Eliza Knight - The Rules of Chivalry (28 page)

BOOK: Eliza Knight - The Rules of Chivalry
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“I cannot leave her. No.” He shook his head vehemently. “I left her before and look what happened.”

“’Tis
all my
fault,” Richard said with anguish. “I should have posted a guard at her door.”

“No,

tis my fault for letting her marry that Godless bastard!” McCullough said through gritted teeth.

“You can all play the blame game, but I do not see that it will do any of you any good, and it certainly will not help my lady to heal. We are all accountable in some way.” Michael glanced up from Elena’s prone body to see her lady’s maid Beth
walk
into the room, her gaze on the bed.

Something about the way she gazed at Elena pinched a nerve in Michael. She looked almost…pleased.

But that could not be. This woman had been amongst the six loyal women who’d served Elena for years, and protected her. When he looked closer, her face was a mask of platitude.

He needed to rest, that must be why he was seeing things. He’d traveled nonstop and been dealt some heavy news. Not to mention the mind twisting torture of not knowing whether the only thing that mattered in his life would live or die.

He’d been in battle plenty, seen men die, held their heads and promised to relay messages to their families as they’d breathed their last, but nothing compared to this. With Elena, life held meaning. He wanted a future with her. They’d created a miracle within her womb. Life and how precious it was, was all so much more poignant than before.

“Go and rest, wash up. Eat something. I will sit here with her while you do.” Baron McCullough scooted a chair close to the edge of Elena’s bed and planted his large frame within it. He turned back to see that Michael still stood there. “Go.
Now.”

Walking away from Elena’s sick room took every
ounce of willpower he had, and then some—it took the urging of Richard.

“Come, I’ll share a meal with you and then have a bath sent up to your room.”

Michael wanted to protest, but he couldn’t as Richard’s face was stern and he did not want to argue with the man who would offer him shelter and who had saved Elena’s life twice now. So, instead of arguing, he allowed himself to be led to the great hall where he ate cold meat and bread and drank too many cups of ale.

*****

Two weeks went by with Elena’s health recovering at a rapid pace. Everyone was quite surprised at how well she recuperated from a wound that they all believed meant her death.
Raelyn
took excellent care of her
. P
rayers and tithes were offered
.
Michael spent as many waking moments, and some in slumber, by her side that her brother and father would allow.

Messages had been sent to the king following the incident with the assassin. Richard had mangled
the bastard
beyond recognition, so no one was able to identify him, but the dagger he used, Michael did recognize, but damn if he could figure out where he’d seen it before.

Elena had flitted in an out of consciousness, beating a fever, and finally was eating again.
Raelyn
had also discreetly informed him that Elena had not bled, and so it would appear the babe was healthy.

But now came the hard part. He would have to speak with her regarding the attack to see if she recognized the man.

He knocked softly on her door, and heard her soft call from within. The sound of her voice brought a smile to his face and had his heart beating rapidly. To think he’d almost lost her!

He opened the door and walked inside. Elena sat up in her bed, pillows propped behind her. She was dressed in a
white
nightrail
and matching
robe,
and the coverlet was pulled up to her hips. Her hands rested on her lap. From the weight of her arms pulling the covers tight, he could make out a small swell in her abdomen. Color had returned to her cheeks and lips.

“You look well and…beautiful,” Michael said softly as he approached, running his fingers over the edge of the bed.

She blushed. “Michael.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “There is so much I want to say.”

He knelt beside the bed, took her hands, and gazed into her warm eyes. “Let me first beg your forgiveness.”

“I have already given it to you on several occasions already,” she said with a small laugh.

“I know, but every time I look at you, I realize that I could have lost you, and I am filled with guilt once more.”


Shh
…” She pressed a delicate finger to his lips, and desire flared inside him. He recalled how he’d once kissed those fingers, brought her to the heights of pleasure. She closed her eyes, and he could tell from the ragged breath she took that she was thinking similar thoughts.

“I shan’t ask it of you again—today.”

“Then we agree upon that. But I know there is more you want to discuss…
The attack.”
Her lips twitched, and she pressed a hand to her belly.

They had yet to discuss the child growing inside her, and he could see the fear in her eyes. Did she think he would not accept her or the babe?

“Elena.” He placed his hand over hers, feeling the swell beneath his fingertips and kept his gaze steady. “I know about the babe—our babe.”

“You do?”
She half-grimaced.

“Aye, not only did
Raelyn
tell me but you whispered of it in your sleep. Do not make such a face. Do you know me not at all?” he teased. “I love you. I have loved you since the moment I first met you all those years ago. You are my
princess, and now you carry a little prince or princess within your womb that we created with our love.
A miracle.
The child has survived so much already.”

Elena beamed and grasped his cheeks in her hands. She leaned forward and placed her lips on his. What was probably meant to be a chaste kiss quickly turned to one of
desperate
need. Her lips were so pliant and soft beneath his, and she tasted of chamomile, lemons and honey. He swiped his tongue between her lips to drink deeper of her kiss. She moaned softly against his mouth, her fingers sliding from his cheeks into his hair. Michael wrapped his arms around her waist, stroking up her back and then to her cheeks and soft hair. It’d been too long since last he felt her lips on his. He wanted to consume her. He wanted to lay her back on the bed and stroke away every bad memory, leaving paradise in the devil’s wake.

“Uh—huh.”

They startled apart at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them. Michael turned, with a snarl to see who would interrupt them, but was greeted by Baron McCullough. Instantly he felt shame for having kissed the baron’s daughter with such obvious sensuality.

“My lord, I—”

The baron shook his head and held his hand up dismissively. “No need to explain, I suspect we all knew this moment was coming. And if I’m not mistaken it has happened before.” The baron gave a knowing look at Elena’s belly.

When Michael opened his mouth the say something, the baron cut him off, “A missive has arrived from the king.”

 

 

Chapter Twenty-
Five

 

“M
issive?
Is the messenger still here?” Michael stood, but still clutched Elena’s hand in his.

She felt she would die of embarrassment at her father not only walking in on her and Michael in the midst of a passionate embrace, but also having figured out she was with child. And to know the child was Michaels’! Why did he not brand her a whore?

“Aye.
Ordinarily, I would tell you to come with me to speak in private, but since the news contains information regarding my daughter and her husband, I thought it best to bring it before the both of you to hear.”

Oh, God
… Her stomach knotted with fear, and she held her breath. Any mention of Kent in her presence brought on a sense of panic, now was not any different. Sweat gathered on the back of her neck, and she willed herself not to start screaming. Her fingers trembled and she clasped them in a tight grip to keep Michael and her father from seeing. Flashes of that night passed in her mind. It was dark.
A man in a cloak.
His words…
From my master, your master.
And then his apology,
I never wanted this.
There was something so familiar about his voice, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Are you all right?” Michael asked, turning concerned eyes on her.

“Perhaps I should relay the news to you alone in Richard’s library,” her father cut in, speaking to Michael.

“No!” She bit her lip at having yelled, but truly she did not want him to leave without telling her the news. Her sanity would never last. “I would hear what it says…please.”

Her father nodded, and Michael squeezed her hand in reassurance. The baron unrolled the parchment and cleared his throat.


Sir Michael Devereux, I write this letter on behalf of His Royal Highness, King Henry V of England, France and Lord of Ireland. We are in receipt of your missive regarding the crimes of one Earl of Kent, Chauncey de Bourg. With witnesses to prove of his crimes both in England and France
,
His Majesty did send forthwith men to detain him and convey him to Westminster Palace. However, upon the arrival of the royal yeoman, the Earl appeared to suffer from apoplexy. He was pronounced deceased within minutes.
I regret that I should bear this news within the confines of a letter, but it is imperative that you return to England—as is the King’s demand. You are to deliver the Countess of Kent to the royal court at Westminster with all due haste.
Would that you also relay this somewhat delicate news to her ladyship.
God be with you and protect you on your journey.
–Robert Darcy, Clerk of King Henry V of England, France and Lord of Ireland.

“I will go.” Elena lifted her chin so that neither her father nor Michael could argue with her.

“You will wait until you’ve recovered,” her father said sternly.

Michael nodded and crossed his thick arms over his broad chest. “I agree. There is no need for you rush into anything. You’ve only just begun to eat regularly. And the babe…”

Elena frowned at Michael. “I will agree to wait another week, but then we shall report to His Royal Highness. I must have a say in my future before he demands I marry another cruel barbarian.”

“He won’t,” both men said at the same time and then gave each other an appreciative glance.

She rolled her eyes. “You are both so sure of yourselves.”

“We know the mind of the King. He is not as cruel as some would make him out to be. He will not marry you off to just anyone after having discovered the torment you’ve been through,” Michael said.

“There is another reason as well,” the baron added. “I
have already sent him my opinion on whom you should marry.”

Her mouth fell open in exasperation. “What? Who? How could you have done such a thing when you knew I was already married—even if the man was the devil incarnate?”

Her father clamped his mouth closed and crossed his arms over his chest. Michael glowered, any bit of camaraderie they might have shared moments ago seemed to dissipate. Elena could almost read Michael’s thoughts as he shot daggers through his gaze at her father. He was thinking her father would once again give her to someone else. And she was of a like mind. Anger simmered beneath the surface of her skin, and she gripped the sheets in her hands to keep from lashing out.

“Might I have a word in private with you, Elena? Michael.” The baron nodded to Michael in dismissal.

Michael bowed stiffly, taking the hint that he was to leave. She opened her mouth to protest, but Michael gave a subtle shake of his head, and sent her a smile that told her how much he cared for her.

She gulped. Her father would now surely tell her how much she had disgraced him, and that as punishment he had suggested to the King he marry her off to some other boar seeing as how her first husband could not take her in hand. As Michael closed the door, her father walked closer and sat down on the bed beside her. He looked down at his hands, dejected. It was the first time she’d ever seen him look so unconfident, so unsure.

“When you were born, I held your little pink body in these hands. I looked at your mother and I told her you were perfect, that I would protect you for the rest of my days.” He sighed deeply, as if a great burden held a clamp on his heart. “I failed her. I failed you.”

“Father—” She placed her hand on his. This was not what she expected at all. Her father appeared to be
apologizing instead of berating her.

“No, Elena,

tis true.
I should never have let you marry that madman. Look at all that has happened to you.” He sucked in a breath. Were those tears glistening in his eyes?

She bit the inside of her cheek as the sting of tears filled her own eyes.

“I am a stubborn fool. I assumed your letters were those of a lonely young girl, wanting to come home.
Exaggerations.
That you pined for another man and refused to give your marriage a chance.
I know now that they were nothing but the pleas of a child to be saved by the one who gave them life and promised to forever safeguard them.
” He shook his head. “I never wanted you to marry Kent. But it was ordered by the king and I prayed he’d treat you well. Before we received the news of his death,
I sent a missive to the King demanding an annulment, and that I wished to join you with an ally of my own. I sent two men to fetch you the night you were attacked here. I wanted you home. I wanted to tell you how much I regretted everything I’d done and said. My men returned with news that you had been… Forgive me child, I should have come for you myself.” He looked up at her then, agony and remorse etched on his features.

“I forgive you, Father.”

She pulled him into an embrace, pressing her face to his shoulder as she did when she was a child and they stayed that way for some time.

After a while, Elena pulled back, and held the baron’s gaze with her own. “Father, who did you suggest I marry?”

The baron chuckled. “Dear daughter, who do you think? I should have let him marry you when he asked all those years ago. Can you forgive a man his stubborn hide?”

Elena’s smile faltered. She couldn’t begrudge him for things in the past. Kent had made her life hell, but now he was gone, and would burn in purgatory for eternity, she would never have to see him again or face his wrath.
Dwelling on her forced marriage and her ignored pleas from her father would get her nowhere.
Best to forgive and move on.

“I forgive you.”

“Thank you. Now, get well so you can answer the King’s summons. He’s not a patient man, and I fear if you tarry too long, he will not consider my request.”

Elena nodded, and lay back against the feather pillows. She was feeling much better, if not a little tired. She sent a prayer of thanks to God that he’d kept her alive, and that her baby was safe. It appeared now everything would be well.

*****

A fortnight later, Elena and Michael were escorted by the King’s guard to their separate guest quarters at Westminster Palace—which Elena was glad to see were right next to each other.
Her ladies set about unpacking
, with the exception of
Raelyn
who paced the length of the room so many times, Elena lost count.

“Will you not settle,
Raelyn
? You are making me dizzy.” Elena held a hand up to her forehead, indeed feeling a bit flushed.

Olivia thrust a glass of watered ale into her hands, and Elena sipped the cool liquid feeling slightly better.

“We are lucky that it has yet to snow,”
Raelyn
said out of the blue. “Do you think it will snow soon?”

“It is nearly the winter solstice, so I would think bad weather will soon be upon us. Will you stop your
pacing!
” Elena didn’t mean for her words to come out as harshly as they did, but really,
Raelyn’s
pacing was driving her mad. Elena flopped into a chair and rubbed her rounded belly.

Raelyn
came to a quick stop, wringing her hands, her brow furrowed in concern. “Forgive me, my lady,

tis only… Do you think Thomas is here, at the palace?”

Elena could not forget that
Raelyn
was supposed to marry some months before and had yet to exchange her vows.
Had yet to see the man who left in the late summer for battle.
She held out her hand to her friend and
Raelyn
took it. Elena squeezed in gentle reassurance and urged her loyal friend to sit.

“If he is not at court, then we shall make way to his holding after the King dismisses us.”

“Oh, but, my lady!”

Elena held up her hand. “No arguments. You deserve your wedding day, and I shall see that it happens sooner rather than later. Besides, Thomas is most probably pacing the floors just as agitatedly as you are, my dear.”

Raelyn
laughed at that, but Elena’s words did seem to calm her. The lady’s maid stood and helped the rest of Elena’s attendants to organize her trunks.

A moment later, a knock sounded at the door. Beth opened the door to Michael,
then
slipped out. Did she have a beau of her own at court?

“My lady.”
Michael bowed low, with a wink and a charming smile.

Elena held out her hand and he kissed her lingeringly on the knuckles, his hot breath sending chills up her arm. Need swirled in her belly, making her shift uncomfortably. How could he have such an effect on her still? She longed to be alone with him so they might share a kiss once more. So that he might lay her on the bed and—

“How do you fare?” He sat beside her on the cushioned bench and stroked a discreet hand over her belly.

She shivered at his soft touch. “Very well,” she murmured.
“Now that you are here.”
Such a sense of peace blanketed her. She was finally
and thankfully
free from the confines of marriage with Kent, and now soon would be married to the one man she could not live without. Michael, who always made her feel loved, safe, beautiful, cherished.

He picked up her hand and held it in his, stroking her palm with his thumb. “Is your room acceptable?”

For a moment she was too distracted by the tickle of his thumb on her sensitive flesh to answer. It seemed that every inch of her skin was singing and alive. She glanced up to see he was waiting for her response. “Better than. What about yours?”

He smiled. “Better than. And what’s even most exciting is that door.” He jutted his chin forward, and she followed his gaze.

Indeed there was a door. “Does it connect with your
chamber
?”

“Aye.
This solar is the only room separating our two chambers. I suspect His Majesty picked out these rooms with that in mind.”

“Truly?
But we are not yet wed.”

“Perhaps we will be very soon.”

Elena sighed with longing. “I hope it is so.
I long to be in your arms.”
She whispered the latter.

With a devilish grin, Michael leaned close. “And what would you have me do when you are in my arms?”

Heat crept up her cheeks from her neck and chest. “Kiss me.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere,” she squeaked out on a breath.

Michael tickled her palm. “Perhaps, we shall both retire early, and you can tell your ladies to leave you alone. I will open that special door and do just as you have requested.”

Elena’s mouth fell open on a gasp.
“Oh, how sinful!”


What we have could never be sinful.
” He glanced down at her belly and then back into her eyes. His gaze held a hunger, a yearning that made her heart quicken and her legs quiver. Between her thighs she grew moist with wanting, and her nipples hardened, aching for Michael’s touch.

BOOK: Eliza Knight - The Rules of Chivalry
12.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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