Joanna Davis - Knights In Shining Armor (12 page)

              This must stop. Now.

              "Emeline."

              She froze at the sound of his voice. He inhaled sharply. He had achieved his purpose. She now obeyed him without hesitation. He felt something twist inside him, like a blade.

              "Leave that for the servants."

              He waved over a young man who lifted the basket from her arms. She stood immobile, refusing to look at him.

              "If you won't rest at least go outside and sit in the sun. You look overly pale sweeting."

              He stared at her, willing her to fight back, to tell him to keep his thoughts to himself, to do anything at all.

              "Go on, love."

              She stirred finally, walking woodenly down the hallway to the kitchen door. Her hand was on the wall for support. He swallowed, feeling his throat constrict.

             
Blessed Jesu, what have I done?

**********

              Emeline sat on a large rock and stared blankly into space. Idly she had picked some overgrown chamomile and was weaving the flowers into a chain for her hair. She remembered that she used to do such things. She used to enjoy them.

              She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. She was too pale for him. She must do as he said. Otherwise…

              She shuddered feeling a sudden chill.

              A man was staring at her from the courtyard. He was incredibly well dressed and wore a gold circle on his head.

              Edward.

              The King.

              It must be.

              She stood hastily and sunk into a low curtsy. When she lifted her eyes he was smiling at her, his eyes sliding down her body. Even from the distance she could see the sensual intent in his gaze.

              A cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't thought she could be more afraid of what was to come. But in that moment, she was.

**********

              Rowan sat with Edward, discussing his plans for war with France. He'd made a claim for the French crown and been rudely rebuffed. As a result, the young King wanted blood.

              Rowan knew the King would not ask him to leave Fairhaven again. As a seasoned warrior he was more valuable to England here. They even planned to expand the garrisons to take on a greater force. He would be in charge of training and overseeing all the soldiers in this region on the country, and tumultuous Scotland to the North.

              As the meal time approached he waited for Emeline to make her appearance. He'd instructed Magda to dress her according to her station and to do whatever she could to bring some life into her cheeks, even if that meant pinching them.

              A moment later and he felt the wind knocked out of him. Magda had outdone herself. Emeline walked gracefully into the hall, clad in an emerald green dress with golden overskirt that fit her glorious curves to perfection. Her dark hair was half up, pined back to show the beauty of her face to it's best advantage.

              A matching cap with sheer veil covered her brow.

              Magda had not simply pinched her cheeks to give her color. She's done something else- perhaps stained her lips with berries. The effect was devastating to his senses. He quickly rethought his plan to leave her alone. He would bed her this night, surely. But he would not hold back this time. He would tell her that he forgave her at last. That he cared for her.

              That he would wed her.

              He felt better than he had in weeks as she took her place beside him, and across from the King. That's until he saw the look on Edwards face. He was staring at Emeline with a look of pure adulation…. and naked lust. As the meal progressed, Rowan was forced to watch as his King mentally undressed his woman with obvious anticipation.

              He meant to have her.

              But he could not.

              Emeline for her part sat quietly beside him, seemingly in a trance. She responded when addressed, and when he offered her a choice bite she obediently opened her lips to accept it. But she was not truly there with them he knew.

              And he was the one at fault.

              As the meal drew to a close he whispered in her ear to prepare herself for bed and that she should sleep if able. He would wake her when he was finished entertaining the King.

              The moment she was gone Edward leaned forward.

              "So you wish to delay your marriage so you can continue bedding that delightful creature without interruption. I can't say I blame you."

              "I wish to wed her."

              The King raised his eyebrows.

              "Really. You know that the wedding I have arranged would bring you great power and wealth. You already have the lady, and her property in your possession."

              "It matters not. I have a long standing attachment to the lady."

              "You have a long standing attachment to those tits! My god, I've never seen the like! And her face… what a beauty. I'd say she's better than any I have had. How is she by the way?"

              Rowan swallowed. He had to answer the King. To do otherwise would be an insult.             

              "She is… a responsive bed partner."

              "Trying to throw me off the scent are you? Well, it won't do. I am your King and I will grant you your request on one condition."

              Rowan stared at his liege, praying that he would not say what he suspected… no, what he
knew
Edward was about to ask.

              "You may wed your whore if you grant your King permission to take your place in her bed on this night."

              "My liege-"

              "Now don't be a bore Rowan. I mean to have her whether you give me leave or not. I will simply go to your chamber in your stead, and douse the candles. She not need know it is me."

              Rowan closed his eyes. He could see no way out of this situation. But he knew she would know who bedded her. Emeline might be fading away, but she was no fool. He thought furiously as to how to detain the King until he could get word to her. Perhaps if they drank enough, he would lose interest. He had to dissuade him somehow.

             
He must.

              "More wine!"

              The King raised his cup, saluting him.

**********

              Madga burst into the chamber where Emeline lay naked on the bed. She hoped that if she showed her submission to him, Rowan might not withhold her pleasure so long on this night.

              Then again, it did not truly matter one way or the other.

              "Get dressed!"

              Emeline sat up slowly, catching the gown that Madga threw at her.

              "Hurry!"

              "What is it?"

              "I heard them talking. He means- our
Lord
means to give you to the King this night!"

              Magda's voice sneered when she mentioned Rowan. But he wouldn't so such a thing. Would he?

              "Are you certain Magda? He seems intent on having me all to himself."

              Magda pulled the dress over her head and yanked her to her feet.

              "Aye, I'm sure! They were bargaining for something. The King told him he meant to have you either way so Lord Fairhaven might as well take the exchange. They were speaking of his wealthy bride to be. I heard him call for wine to seal the deal!"

              Ice crashed through Emeline's veins, replacing the blood that was once there. She followed the old woman down the servants narrow stairs. She threw an old cloak on and grasped the sack of food that Magda thrust at her.

              "Go on my child. Peter is waiting outside with horses. Bend over as if you are old. You must pretend to be me."

              "But where will I go?"

              The old woman's face pinched hard.

              "Where you should have gone to begin with. The only place you'll be safe from him."             

              Emeline nodded slowly. She knew what Magda meant.

              The nunnery.

              She kissed the old woman's cheeks and slipped through the back gate into the night.

Ten

             
"You what?"

              Rowan stared at the servant in disbelief. She raised her wizened face and stared him boldly in the eye.

              "I sent her where you could not hurt her any more."

              Madga spat on the ground.

              "Kill me if you will but I will not regret what I did. I heard you with the King."

              Her eyes filled with tears.

              "How could ye?"

              He was in the great hall, pacing back and forth while the King was in his chamber, mightily displeased. Rowan could not suppress a smile of relief. He'd sent him the two pretty milkmaids in her stead. The girls had been thrilled to be of service to the crown when he'd asked them. Hopefully Edward would forget his disappointment.

              He stopped pacing.

              "Listen to me Madga. I did not give her to the King. Whatever you heard, you misunderstood. I was trying to convince him otherwise!"

              She looked at him sideways, clearly unconvinced.

              "You know that I would not share her with anyone. Not even Edward."

              She nodded slowly.

              "'Tis true you are possessive of her. But you yourself have no right to her now. I've seen to that!"

              She spat on the floor for emphasis. He smiled suddenly.

              "Where is she Magda? Tell me true. I must make certain she is safe."

              "Oh she's safe alright. Don't you worry about that."

              "You will tell me. I'm not angry at you. You've solved the problem of the King's desire for me. But on the morrow, you will take me to her."

              The old woman raised her chin and stared him in the face.

              "Never."

              She would be hard to break.

              But he was up to the challenge.

**********

              Emeline gazed up at the high walls of the nunnery in the cold light of dawn. They'd ridden all night to reach this remote location. The gate opened slowly and she preceded Peter through it. A feeling of sadness overtook her. She had believed herself to be emptied of tears, and yet she felt wetness on her cheeks.

              The place was immense, and well kept. Women were everywhere, all staring at Peter. She almost laughed. The big man looked out of place here.

              A woman came out to greet them and take her to see the Mother Superior. Peter was to wait in the courtyard. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

              Emeline almost felt pity for the man but she was too busy trying to hold her own self pity at bay. All she wanted to do was climb back onto her horse and ride back to Fairhaven. To beg Rowan to tell her it wasn't true what Madga said, even if it was a lie.

              To tell him she forgave him no matter what the truth was.

              If she did that, maybe he would take her in his arms again.

              She could still feel his arms around her, in the place where they should have been. Where they had been every night. He liked to sleep with his body wrapped around her, one leg flung over her hips. She told herself he was just assuring she did not run away from him. Even if he shifted position during the night, he found a way to touch her.

              She hated herself for it, but even in the darkest moments she'd found his touch reassuring. Her body had betrayed her over and over again, even in sleep. She mourned the fact that she'd never sleep by his side again.

              She followed the sister into the building and down a series of cool stone hallways. It was peaceful here. And beautiful.

              She would be safe.

              Alone. But safe.

**********

              "Maggggda… open your mouth mi'lady."

              He cajoled the old woman as she moaned in agony at her seat at the high table.

              "Please- I beg ye- not another bite! Yer trying to kill me!"

              Rowan sat back and smiled, popping the sweetmeat into his own mouth instead. He was not trying to kill the old woman. He
was
attempting to bribe her. He'd given her a private chamber, her own servant, and now the most delicious foods. He'd plied her with wine and song, having a troubadour sit by her side and follow her around the castle for several days.

              His lips twitched.

              Until the old woman had threatened to murder the poor man if he didn't cease his caterwauling.

              But it was all for naught.

              She still refused to tell him where Emeline was hiding. He'd told her the whole story, not leaving anything out. Emeline's betrayal in marrying the late Lord Fairhaven. His own foolish pride. That he loved the lady, even if she had chosen wealth over love so many years ago.