One True Knight (The Knights of Honor Trilogy) (11 page)

He felt a tap on his shoulder and as he turned, he found Derrik standing behind him.

“Do you mind if I take your place for this next song, sire?” he asked, looking expectantly at Jonathan.

Jonathan fought down his irritation. Curious eyes looked their way and he was forced to bow and allow the boy to take his place.

He made his way to where the spectators stood and continued to watch Rowena. She moved like a wood nymph, lithe and beautiful, leaping and twirling, easily outshining all the other maidens that danced around her.

When Rowena looked his way, he smiled at her. He felt content just watching her, content that the sad cloud that hung over her head had disappeared.

“She is beautiful is she not?” a voice said at his side.

Jonathan glanced down, and was surprised to find Rowena’s nursemaid standing beside him. “Aye,” he agreed. The town folk spoke about Rowena at length, always in a tone of reverence. And now he knew why. Anyone would be captivated by her angelic beauty and innocent charm. “But why is she not wed?” he asked curiously.

“She has yet to find the man that she wishes to wed,” the nursemaid replied.

Jonathan gave the older woman a considering look. “That young pup seems in love with her enough,” he said, nodding his head at Derrik.

“Sir Derrik?” Ava laughed and said, “I would not worry about him, if I were you.” The young knight’s eyes never left Rowena’s face, attentive, almost adoring, although the lady in question didn’t seem to notice. “Aye, he is in love with her all right,” she continued, the corners of her eyes still crinkled in amusement. “But my Rowena will not have him. They have known each other all their lives, and she loves him only as a brother, as their constant squabbling would indicate.”

“He has warned me that few men would interest the lady.”

“He would know,” she said, her deep laughter ringing out once again. “She sent several of them away, much to her father’s displeasure.” She gave him a sly look. “You, on the other hand, would make her a fine husband. Sir Philip and Lady Lorena speak very highly of you.”

“I have no plans to wed,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

Her eyebrows shot up in confusion. “I have seen you speaking with my lady. Are you not wooing her hand in marriage? I am told that you are on the list of men that Sir Philip has approved of,” she said.

“Sir Philip has approved of me,” he admitted, “although I have no interest in marrying Lady Rowena, or anyone else for that matter.”

Still even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the dark haired beauty from his mind. When she smiled at him, just as how she was smiling at him now, it shook him to the core. But he was acting like a besotted fool, a voice inside him berated. What kind of seasoned knight would allow a woman to affect him so? It was pure madness and dangerous as well. If his enemy ever caught wind of what he was thinking, Rowena would be vulnerable, just as Amelia had been. But what was the point in thinking about Rowena in this manner? Tonight there was an unspoken truce between them. She was only being civilized to him because she was afraid that he would expose her. From her attitude toward him this morning, it was clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him.

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.