved to Rowena’s side. “In the meantime, I would offer you a bed and rest. For I think it is what you need now, most of all.”
Blinking back tears at this kindness, Rowena followed her to the door that led back out into the corridor. She felt Christian’s eyes upon her as she left, but made no move to acknowledge him.
For what was there to say?
If he had made some other reply, perhaps, when she’d challenged him as to his intentions toward her…But he had not. She did not really want anything from him. What she wanted most was to go home, as she had told them.
Her life, all she knew, was in Ashcroft. Simply being here, meeting Isabelle and Simon, made her all the more certain of just where she belonged.
She was a simple woman, accustomed to a simple life. Never would she feel comfortable living in such a place as this keep, surrounded by luxury, with all these folk to wait upon her.
Only the possibility of discovering who her father was kept her from begging to return home this very night.
Rowena looked at the pile of gowns upon the bed with a frown. She met Isabelle’s gaze even as she began to shake her head. “I could not possibly—”
Isabelle interrupted her. “You could and will. I have too many gowns. You have only the one you are wearing.”
“But I would not accept char—”
“I mean to offer none. My…father saw to it that I was more than adequately dressed in my life at Dragonwick. I shall never be able to justify having another gown made in my lifetime unless I find some use for some of those I already possess.”
Rowena’s longing gaze slid over the pile of rich fabrics, lingering on a velvet of so deep a green that she had not known it existed outside the most shadowy depths of a forest.
Again she looked to Isabelle, who stood watching her with obvious forbearance.
As if seeing that Rowena was wavering, she added, “Do you not see that you must have clean garments?” She waved a hand toward the pile on the bed. “These are what I have to offer, lest you would have me call my women to fashion new ones for you.”
Rowena ran a hand over the rough wool of her own gown. It was not clean and had not been for some days. But she had never realized how poor the quality of cloth was until now, having never even seen fabrics of the kind laid out before her.
Was she being churlish to resist so? She sighed. “I…you are far too generous. Thank you, Lady Isabelle.”
“Isabelle,” the other woman replied.
“Isabelle.”
The raven-haired beauty smiled and nodded. “I will leave you to dress, then. I am certain the gowns will
need no alteration.” She cast assessing eyes over Rowena as she ended confidently, “We are of a size.”
Rowena could not help knowing that she took this as some indication that they might indeed be sisters. She realized that both of them were tall for women, but refused to put any undue significance on the fact. She said only, “We are.”
Isabelle smiled with quiet pleasure. “Martha will come to assist you.”
“Oh, nay, please, I would not have anyone bother—”
“’Tis no bother to anyone, Rowena. The servants here are happy in their duties. You will not be able to do up some of the lacings yourself.”
There was nothing to do but nod in acquiescence as the other woman moved toward the door with obvious relief. “I will see you in the hall shortly.”
Again Rowena nodded.
Isabelle paused in the doorway. “I am so very pleased that you have come.”
Even as Isabelle exited the chamber, Rowena could not help feeling that her welcome here at Avington, the clothing, Isabelle and Simon’s kindness, were all being accepted under false pretences. How would they all, including Christian, feel if they came to believe she was not Rosalind?
Would their attitudes change? How could they not?
Rowena could not allow herself to let down her guard, to actually believe she was Rosalind, that she had had a father who had doted upon her, loved her. She could not bear the way she would feel to see the inevitable change in their attitudes toward her.
In her attitude about herself. She would be doubly devastated to go back to being the unwanted bastard child who had been so easily cast away.
Martha arrived to help her lace up a pale yellow gown, the simplest of those Isabelle had given her, but of a finer wool than Rowena had ever imagined. When she was finished, having arranged Rowena’s hair into an intricate braid threaded through with matching yellow ribbons, she informed her that Isabelle welcomed her company if she would attend her in the hall.
Feeling self-conscious, Rowena went to join the other woman, who smiled widely, telling her, “You are indeed lovely.”
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