Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart) (25 page)

“Aye. ’Tis what I have also been told.” Sir Richard agreed. “Rowan,” he hesitated, “when our father heard how your mother was murdered, he wanted to storm Baddesley and kill Malin himself. Although you did not know it, Father corresponded regularly with your uncle, Duke Devereux. Devereux told Father that ’twas your right to avenge your parents’ murders.”

Rowan turned away and walked slowly toward a window.  Lisette sensed that he turned in order to hide his reactions to this news.

There was silence for a moment before Rowan said, “I did not know.”

“When our father would have sponsored you for your knighthood, Devereux denied him that right. The Duke of Devereux wanted to honour his sister’s memory by having you under his protection. He also told our father that Baron Baddesley had been your father in all ways and that he did not believe you would take kindly at that point to father claiming you as his son.”

Rowan turned back toward them and gave a grim smile of affirmation. “Devereux was right. His family was the only other family I knew. I arrived there shamed and bitterly angry. Had it not been for my sweet cousin Aveline, God rest her soul, I know not how, or if, I would have survived. I was on a course of self-destruction.”

“Sir Richard,” Lisette stood, wiping her eyes. “I cannot tell you how happy I am to have you here. That such dreadful circumstances in our villages have led to such joyous personal outcome for you both is truly a blessing.”

He bowed. “I am blessed now to be able to call Rowan brother, and you, Countess, my sister.”

Overcome with emotion, Lisette knew she needed to take her leave of the men before she became a weeping mess at their feet. “I believe, Lord Rowan, that our stores are well stocked from your hunting trips and there may be a feast to prepare for our guests from Winchester?” she prompted.

“Aye. A feast would be most fitting.”

“Then there is much to be done. I pray you will excuse me while I hasten to see to it.”

Sir Richard gave her a slight bow.

Rowan came to her and brushed his lips against hers. ‘Do not tire yourself in your preparation, my lady. Have others do the bulk of the work at your command.’

Leaning forward, she whispered, “As always, my lord, your wish is my command.’

Rowan’s expression told her he didn’t believe it for a second. It also promised retribution for her cheeky remark.

As she took her leave from the solar, happiness flowed through her as she heard Richard say, “Our father has followed all news of you closely and with much pride. If you are willing, he would be honoured to meet you.”

There was only a slight hesitation before Rowan replied. “Aye. I am willing.”

“I believe we should unite in our petition to the king to see justice done to Malin of Baddesley,” Richard urged. “He must pay for the damage he has wrought upon both our villages.”

“I agree, brother. But we must present the king with proof of Malin’s involvement,” Rowan cautioned.

That, Lisette thought, may be hard to do. However, with the combined resources of Rowan and Sir Richard, she was sure Malin of Baddesley would pay for his crimes at last. He was a fool to fill Rowan’s quiver with more arrows to fire against him.

Chapter 14

Climbing the stone staircase, Rowan made his way to the chamber he shared with his wife. This day was one he would long remember—for all the right reasons. ’Twas incredible that he had forged a bond so quickly with Sir Richard. For many years, in truth since he’d been driven from Baddesley, he’d kept people at a distance. Aveline had breached that distance.

Rowan’s world was changing. Lisette had forged a close bond with him on all sorts of levels. Today he’d met and bonded with a brother.

As the day had progressed and Sir Richard and some of his men had joined the knights of Romsey in their sword practice, Rowan’s respect for Sir Richard had grown steadily. His brother was a fine swordsman and he had asserted his strength and skill against the men he had trained with—without the need to show-off. Sir Richard was a man whose character Rowan had fast grown to respect.

After Lisette had left the solar, the conversation had turned to more personal topics. Both he and Sir Richard regretted they had not enjoyed the closeness of brotherhood earlier. Richard was the only other son born to the Duke. Rowan’s other six half-siblings were females!

Richard had confessed to being uncomfortable that he was the Duke’s legal heir by virtue that his birth had been legitimate, but Rowan had waived away the concern. Rowan had no need of the Duke’s title or of his wealth. His service to the king had earned him his wealth and his title in his own right and he assured Richard he was happier that way.

Rowan paused outside the door to the chamber he would share again with his wife, now she was recovering from her injuries. Anticipation quickened his pulse rate at the thought of Lisette waiting for him. Despite the wilful streak in her which, he suspected, he would need to constantly rein in throughout their lives, she was a woman he was proud to call his wife. The feast she had organised tonight at such short notice had been fit for King Henry and his courtiers. There was nothing anybody could criticise about her dedication to all her duties as his chatelaine. This eve she had been the perfect hostess.

Upon opening the door, he saw that a single beeswax candle burned in a holder on a chest by their bed. Its light cast soft shadows on her face as she lay in bed, propped up on a pillow, and waited for him. Her shoulders were bare above the bed linen. One bore a dark bruise from her injury, otherwise her skin had a healthy glow and was completely unblemished. That her shoulder had not been completely crushed was simply miraculous.

“I hoped you’d come, my lord.”

He closed and bolted the door before he moved toward her. “This is our chamber, Lisette. Your injuries have been the only thing keeping me away, for I would not wish to hurt either you or the child you carry.”

He tracked the movement of her throat as she swallowed. “Provided you place no weight directly on the bruise on my shoulder, all will be well.”

The smile that curved his lips was probably matched by a devilish glint in his eyes as he thought of all the possibilities for lovemaking that lay ahead this long night. In her naivety Lisette would have no idea of the direction of his thoughts. Nor did she appear to have any idea of the intoxicating picture of beauty she presented lying abed. Her allure enraptured him, made his blood flame and bewitched him completely. As impressive as the fare had been this eve, he had been more interested in feasting on her. He’d been beset by an all-consuming hunger which craved the primitive joining of his body with the sweetness of her flesh.

“I wish to see all of your splendour, Lisette,” he rasped through thickened vocal cords. “Uncover yourself for me.”

The rise and fall of her chest was shallow as her gaze locked with his. Her lush lips parted on a short, swift inhalation. “I am at your command, my lord.”

Her hands edged the bed linen down slowly. ’Twas the cruellest yet sweetest torment he’d experienced. When she exposed the lush mounds of her breasts with their raspberry whorled tips, every drop of his life’s blood had surely drained south to pool in his loins. Such was the potency of her effect on him, his genitals swelled and pulsed in arousal.

Mouth dry, his own breathing shallow, he could bear it no longer. Moving to kneel on the soft mattress beside her, Rowan bent to pay homage to first one and then the other tautly-budded nipple with his mouth. Nuzzling her warm flesh he smelled the delicious womanly scent of her and longed to taste her. His tongue darted out to the rosy tip of one of her nipples, revelling in the feel of her soft firm flesh. Flesh which would provide sustenance for the child she carried. Control of his more base needs was sorely tested as he whirled his tongue around the firmly beaded nipple and delivered light, teasing flicks while she trembled with reaction.

The sharp mewling sound of her pleasure had him releasing some of the tension on the reins that leashed his passion. He drew one distended nipple sharply into his mouth and control snapped as he gorged himself hungrily. Surely her breast was sweeter than any exotic fruit plucked from Eden. ’Twas delicious. Mindless pleasure seeped through him. He laved and sucked voraciously.

Her body tightened and she was taut as the string of an archer’s bow before the arrow was released. She gripped him, her fingernails scoring the skin of his shoulders. The slight pain was worth it when he felt her body arch beneath him, her nipple thrusting forward further into his mouth before her whole body trembled and she called out in feverish need as she was buffeted by wave after wave of climactic sensation. Her soft sigh of contentment as her body finally stilled was sweet music to his ears. Never had he known such a responsive lover.

Releasing her nipple reluctantly, Rowan trailed kisses across her breast, over the smooth skin of her cleavage and up along her collarbone until he reached the sensitive spot at the curve of her uninjured shoulder. He raised his head and regarded her flushed features. The wonder in her face filled him with pure masculine satisfaction and his shaft longed to be buried inside her.

“I had no idea...” Her voice was full of awe.

“That, my lady, is why you have a husband.”

Sitting up, he pulled back the bed linen to reveal her full naked glory. All breath was sucked from his lungs as he drank in her form with reverent appreciation. His chest tightened as his gaze swept down over her narrow waist, delicately rounded hips and the patch of dark blond curls guarding the place where his flesh would soon join with hers.

Lisette had long, shapely legs. A mental image of her angling her pelvis so her smooth, firm thighs framed his hips and she could take him deeper into her body caused him to release his breath sharply and swallow hard.

“You are a vision of beauty, Lisette.”

“If my memory serves me you are the epitome of masculine perfection, my lord,” she returned. “Yet,” she frowned in a slightly exaggerated fashion, “unless I am able to behold your nakedness again, I may believe I have merely built a fantasy in my dreams.”

Rowan threw his head back and laughed richly at her boldness. This spirited woman appeared to have lost all her reservation after just one night in his bed. ’Twas definitely time to introduce her to the artistry of a more sensual form of lovemaking.

“I am a knight bound by sacred oath to be courteous at all times to a lady. If you find my state of dress in your presence discourteous, I am obliged to adjust that status forthwith.”

“Aye.” Her eyes gleamed with merry mischief as she enjoyed this flirtation. “I find your clothing most unsatisfactory.” She tilted her head to one side and shook her head. “Mayhap a state of undress would be far more appropriate in this situation.”

Smiling broadly he began unfastening the buckle of his belt. “Forgive me, my lady. I did not intend to offend. Thankfully this is a situation I can rectify quickly.”

Never had Rowan disrobed so fast.              

Standing naked before her, he watched her stare at the rod which rose from its dark bed of curls like a proud and determined lance ready to strike.

She drew a shaky breath. “You are, indeed, as magnificent as I remember.”

Moving toward her, he took her hand and guided it so her fingers wrapped around the object of her fascination. “Do I feel as you remember?”

“’Tis like a tempered steel rod, yet it pulses with life,” she told him in enthralled tones. “’Tis so hard, yet the skin is so soft.”

His hand firmed on hers, encouraging her to squeeze his width. When she began to stroke up and down his length of her own volition his breath caught audibly.

“Does it hurt?” Wide, ocean-blue eyes flew to his.

“It burns to be inside you,” he told her raggedly.

He could tolerate no more and removed her hands lest she unman him with her touch. He reached out and allowed his hands to skim over her breasts lightly. Following the path his eyes had travelled, he traced the indentation of her waist, paused over her still-flat abdomen then stroked through the nest of her silky curls, coaxing her to fall completely under his spell. ’Twas difficult to resist lingering in that spot, but he willed his hands to leave that soft patch of her woman’s down without more intimate exploration so his touch could trail up over her hipbones. Then his hands swept down over her thighs, past the curve of her knee and along the firm length of her calf. Holding her foot by its heel he noted the high instep and began kneading there with his calloused hands.             

“The visual and tactile journey has been a delight. Now, my lady, I wish to savour every inch of your delectable flesh with my mouth.”

He saw her slight confusion and knew his wife was still innocent in so many ways. She knew not what his full intentions were. The thought of teaching her all he knew thrilled him. Bending her leg a fraction, his mouth fastened hotly against the flesh of her calf and he began working his way up her inner leg, massaging her leg with his hands above the spots where his mouth feasted.

Finally he reached closer to his intended destination. His hands encouraged her thighs further apart to make room for his head.

“My lord! What are you doing?” There was genuine horror in her question.

“Hush, my lady. I mean only to bring you joy.”

“I don’t understand.” Her eyes were huge and troubled.

“You will, my sweet temptress, but first you must trust me.”

A battle waged within her. Uncertainty was still clear in her features, but she bit her lip and gave him a small nod.

“Just lie back and relax. Don’t think. Just feel,” he instructed.

The evocative scent of her arousal teased him as he separated her swollen folds and sought the sensitive bud which nestled beneath her damp, silky curls. She moved restlessly, quivering under his caress of the fleshy, distended bead of her womanhood. Grasping her hips firmly, he tilted her pelvis so that the very cradle of her femininity was opened up to him, ready for him to lavish her with the pleasurable intimate, erotic probe of his tongue.