A Knight's Duty (The Knights of Honor Trilogy, Book 2)

by Dana D'Angelo

  She hugged her arms to her chest. “I have no intentions of letting anything occur between us,” she said, her voice frigid.

  “Then you have nothing to fear, my lady.” He lifted both hands and laced them beneath his head. And then letting out another loud yawn, he declared, “I’m tired. After all the excitement of avoiding surprise attacks all day, I think I deserve to sleep on this comfortable bed tonight.”

  Amelie could feel the tension rising to her shoulders. “But — but ‘tis improper!”

  “The fact that you’re even in this village without your chaperone is improper,” he reminded her. “You could have sent one of your men to speak with the inn keeper, but nay, you put yourself in harm’s way by coming here yourself. I tell you yet again that had I not come along —”

  “Oh,” she said, her tone sarcastic. “You think of yourself as my savior.”

  “You can say that I am.”

  An unladylike snort escaped her. “As I said before, I think you are the one who brought trouble to me in the first place.”

  “That is very well possible.” He shifted a leg and tried to fit himself more comfortably on the small bed. “However ‘tis highly unlikely.”

  Amelie inched closer to her side of the mattress, and would have fallen off if the wall wasn’t there to prevent it. “If you recall,” she said, speaking to the wall. “I did not initially ask for your help. You insisted on coming with me, and any injury you sustained in the process is your fault.” She blinked, trying to get the image of his face out of her head, trying in vain to forget how it felt to be in his sturdy arms, to have her soft body pressed up against his hard one. But it was impossible; she could feel the heat coming off of him despite the gap that existed between them.

  His hand rested on her shoulder, startling her momentarily although she didn’t pull away. With a gentle pressure, he turned her over to face him.

  “I think you’re scared,” he said, his voice low and rumbling. His gaze softened, dropping ever so slightly to her lips, before he raised them again to peer into her eyes. “Perhaps ‘tis I that you’re afraid of, Amelie?”

  “I am not afraid of anyone, especially not you.”

  “Ah, I can see that you’re not being truthful with me.” He paused. “Amelie, I am not the one out to hurt you. Didn’t I agree to help you find your father? That is what you want, isn’t?”

  She blinked at his words. He sounded so sincere, and she found that she really wanted to believe him. When her father first disappeared, she ordered the garrison commander to search for him, which he eventually complied. However no one offered to help find Lord Stanbury out of his own free will. Perhaps Derrik wasn’t as irksome as she had believed him to be. At least she was convinced that he wasn’t out to harm her. Yet there was still some niggling instinct that prevented her from fully trusting him. And with all the things that had occurred, she had no energy to delve too much into the nagging doubts that flitted through her mind. For the time being, it was best and less complicated to keep him at an arm’s length.

  “You’re looking quite serious,” he said, reaching over and allowing his fingers to caress her cheek. “What are you thinking about now?”

  “Nothing,” she lied.

  “Again, I find that I don’t believe you.” He dropped his hand to the mattress. “’Tis unfortunate how we met. Perhaps if we were acquainted at another time and circumstance, things would have been different between us.”

  “Our paths never would have crossed,” she countered.

  “’Tis possible,” he said, his lips twisting thoughtfully. “I rarely come across a complicated woman like you. I admit that although I don’t agree with some of the things you do, I still admire your many qualities, your courage being one of them.”

  She looked at him, startled by his revelation. “No one has ever told me that I am courageous.”

  “No one?” he scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.” His brows drew together and he looked at her curiously. “Tell me, why are you still unmarried?”

  “Perhaps I do not want to be married.”

  “Every maiden of my acquaintance desires to be married. I don’t think you would be any different.”

  She lowered her lashes, afraid that he would see the truth in her eyes.

  “Have I struck a sensitive area?” He put a finger under chin and lifted it up so that their eyes met.

  “Some men are intimidated by a woman of strength,” she admitted with some reluctance. “They seem to prefer maidens who are meek and abiding.”

  “I gather that you’re none of these things.”

  She gave him a tight smile. “My father was often away and my mother frequently ill, so I had to manage the castle affairs. However it was only in the past year that I have had full management of the stronghold,” she shrugged. “You will find that a woman of power cannot be easily pushed aside and told what to do.”

  “Interesting. A woman who enjoys wielding influence over hundreds of people,” he said, stroking thoughtfully at his chin. “Most women prefer to leave the affairs of the castle to the men.”

  “I had no choice,” she said, looking down and feeling a flush creep up her cheeks. “I have acted in this capacity since I turned twelve years old, and whenever my mother was unwell, which was often. Although, the responsibilities were much less back then.”

  “What did your father say to this?”

  “Nothing. Even then, he traveled for the better part of the year, visiting his many estates. I believe that he is not as interested in Stanbury as I am.”

  “That is quite a burden for one so young,” he said, his deep voice rumbling in the small room. She was taken aback by the censure she heard in his voice. No one had ever asked her about the run of the castle, and even she was surprised about how much she revealed to Derrik. She shook her head, trying to fend off whatever spell he was trying to weave around her.

  The candle on the small table cast long shadows along the walls. She began to pick at the lint on the woolen blanket as the silence stretched between them.

  “You never did answer my question, Amelie,” he said, finally breaking the stillness. “Why is it so important for you to prove your father’s innocence?”

  Her eyes traveled over his face, while her brows knitted together in confusion. “Why would I not want to prove his innocence? Even though I do not see him as often as I like, I still love him. And I know that he loves me,” her voiced betrayed a slight crack at the end. She shifted her gaze to the rafters as the old memories unfolded before her eyes. “I am told that my parents were content when I was born, but after they tried multiple times to produce a son and their attempts failed in miscarriages, that happiness faded. My sire found more and more excuses to stay away from Stanbury.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and her heart constricted. “I wondered perhaps he went away because he could not stand to see me, and be constantly reminded that he had only one child — a child of the weaker sex.”

  Derrik folded his warm hand over hers and squeezed it reassuringly. “’Tis unlikely that you’re to blame,” he said gently.

  Amelie blinked rapidly to stem her tears and looked down at her hand encased in his. She cleared the uncomfortable lump in her throat. “So that is why ‘tis so important for me to find the truth. I know in my heart that my father is not involved in this treasonous plot. And I will find the truth, even if ‘tis at the risk of my own life.”

  “That is probably not necessary.”

  “Forgive me,” she said, sniffing and suddenly embarrassed at her emotional outpouring. “I am not usually like this.” She pulled her hand away from his and wiped at a tear that fell from the corner of her eye. “I do not know what is wrong with me.”

  “I’m told that my charm cause people to speak freely,” he said, smiling, his voice light.

  In an effort to change the topic, her attention dropped to his mouth. But she felt a fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

  “What happened here?” she whispere
d. Urged by some innate curiosity, her hand lifted and with one finger, she traced the scar at the side of his sensual mouth. Her finger followed the scar line and lightly grazed his bottom lip.

  “I don’t think that is wise, my lady,” he said, catching a hold of her hand.

  Her gaze flew to his and she found him watching her, his eyelids hooded.

  “I am merely a man, and can only take so much temptation,” he continued softly.

  Her lips parted to form an O, but he shifted his body and rolled over to his side. Amelie stared at his back, wondering what had just occurred. She wasn’t aware of what she was doing until Derrik stopped her hand. All she knew was that this sensation left her feeling bemused. Never had she felt such a desire to kiss a man. And never had she felt so inquisitive about what happened after the kiss. She was not so ignorant as to know that a kiss led to something more. Yet even though she was aware of the danger, a part of her was still curious, still insistent in discovering what that something was.

  After a time, Amelie heard his deep, even breathing. The man slept as if he had no cares in the world.

  She let out a small sigh and turned to her side with her back facing his.

  The soft light from the candle still glowed and illuminated the ugly, chipping paint on the wall. Off in the distance, she heard a lone wolf howl and she shivered, although it wasn’t from fright. She was safe from harm in this little room. Instinctively she knew that Derrik would protect her from any danger that might lurk in the night. But she also knew that there was no one to protect her from Derrik, and the feelings that he invoked in her. Her entire body felt tense with the awareness that he slept only inches away from her. If truth be told, she liked the comfort of having him near, of the intimacy that they shared. But at the same time, the closeness scared her. She had spent her entire life relying upon herself, and having others depend on her as well. And all that time, she made it a point not to open her heart to too many people. However her one rule was about to be broken; she was starting to care for Derrik.

  But this caring wasn’t a feeling that she wanted or needed right now. Derrik’s job was to apprehend her father, and bring him before the king. He had no feelings for her. If she was smart, she wouldn’t fall for his easy charm. And above all else, she shouldn’t, under any circumstances, allow herself to fall in love with the handsome knight.

  Chapter 19

  The sound of a door closing pierced into her consciousness. Amelie brought a hand to her eyes, wanting to keep them closed. Off in the distance, she could hear the busy chatter of birds, interspersed with the heavy clopping sounds of horse hooves and rickety carts. Dogs barked, children laughed. She smelled freshly baked bread in the air, and someone, somewhere was frying fish.

  She let out a loud groan. It had taken her hours to fall asleep, and she spent most of the night tossing, turning, and wrestling with impossible questions. And then finally, when she exhausted herself from her internal war, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  The floor creaked as if someone walked toward her, and she ceased her movements. Slowly taking her hand away from her face, she opened one eye and then promptly closed it again, the morning sun nearly blinding her.

  Trying again, she opened both eyes and blinked rapidly several times in order to get her bearings, to understand why the noises she heard seemed excessive and loud, and the scents overwhelming and strong.

  “How did morning arrive so soon?” she murmured, sleepily scanning the small, room. The first thing that caught her attention was the worn furniture that looked as if it needed repairing. She went to push a strand of hair from her face when her hand stopped in mid-motion. Suddenly full realization hit her. This was not her bedchamber at Stanbury Castle. Sitting up abruptly, she rubbed her eyes. “Where am I?”

  “The Fox Trail Inn,” a male voice answered.

  Amelie spun her head around at the direction of the voice, and saw Derrik grinning at her a foot away from the bed.

  His cheerful disposition caused her mood to blacken. She didn’t know what he was so happy about. Her back was sore from sleeping on the hard straw mattress, and even though a linen sheet and a wool blanket covered it, she could still feel the prickly lumps underneath.

  His eyes wandered over her as if she lay naked on the bed.

  “What are you staring at?” she demanded, pulling the woolen blanket out from under her and wrapping it around her body. The rough blanket felt slightly cool to her skin.

  “My, that was not quite the greeting that I hoped for,” Derrik said, his voice slightly sardonic. “I think I prefer it when you were asleep.”

  Amelie pursed her lips. “I did not sleep very well,” she said, her voice low and cranky. “This bed is decidedly uncomfortable. The inn keeper should be hanged for offering such a poorly stuffed mattress to paying customers.”

  “I had no problems sleeping,” he said, shrugging. “In fact, I found it exceedingly comfortable. I especially enjoyed the knowledge that I could sleep soundly without having to worry about wild animals roaming about and looking to devour me.” He tossed her a piece of bread. “Perhaps if you eat something, your temperament might improve.”

  She caught the bread before it fell onto her lap, his thoughtfulness momentarily silencing her. The steam came off the coarse barley bread as she broke off a piece. She blew at the hot item before stuffing it into her mouth.

  A satisfied grin spread across his lips as he watched her eat. “I was actually surprised by your — er — disposition this morning. You seemed like you were in a deep sleep, and I assumed that you would wake up feeling rested.” His tone then dropped suggestively. “I dare say that you looked quite peaceful, and I thought ‘twas me that you dreamt about.”

  She pulled the blanket tighter around her. “You are the last person I would care to dream about,” she said, chewing the bread carefully, and trying her best to curtail the blush that rose to her cheeks.

  While it was true that she didn’t dream about Derrik, she refused to admit to him that he was on her mind for most of the night. It disturbed her greatly that she wasn’t preoccupied with further thoughts of her father’s welfare. Fortunately it was just before Amelie fell asleep that she resolved not to be affected by Derrik’s allure. He was too appealing by far, and likely used his sinful charm to manipulate her. Like a simpleton, she had fallen for his trickery. However, she was wise to his game now.

  Derrik turned and moved toward the small table, placing the same sack that he had carried last night on the wooden surface.

  She eyed the bag with interest. “Where did you go?” she asked, trying to sound conversational. Glancing down at his boots, she noted the mud on them. “You seem to have been up for quite a while.”

  He followed the direction of her eyes. “I had to use the bucket,” he said, shrugging.

  “Is there no chamber pot in here?” she said, undecided whether she should believe his simple explanation or not.

  “I don’t know.” He raised his hands in the air and he yawned. “If there is one here, I couldn’t find it.”

  She studied him as a nagging, suspicious doubt crept in her mind. When she felt the blanket earlier, it was cool to the touch. That would indicate that he hadn’t slept on his side of the bed for several hours. Her calculating mind began to wonder how long it actually took for him to reach the bucket and return to the room. Once again she glanced at the sack on the table. That little bag sat on the table when Derrik had left her in the room last night, although it never occurred to her to take a look inside it. But now her curiosity was roused. Why was he walking around, carrying this bag? A trek to the bucket didn’t require a person to take their belongings with them, did it? And then there was the tiniest pause before he responded to her observation. What was Derrik hiding from her?

  “I am not certain if I believe you,” she said, finishing the last of the bread and brushing away the crumbs from her lap. “But I am suffering from a lack of sleep, and this may be the reason why I am
more suspicious than usual.”

  “Well, thank you for your consideration, my lady,” he said, giving her a mocking bow. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  “I fail to see why you are in such a good mood,” she said, giving him a slanted look. “There is something serious afoot, and makings jests will not help us resolve the problems.”

  Amelie glanced over to the small window in the room. Threads of golden light penetrated through the tiny cracks in the shutters, causing the dust in the air to dance. Derrik walked over toward the window. Grabbing the stool that had fallen over the night before, he placed it upright.

  “I hope that you’re not planning to spend all day in bed. Because if you are,” he winked at her, “perhaps I should join you.”

  She scrambled off the bed and watched him warily. “Nay, I am up,” she said quickly.

  “Are you ready to go to the stables now?” he asked.

  When he mentioned the stables, a sudden doubt rolled over her. “What if speaking to the stable boy yields no results?” she asked, unable to stamp out the fear in her voice.

  “The inn keeper has already assured us that the boy witnessed the quarrel. We will hear what he has to say and then form a judgment. As of right now, ‘tis too soon for us to tell.” He arched a brow at her when she didn’t move right away. “Well, are you ready?” he asked.

  Amelie took in a deep breath. “Before we go, I need to know something.”

  Derrik regarded her silently, waiting for her to speak.

  She hesitated and then asked the one question that was foremost on her mind. “Will you promise me that if we find my father, you will not arrest him?”

  He looked taken aback by her direct question. “I told you that I’ll help find your father,” he said, his tone cautious. “However I cannot promise you that I won’t arrest him. As you know, he must stand trial before the king.”

  “But my father is innocent of the charges against him,” she said helplessly.