The Black Knight’s Captive

by Markland, Anna

  Caedmon raised an eyebrow at the revelation, then related the tale of Agneta rescuing him after he fell at the Battle of Alnwick, stressing he knew as soon as he set eyes on her she was the one he wanted.

  Aidan and Blythe exchanged curious glances across the table.

  After a while, Caedmon stifled a yawn. He leaned towards Aidan. “Come, this old man is tired. I can’t keep up with you young people any more. Let’s retire and enjoy the count’s hospitality. I’m for bed.”

  “But Father, I thought I would—”

  Blythe could have sworn her father winked at Aidan. Her brother abruptly changed his mind.

  “You’re right. I’m tired. Goodnight, Blythe. Count.”

  Caedmon kissed Blythe’s forehead. “Goodnight, my lovely girl, I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too, Father.”

  Silence reigned in the room after they left. Blythe twiddled her thumbs nervously. Her hands did not want to be still. She could feel Dieter’s eyes on her. “You and my father got along well this evening. I assume you settled on a mutually agreeable ransom for me?”

  “I demanded no ransom, Blythe. That’s not why I asked your father to come for you.”

  She looked up from her fidgeting and stared at him. “Why then?”

  He came to his feet and moved to stand behind her. He didn’t touch her, but she felt the warmth of his body. “Because I realized I couldn’t keep you here any longer, no matter how much I wanted to. If I did, you would loathe me more than you do now, and I would find that hard to bear. I knew I had to let you go.”

  Was he saying what she thought he was saying? “I don’t hate you, Dieter. I’ve tried, and find I can’t.”

  He moved to stand at her side, took hold of her hands and pulled her to her feet. “I wouldn’t blame you for hating me. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you and your family. I couldn’t help myself. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.”

  The warmth of his hands travelled into her belly and warred with the chills running up and down her spine. “You want me? For what?”

  He put his hands on her waist and drew her to his body. “For my wife, Blythe. I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment we met. I’ve denied it, but I can’t stand the thought of your leaving here. My life will be empty without you.”

  She felt the hard evidence of his passion pressed against her and wetness pooled in her most intimate place. Her nipples tingled. Words rushed out of her mouth. “But how can you love me? I’ve been cold and rude. I was afraid to fall in love with you and pretended to be aloof. If you knew how many times I itched to put my hands on your body and explore every part of you. I’ve longed to comb my fingers through your beautiful hair, to feel your hands on my body. Dieter, ich liebe dich! I love you so much I would die if I had to remain here and not—”

  His deep, passionate kiss stole away her words. His tongue delved into her mouth and she suckled like a babe. The sensation sent heat surging from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

  He tore his mouth from hers. Panting, he took her hand and placed it on the side of his face. “Touch me, Blythe. I’ve longed for you to caress me. I want to make you my wife in every possible way.”

  Before she could respond, he put a fingertip to her lips. “I must tell you something before you make your decision.”

  She had an urge to suck his finger into her mouth, but he looked worried. “What is it?”

  “I told you I have a son.”

  She’d forgotten. “Yes, a son.”

  He went down on one knee, but never took his eyes from her face. “You know I am a widower, Blythe. My son’s name is Johann. You need to accept he is my heir.”

  Her heart went out to the child she had never met. Her mother and father had always been an important part of her life. She could not imagine growing up without a mother. “Oh, Dieter, to be a motherless child. How will he feel about me?”

  He came to his feet. “I might have known your first thought would not be for yourself, but for my child. I love you Blythe Lacey FitzRam. Johann will love you too. Please accept my proposal of marriage.”

  Her body burned for him. Was this really happening? “Yes, I accept, but my father might object.”

  He hugged her tightly. “I’ve spoken to your father. I don’t foresee a problem.”

  She laughed. “I wondered why you two were so amicable this evening. You rogue!”

  He crushed her to his body, raking his fingers through her hair. “Ja, I’m a rogue who carried you away, but you stole my heart with your ugly braids and sullen pouts. I didn’t know you spoke much German, and yet you tell me you love me in my language.”

  “Dieter, I’m on fire for you. You’ve awakened feelings in me I’ve never experienced before. My body aches for you.”

  He kissed her again. “You’re a passionate woman, mein Schatz. I hope I’ll be able to satisfy your needs.” He flashed his enigmatic smile and rocked his hips against her. “As you can probably tell, I would like to do that very thing right now, but I must force myself to wait until we’re married. I’ll speak to Archbishop Frederick on the morrow.”

  Seeking Permission

  When he and Aidan arrived in the dining room the next morning, Caedmon wasn’t surprised to see his host stand to attention, his shoulders rigid. Blythe’s fierce blush confirmed what he suspected. Dieter was about to ask permission for their marriage. “Good morning,” he chirped, bending to kiss his daughter.

  “Good morning, Papa, and Aidan,” she replied as her brother kissed her other cheek.

  “Good morning, sir,” Dieter said, bowing respectfully. “I trust you both slept well.”

  “I did,” Caedmon confirmed as he sat.

  Aidan pouted. “I didn’t.”

  Dieter remained standing, his back ramrod straight.

  Caedmon chuckled inwardly. He supposed most fathers wondered how they would react on the day a man asked for the hand of a beloved daughter. He’d always hoped Blythe would find a husband who loved her dearly. The kidnapping and confinement seemed to have ruined her chances—a prospect that had broken his heart. Now, he acknowledged the hand of Fate behind the journey to Germany.

  He had two daughters, but heaven only knew if the independent-minded Ragna would ever marry. It was difficult to imagine a man willing to live with her stubborn nature, and he certainly didn’t want her tied to a husband determined to tame her.

  He thought to savor this moment, given he might never have to grant permission again. He could either let the Saxon twist in the wind for a while, or get straight to the point. “Was there something you wanted to say, Count?”

  Dieter took Blythe’s hand. “Sir, I wish to marry your daughter.”

  Aidan clenched his jaw, but Caedmon put a hand on his son’s arm. “Do you love her?” he asked.

  “More than life,” he replied. “But you must also be informed I was married before, and I have a son. He is my heir.”

  “A son,” Aidan exclaimed. “It isn’t enough you kidnapped my sister and kept her against her will?”

  It took effort, but Caedmon ignored him. “I assume you are widowed?”

  Dieter nodded, his gaze suddenly fixed on the far wall. Caedmon decided this wasn’t the moment to pry into the count’s previous marriage. “And you, Blythe, my lass, do you love Dieter?”

  “With all my heart,” she said.

  “And you understand any children you bear to this man cannot inherit his title or his lands?”

  “I do.”

  Caedmon turned to his son. “Aidan, as Blythe’s twin, it’s as much your right to bless this union as mine. Before you speak, I would ask you to remember how your mother and I met.”

  Aidan frowned. “On the battlefield at Alnwick. You were wounded. She nursed you.”

  “True, but she’d seen me before.”

  Aidan folded his arms across his chest. “At her family home, Kirkthwaite Hall.”

  “And what was I doing there?”

&
nbsp; “Helping marauding Scots burn it down.”

  “So, if your mother can forgive me for destroying her home and unwittingly participating in the massacre of her family, surely your sister can forgive the circumstances that brought her to Dieter.”

  Aidan looked into Blythe’s eyes, then stood and offered his hand to Dieter. “You have my blessing.”

  “And mine,” Caedmon added. “Now, let’s eat.”

  * * *

  Dieter couldn’t recall a time he’d felt more relieved. He prided himself on his ability to control his emotions. The insurrection against the emperor had been challenging but, even in the midst of a bloody battle, he’d maintained his sang-froid.

  His disastrous marriage had left him emotionally drained and determined to never again enter into wedlock.

  Now, his heart raced, heat flooded his body while gooseflesh marched up his spine. It was as if he was being born again. Blythe’s father had willingly granted permission for their union. Her twin had given his blessing. A new and happy future lay in store for him and his motherless son. It struck him full force his determination not to remarry had selfishly deprived Johann of the chance to have a loving mother.

  “I appreciate the difficulties ahead,” he said, signaling for the servants to bring food. “Blythe will be far from her family. You will miss her.”

  She put her hand atop his. “I will miss them, but my home is here with you now.”

  Caedmon nodded, tucking into the smoked ham. “I can’t deny it’s hard for a father to let his children go out into the world, but that’s what life is all about. The important thing is that you love each other. Few married couples can say that. I’ve been blessed in my marriage and I am elated Blythe has found her soul mate.

  “I hope Aidan will be as fortunate.”

  Blythe’s brother bristled. “I have lots of time before I have to think about that.”

  Sensing Aidan was uncomfortable with the topic, Dieter asked, “I hope you will both stay for the wedding. I intend to speak to the archbishop today about arranging the ceremony as soon as possible.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Caedmon replied. “It’s important my little girl have family present at her wedding.”

  “Thank you, Papa,” Blythe replied, tears welling.

  “And I will arrange for my father to bring Johann from Wolfenberg.”

  He hoped he sounded confident about his son’s arrival, but he hadn’t seen Johann in more than a year. There was no telling how his mother’s erratic behavior might have affected him. Dieter prayed fervently he would come to love Blythe as much as he did.

  * * *

  Happiness blossomed in Blythe’s heart. Her father and her twin would be present at her wedding. She would have married Dieter with or without their permission, but their support boded well for the future. She would miss her family in England, but recognized Dieter was her destiny.

  She couldn’t deny she was nervous about Johann. She had no experience relating to little boys, though dealing with Ragna’s temperamental outbursts was something she’d learned to handle.

  Johann was destined to be Dieter’s heir, but she trusted her betrothed was an honorable man who would provide for all his children.

  She sensed his dead wife hadn’t been a good mother, again a circumstance with which she was completely unfamiliar, having grown up in the bosom of a loving family.

  Dieter spoke with confidence about his son’s arrival, but she detected a note of uncertainty in his voice. “I will love Johann as my own son,” she promised.

  Johann

  Dieter’s widowed father and a nursemaid travelled from Wolfenberg, bringing three-year-old Johann. Blythe’s apprehension about meeting him melted away; she fell in love with the miniature Dieter as soon as she saw him. The boy was understandably overwhelmed and tired after the journey. He clung to his Großvater Marius, wide-eyed as the adults greeted each other. He laughed when Vormund licked his face, swiping his sleeve across his cheek. Dieter knelt and held his arms out to his son, but it took a gentle push for him to relinquish his grandfather’s leg and go into his father’s welcoming embrace.

  Dieter fondled his son’s dark curls. “Don’t you remember me, Johann? I’m your Papa. Vormund is glad to see you too, ja?”

  Johann put his arms around Dieter’s neck and hugged his father. “Ja, Papa.”

  Blythe’s heart swelled at the love evident on Dieter’s face.

  He set Johann back on his feet and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lady Blythe Lacey FitzRam, may I present my only son, Johann Dieter Marius von Wolfenberg.”

  She wished Dieter had not made the introduction so formal. She desperately wanted the boy to like her, but he averted his eyes and shrank away.

  His father prodded him forward. “You must make a polite bow, Johann.”

  The little boy bowed, but kept his eyes averted.

  She fell to her knees and opened her arms, hoping the German words she’d practiced would come out correctly. “Kommen, Johann. Let me embrace you. We will be great friends.”

  After a furtive glance at his nodding grandfather, he obeyed. The daunting responsibility of caring for this child robbed her of breath, but she was elated to share and cherish this important part of Dieter’s life.

  She was glad her father and brother were there to meet Johann, but everyone could see the boy was becoming confused by all the new faces.

  “We’ll leave you all for a while, to get reacquainted,” her father whispered.

  Dieter and his father chuckled and Johann quickly went back to his Papa. Dieter put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Anna will take you to bathe, Johann, and then I will show you several new playthings we have for you.”

  The mention of toys elicited a grin.

  His grandfather and the nursemaid took him off to their chambers, leaving Dieter and Blythe alone.

  He took her hand and led her to the chairs by the hearth.

  “He looks just like you. I hope he comes to like me,” she said.

  “He was a little shy, but he’ll get over that and fall in love with you as I did. He will benefit from having brothers and sisters, and I intend to provide him with lots of those.”

  His lecherous grin stoked a fire that spread its heat across her skin. She was certain she must be blushing profusely.

  They sat in silence for a while before he asked, “Does it bother you he is my heir?”

  She chose her words carefully. “I’m selfish and I can’t deny I wish you hadn’t been married before, but I trust you will make sure all our children are provided for.”

  She was hesitant to ask about Johann’s mother. Dieter had never revealed anything about her, except that she was dead, but the questions had to be asked. Eventually, she plucked up her courage. “What was his mother’s name?”

  He glanced up sharply. “I know we must speak of this, Blythe. I want no secrets between us, but it is difficult to talk about. I admit I have put it off.”

  She rose then knelt at his feet, resting her head on his lap. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wish to.”

  The silence stretched between them. She felt the tension in his body as he stroked her hair. “Her name was Fredericka. She was mad.”

  Blythe raised her head abruptly and looked at him, immediately wishing she had not. Despair haunted his eyes. She gripped his hands and swallowed hard, hating to see him in such pain. “Dieter, my love. What happened to her?”

  He inhaled deeply. “She leapt into a swiftly flowing river in the throes of a manic fit. The water claimed her immediately.”

  Blythe sank her teeth into the flesh of her hand to stifle a cry of sorrow and outrage at the torment this man had endured. “Did she love Johann?”

  Dieter shrugged. “I don’t think she even knew who he was at the end.”

  Tears trickled down Blythe’s cheek. “Why did you marry her if she was mad?”

  He took her face in his hands and wiped away the tears wit
h his thumbs. “We were betrothed when we were children. No one knew then what would befall her. It was an obligation. I did not meet her until the day of our marriage and I sensed something was wrong, but it was my duty. If I’d known the extent of her madness, I would not have married her, but the die was cast once we were wed. I never loved her, Blythe. You are the only woman I have ever loved.”

  She put her hands over his. “And you are the only man I have ever loved, ever will love. Your child is my child.”

  He came to his feet and helped her rise, pulling her into his embrace. “I never expected to find a love like ours, liebling.”

  “Nor I.”

  A Wedding

  A fortnight later, Sir Caedmon FitzRam walked proudly into the Old Cathedral in Köln with his beautiful daughter on his arm. She looked radiant and his heart was filled with joyful relief that she had found a worthy partner with whom she could share love and passion. It was a great pity Agneta could not be there.

  Dieter had dispatched messengers to Saint Germain, and Robert would pass on the message by way of the regular relays the Montbryces used. Caedmon was confident it was the fastest and most secure way to get the happy news of Blythe’s betrothal and marriage to his family in England.

  He chuckled when he thought of his precocious Ragna. She would be mortified not to be present at her sister’s wedding and would ask him thousands of questions. He studied his eldest daughter, trying to memorize the details of the occasion, recognizing Aidan would be useless in this regard.

  The voluminous skirts of Blythe’s blue dress—silk if he wasn’t mistaken—edged along the hem with white fur, probably ermine, fell from a high waist. A wide sash of the same material emphasized the swell of her breasts. He noted with paternal satisfaction that she was indeed her mother’s daughter.