Ava picked up a corner of her apron and began to twist it in her hands. “Sir Jonathan?” she said hesitantly.
Jonathan looked down at the older woman, remembering who he was speaking to. “I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind,” he said, apologizing. “What did you say?”
The nursemaid allowed her apron to drop. She straightened her back. “I’ll have you know that Lady Rowena is a worthy woman,” she said. “I have raised her myself. Any man who wins her heart will be pleased with what she has to offer.”
“I’m sure any man would be well pleased,” he said, his eyes once again drawn to the dark haired beauty who at the moment was circling merrily with the other dancers. She was more than worthy, he thought. She was exquisite. But she wasn’t for him.
Bidding farewell to Ava, he turned his back to Rowena and the dancers, and walked away.
CHAPTER 11
It wasn’t too long after Jonathan stopped watching the dancers when a servant arrived with a summons from his father, ordering him to return to Blackburn castle.
Jonathan played with the parchment, spinning the message between his fingers.
He debated whether to ignore the summons, although truthfully he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Now that Richard had taken ill, it added another level of complexity, which would no doubt cause further delays and more wasted time at Blackburn. Still, the Grey Knight hadn’t shown himself as of yet, and Jonathan supposed that he had some time to help Richard with his affairs.
The festivities, he knew, would continue straight into the night and even if he left now, he would not be missed.
He looked over at Rowena with regret. A part of him wanted to see her and bid her farewell before he left for Blackburn, while another part of him warned him to leave things well alone — he didn’t need a woman to further complicate things. He chose to listen to his logical side and resolutely made his way out of the hall. But then he saw Rowena approach her nursemaid, saying a few words to her before exiting from the great hall. All inner warnings fell to the wayside, and he followed her out to the courtyard. And it just happened that she was heading toward the stables, where he intended to go in the first place.
A few minutes later, Jonathan ducked into the stables, and when he saw her, he sucked in a breath, her beauty striking him as if it was a physical blow.
She was stroking the nose of her brown palfrey, murmuring to it, immersed in her one-sided conversation. She looked like a mystical wood fairy sent to tempt and torture him at the same time. An overwhelming urge engulfed him, making him want to go to her, to capture her lips and taste her sweetness.
“My lady,” he said.
Rowena jumped guiltily, at first unsure who was calling her. She had feigned a headache and told Ava that she was going back to her bed chamber to retrieve a headache remedy. After much fussing, she managed to convince Ava not to accompany her. Then when her nursemaid became engaged in a conversation with the garrison commander, Rowena had slipped out of the great hall.
“Sir Jonathan?” she said, placing one hand over her fluttering heart. He emerged out of the shadows, towering, large and powerful. Even though he was several paces away, she could feel his heat.
“I’m leaving for Blackburn tonight,” he said.
“So soon?” she asked, finally gaining control of her composure. She gave Beauty a reassuring pat. “The festivities are far from over. Perhaps you will enjoy the celebration a little longer?”
“Why aren’t you enjoying the celebrations now?” he asked.
The same guilty look stole over her face. Rowena glanced at the entrance of the stable as if expecting to see her nursemaid appear. “I have waited long enough and needed to see to my palfrey,” she said, stroking the neck of the very pregnant horse beside her. “I was not aware that anyone saw me leave the hall.”
He shrugged. “If they did, they likely thought you were going to use the guard robe.”
“But why did you follow me?”
He drew her away from the horse. “I came to bid you farewell,” he said, a strange light appearing in his eyes. “Also I need to determine one last thing before I leave.”
“What is it?” she asked, searching his face. Her eyes settled on the long scar that ran down the length of his face. It made him look fierce, although the expression on his rugged face had turned gentle, a smile playing on his lips.
Rowena didn’t think that he was handsome at first but now up close, she had to admit that he had a rather pleasant face. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, and became conscious of the strength and power that exuded from his body. And she was all too aware of him as the virile male that kissed her once in town and many more times in her dreams.
He stood close to her now and with one hand, he reached out to caress her soft skin. “I often lie awake at night thinking about our encounter,” he confessed.
She startled at his touch. “Sir Jonathan,” she managed in what she hoped was a brisk tone. She took a step back. “We are no longer in town. That game is finished. I told you that I do not wish to speak of that encounter ever again.”
“I know there’s something warm and yielding inside,” he continued as if he didn’t hear her. He traced a long finger along her jaw, leaving a burning trail of erotic heat in its wake. “I want to experience it again,” he said softly, undeterred by her icy tone.
“‘Tis a mistake for us to be alone,” she said, although she remained as still as if the slippers she wore somehow had sprouted roots and became embedded into the ground.
He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, stroking, caressing her silken skin until it tingled with awareness.
She felt her mouth go dry, and she touched her tongue to her lips to moisten them.
“The only way to know for sure that I didn’t dream everything up is to taste your sweetness again,” he said, staring at her lips. “Will you indulge me?”
Unsettled, alarmed and bewildered, Rowena took another step back. “I — I think I should leave,” she said, acutely aware of the intense heat radiating from his powerful body.
“Nay,” he said. He took her by the hand, drawing her closer to him until she was an arm’s length away. “I would like it very much if you stayed.”
Beauty whinnied in protest or warning, but Rowena barely heard the palfrey over the thundering of her heart.
Relentless brown eyes imprisoned terrified grey ones. She felt herself drown in their depths. Her breathing became more laborious under his seductive gaze as he lifted her hand and gently kissed her slender fingertips, her palm, and then settling his warm lips at the wild fluttering pulse at her wrist.
He pulled her closer to him until she could feel his warm breath intermingling with hers.
And then as if from a great distance she watched, helpless as his mouth descended. Her lips parted, unconsciously offering silent invitation. He took the offering, touching his lips to hers in a kiss as flitting as a butterfly resting on a delicate rose petal.
A shock wave struck her entire body as she felt his touch.
He stared down at her now, his eyes dark with desire. “Mmmm…” he murmured appreciatively. “Your lips are more luscious than I remember.”
Sensing her control crumbling, she tried in desperation to steer the conversation back to something that resembled sanity. Mustering what little willpower she had left and hoping that she sounded calm and reasonable, she said, “Perhaps you have mistaken me for one of your courtesans.”
He chuckled as if he saw through her ploy. He shook his head. “I know ‘tis you.” His other arm drew her even closer, crushing her so she could feel his hard length.
All coherent thought flew from her mind as she breathed in the combination of soap and delicious male scent of him. She gazed at the firm sensual line of his lips, watching as they descended purposefully to hers yet again. Some deep womanly instinct took over and her body began to yield.
She heard the roar of blood rushing inside her body and became aware of a
deep, mysterious sensation that swelled magnificently and then pooled in the center of her woman’s core.
Sensing her surrender, he slipped his tongue through her welcoming lips, invading the soft crevice, claiming, conquering it as his own.
He withdrew his lips, and she let out a moan of protest, but the sound died in her throat as she felt his hot tongue trail a line of fire down her neck, finding a sensitive spot, teasing, lingering there for what seemed like an eternity.
She closed her eyes and the world began to spin faster as his mouth found its way back, seizing her lips with raw hunger. He forced her lips to open wider, invading her mouth, his expert tongue trying to draw in more of her sweetness.
He continued the erotic onslaught of her enchanting mouth, slowly withdrawing, and then plunging in again, simulating the carnal act he desperately longed to satisfy.
Rowena shyly touched his tongue in return. At her tentative touch, a growl escaped from his throat, as if a torrent of wild passion had exploded in him and she was responsible for releasing the floodgate of suppressed desire. His tongue tangled with hers. He shoved his hands into her hair. And Rowena became lost in the electrifying kiss, carried away in the delicious feelings that she never knew existed.
From far away, she heard a low moan, and she vaguely realized that the sound was coming from deep within her chest. He made her feel helpless with wanting, although she didn’t yet know what it was that she wanted.
The uncertainty of a moment ago eased out of her as a shattering explosion of light poured through her. Innocent of the heated passion he was deliberately, skillfully arousing in her, she became intoxicated by it, seduced into forgetting where she was, who she was.
His arm tightened around her, pulling her even closer. His hand moved and cupped her breast forcing it upward.
Through the thin fabric of her gown, Jonathan could feel her flesh swelling beneath his palm, her nipple rising up proudly against it. He brushed his thumb back and forth against the hardened bud. He felt her gasp of shocked delight against his mouth before she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss as if trying to return the intense pleasure he invoked in her.
Startled by the tormenting sweetness of her response, he lifted his mouth from hers, gazing down at her flushed, intoxicating face while he continued to caress her breast, telling himself that he was moving into dangerous ground and that it was mad to tempt himself thus.
But then a split second later, the nickering of the horses alerted him of another presence in the stable, instantly cooling his ardor. He abruptly withdrew from Rowena a few seconds before he saw a stable boy walk in, whistling a jaunty tune and swinging a bucket of water.
When the boy noticed them, he went stock still, his eyes wide. He dropped his gaze to the ground. “S — sorry,” he stammered, backing away. “I — I thought everyone was in the great hall…” Then he turned the other direction and ran toward the exit as if he were chased by a pack of hounds.
Jonathan raked his hand over his hair, and cursed under his breath. He was dangerously close to ravishing an innocent maiden. And in the stable no less. He had no idea what had come over him, and had the boy not interrupted them, things might have progressed a little more than was proper. Turning to Rowena, he offered her an apologetic smile. “‘Tis I who should be sorry. I got a bit carried away with recreating my dream,” he said. “I hope you’ll forgive me, my lady.”
Rowena looked at him, dazed as if she had no idea what he was talking about. But when her sanity returned, it came at her with full force. “He saw us together!” she whispered in horror. “He’ll tell my father!”
“I wouldn’t worry about the stable boy. I doubt that he saw anything.”
Rowena placed her hands on her flaming face and all she could do was shake her head. Shame raged through her as she looked down at her disarranged clothing, and she tugged everything back into place. The shock of what almost transpired made her body tremble. But even she knew that Jonathan couldn’t take full blame for what happened. Without a doubt, she had wantonly and willingly participated in her own seduction.
“This should not have happened,” she said, closing her eyes.
All of a sudden the stable felt small. She wanted and needed to get away from here, hoping that perhaps that the distance would make her forget her appalling, shameful behavior. Every time she was in Jonathan’s vicinity, she invariably lost all her sense, all her control.
Without looking at Jonathan or saying another word, she turned and gave into her urge to flee.
CHAPTER 12
Rowena came out of the stables so swiftly that she didn’t see Derrik rounding the corner.
Derrik, on the other hand, saw her immediately. Her eyes were trained to the ground as if she was agitated and deep in thought. Ava had sent him to fetch her since she hadn’t returned to the hall as she promised. Rowena had a talent for slipping out from under Ava’s watchful eye and it was always up to Derrik to find her.
It was a good thing he knew Rowena well because finding her made his job easier. She always liked to hang around the two stables in the outer courtyard or in the garden. However the stables were the first place to look. And so far his hunch was correct. He called out to her. “Lady Rowena,” he said, taking in the wisps of hair that escaped from her braids. He looked at her with concern. “What has happened to you? Are you all right?”
Rowena looked up crossly, and when she spied Derrik, her face clouded over even more. “Of course I am all right,” she said. “Why would I not be?” She smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear with a little too much force.
He narrowed his eyes, seeing through her lie. Rowena was a terrible liar especially when it came to him. She turned her head, refusing to meet his gaze. “It looks like you’ve fallen in with the pigs,” he said. When his jest didn’t get the reaction that he expected, he frowned. Something was definitely amiss. “Ava asked me to look for you,” he explained. “I’ll take you back to the hall.”
She cast him a warning glance. “I can find my way back on my own,” she said in a tight voice.
He raised both hands up in mock surrender. “All right,” he said, “all right, I know when my company is not desired.”
With the irritated expression still on her face, she brushed past him, muttering something under her breath, something that he couldn’t quite hear.
He shook his head in puzzlement, and started to follow her back to the hall. But a movement from the stable entrance caught the corner of his eye and he saw Jonathan emerging out from there. The knight sat atop his spotted gray warhorse, a deep scowl on his face. Then all of a sudden, the puzzle pieces fit together and everything began to make sense. A ball of resentment began to grow inside his chest.
“You, sire,” Derrik called out, his voice starting to rise in anger. He put his hand at the hilt of his sword, feeling the solid comfort at his hip. “You have upset Lady Rowena.”
Jonathan stopped his horse and looked to see who was calling him, his expression thunderous as well as dangerous. His horse, feeling the tension in his master, perked its ears as if waiting for a signal to charge. When he saw that it was only Derrik, he cocked one eyebrow, daring him to speak.
But the young knight was fearless in his anger. He walked boldly up to Jonathan, his hand tightening on the sword’s hilt as if it possessed powers that could protect him from harm. “What have you done to her? Answer me!”
“‘Tis none of your concern, boy,” Jonathan snapped. His grip on the reins tightened. “You best be on your way. I have no time for idle talk.” He made a move to maneuver his horse around him.
Derrik pulled out his sword, barring his way. “I am not a boy,” he said furiously, although the intense anger began to dissipate when he realized how close he was standing near the man and his beast. He fought the urge to take a step back. There was still the matter of Rowena’s honor after all. “You will answer my question before I let you pass.”
Jonathan’s face became as hard as ston
e. “I answer to no man or boy,” he said. “Move aside.”
Derrik’s mouth went dry as all the childhood stories he heard of the Iron Hawk came rushing forward. Despite his doubts about the validity of all the legendary claims of the Iron Hawk, there was real reason to fear this large knight. The blade in his hand no longer felt as steady. But he had no choice but to stand his ground. “When you upset a lady of the castle, you upset me. I demand to know what has happened,” he said in a loud voice, but even as he called out his threat, he didn’t sound as convincing or as threatening as he had hoped.
“Demand?” Jonathan repeated in a soft voice, although the word itself sounded menacing. He narrowed his eyes, watching the young knight closely.
Then in slow, deliberate movements, Jonathan urged his warhorse closer, trying to intimidate Derrik with the sheer size of his beast. The large knight looked him in the eye. “This is the last time I will say this. Put that sword away and move aside,” he said.
Derrik swallowed visibly but he lifted the sword higher until it was at shoulder height. His face was a jumble of emotions — fear mixed with anger and alarm. “I’m afraid that is not a satisfactory answer, sire,” he said loud enough that he could be heard throughout the courtyard.
The few servants who were still working in the bailey stopped and gaped at them, unwilling to come closer, yet transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of them. Even the guards on the rampart looked down from their posts, curious to see the outcome of this unbalanced confrontation.
All of a sudden, Jonathan threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter. “This is ridiculous,” he said. He didn’t bother touching the sword that hung low on his belt. “Your precious lady was in no way harmed. Ask her yourself. Now put away your sword, boy, before you hurt yourself.”
Derrik’s face turned red. “I told you I’m not a boy,” he said furiously.
If the Hawk heard him, he couldn’t say. The large knight made a wide turn around him and rumbled across the courtyard, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.
One True Knight (The Knights of Honor Trilogy) Page 9