Tender is the Knight (3 page)

Dennis
was very quickly naked from the waist up, perfectly comfortable in the freezing temperature. His shoulders were exceedingly broad and well-shaped, his skin lightly tanned from years of sword-playing under the sun. He impatiently motioned for Riston to hand over the lady, whose dress was half-off her shoulders by now. The knight gently transferred her weight to Dennis, who continued to undress her as Riston went in search of Clive.

The dead trees provided some privacy as
Dennis finished stripping her dress and freed it from her small feet. She had on soft woolen undergarments, leaving very little for his fertile imagination; she was a small woman with an enormously attractive figure.  Her breasts were ripe and full, her stomach small and flat, and her hips flared into a round, sensual shape. 

He was growing more enchanted by the moment, thinking that if the information
were not correct and she was not, in fact, his wife to be, he would seriously consider taking her back to St Austell as his mistress. He’d never even had a mistress before. But this delicious young lady was simply too good to pass by.

But all of his lust would be in vain if he
did not keep her alive. Ripping off her woolen sheath and leaving only her thick hose, he pulled her naked body against his searing torso. When their skin touched, he swore he’d never in his life felt anything so wonderful. The amazing sensation literally took his breath away and he paused, fighting to compose himself. Then, using her heavy gown and sheath, he wrapped the two of them together tightly and waited for his squire to arrive. But in truth, with his arms wrapped around the woman, he did not care if his squire ever came or not. The entire world could pass him by and he would be perfectly content to stay as he was, forever.

Forcing his feelings at bay, the first thing he was aware of other than her cold skin was how much difficulty she was having catching her breath. Every exhale wheezed and rattled, and every inhale seemed like pure torture. It took him very little time at all to realize she was having serious trouble breathing and he began rubbing her back, not knowing what else to do, in an attempt to ease her congestion.

Riston returned to find his liege holding a naked woman with an expression on his face that the young knight had never seen before. He felt as if he was intruding. “Dennis,” he said hesitantly. “Clive has been sent for the blankets as requested.”

“And the other woman?”

“I sent her back with Clive,” he said. “There are fifty soldiers to watch over her.” He moved closer to the pair, gazing at the unconscious, gasping woman. “She is seriously ill.”

Dennis
’ jaw was against her forehead. “I know,” he said quietly. “Her breathing is much labored.”

Riston nodded, his usually self-assured nature subdued. “My brother suffered from the same ailment.”

“How did he treat it?”

“With camphor and peppermint until he died.”

Dennis cocked a concerned eyebrow and Riston held up a soothing hand. “He died in battle a few years ago,” he said. “At Flint Castle in Wales. Remember?”

Dennis
nodded his head. “Ah, yes. An uprising against the king, as I recall.”

“A minor skirmish that took my only brother,” Riston’s blue eyes reflected sorrow for a brief moment. “At any rate, I believe we have some oil of Peppermint in the provisions wagon. If we boil some water, she could inhale the vapors.”

To both their surprise, the woman in Dennis’ arms suddenly stirred. “Pep… peppermint,” she said groggily, her voice hoarse. “I shall… I shall not breathe it, do you hear? And you cannot force me!”

The top of her amber-colored head smashed into
Dennis’ jaw and he grunted. “Hold still, my lady. You must not exert yourself.”

She appeared not to hear him, still twitching about. After a moment, her head lolled back and her eyes slowly opened. She gazed at him, unfocused, and
Dennis met her gaze steadily. Her eyes were the most amazing golden-brown he had ever seen.

“You…
you are not my father,” she muttered, her delicate brow furrowing in confusion. “Who are you?”

“Someone who means you no harm, my lady.”

Her sweet lips, blue that they were, frowned. “You d…did not answer me. What is your name?”

“
Dennis.”

She blinked. Her chest, struggling for air, seemed to rise and fall faster. It was a supreme effort for
Dennis not to watch her succulent breasts as they heaved against his flesh.

“
Dennis?” she repeated.

He nodded, once. He found himself studying every inch of her angelic face as her eyes, so incredible in color, darkened.

They darkened for a good reason; Ryan wasn’t stupid. There weren’t many men in Cornwall named Dennis. Her mind was foggy and her chest was painfully constricted, but still she could think.

“
D’ Vant?” she whispered. “Dennis d’ Vant?”

He nodded again, once, watching with amusement as
Ryan’s eyes widened so big that he thought they might burst from her skull. But he could see the squall coming and before he could quell it, she shoved her palms against his chin and propelled herself from his grip. But in that brief instant she realized she was without a stitch of clothing on except for her hose, and she howled in horror at her state. Her crimson gown and woolen sheath lay on the freezing ground and she swooped to her knees, picking them up and wrapping them haphazardly about her nakedness.

  “You… you fiend!” she panted and gasped, the color of embarrassment flushing her pale cheeks.
“My clothes! What have you done to me?”

Dennis
struggled not to laugh. “My lady, you were nearly frozen when we happened upon you and your hysterical companion. The quickest way to warm you was to apply heat in the most direct way possible, flesh to flesh. And I see that it has worked.”

She noticed that he too was naked from the waist up. She
did not know why she hadn’t noticed their naked state before this.  Had she not been so embarrassed and furious, she would have realized he was absolutely magnificent; his torso was trim and muscular, covered in a fine matting of blond hair. His shoulders, wider than a door, were attached to equally enormous arms, now casually crossed.

“You… you had no right,” she breathed. “No right at all!”

His humor faded and he cocked an eyebrow, going in search of his tunic. “Your outrage is misplaced.”

“It is not!”

He pulled the woolen garment over his head, running his fingers through his straight blond hair to push it out of his eyes. “Lady Ryan Elizabeth De Bretagne, you know as well as I that it is my right to do with you as I please.” He watched her expression flicker with horror. “You are to be my wife. By all rights and God’s law, you are already my property.”

Her indignation was replaced by a genuine sorrow. Strangely, he realized that her fear of him disturbed him. In truth, he expected nothing else considering the
circumstances, but still, he realized he was bothered. He did not want her to fear him.

“You… you know who I am,” she said softly.

“I do.” In truth, he’d still refused to believe until this moment. But he felt an odd satisfaction now that she had confirmed the rumor. In fact, he was damn pleased now that he thought on it.

Ryan
, too, was thinking, but very different thoughts. She did not know what more to say. She could hardly believe Dennis d’ Vant had found her.

“
Where is Lyla?”

“Lady Lyla is well enough,”
Dennis said as he reached to the ground for his helm. “She is being watched over by my men and perfectly safe.”

Ryan
was feeling faint again. She closed her eyes at the realization that she and Lyla were in the custody of Dennis d’ Vant, swaying as she did so. Dennis knew she was still in a great deal of distress.

“My lady, if you will allow me to assist you,” he said, somewhat less harshly. “Your lungs require treatment. Sir Riston has informed me that we may have oil of Peppermint in our
.…”

“No!” she shook her head. “I cannot tolerate it.”

“You would rather gasp for every breath?”

She ignored him. Her golden brown eyes opened and she gazed up into the gray, foreboding sky above. It was difficult not to notice the forming tears.

“At this moment,” she whispered, “I think that I would rather die.”

She pitched forward and struck her head before
Dennis could catch her.

CHAPTER TWO

The fire in the hearth popped softly, the only sound filling the dim and fragrant room. Though three men sat in various positions around the crescent-shaped solar of Launceston, no one was talking. They all seemed to be staring at other things, and sometimes each other, but no one possessed a tongue.

Even the earl; he could make sounds, clear his throat or sigh heavily, but speech so far had evaded him. He knew what needed to be done; he and Thomas had been discussing the dissuasion of Dennis d’ Vant for the past two days. To attempt to remove Ryan as the offering in the marriage contract would be a tricky thing. Obviously, she was so resistant to the union that she would risk her life to evade it and it was now up to the earl to sweeten the deal so that Ryan would never be missed.

He stared at
Dennis in cold, calculating silence until the hush grew oppressive.

“Sir
Dennis,” he finally said. “I am sure you know why we have called this gathering. ‘Twould seem we have matters to discuss.”

Dennis
sat near the elaborate hearth, his gray eyes intense on the Earl of Cornwall. His face was stubbled, his pallor somewhat pale from the lack of sleep over the past two days. He and his men had been camped outside of the walls of Launceston in perhaps the worst storm he had seen in a great while. They were all soaked to the skin, cold and weary of the idleness.

I
n truth, camping peaceably on enemy grounds was a strange experience for the battle-hardened St. Austell soldiers. But Dennis would not move from where they sat. There was something inside the keep he wanted a great deal and would be damned if he was going to leave without it.

“Matters indeed, my lord,” he said after a moment. “What would those be?”

Richard’s brown eyes were dark-rimmed. He gazed at Dennis, seeing so much physical resemblance of Rodrick in the man, yet sensing a reasonability his father had never possessed. Whereas Rodrick fought his battles at the top of his lungs or by the edge of his sword, already in two days’ time Richard could see that Dennis did not possess such a loud, obnoxious manner. Indeed, his brooding, calculating quietness was far more disturbing in the earl’s opinion.  He could not tell what the man was thinking, and that caused him great disquiet.

“I believe that should be obvious, young
d’ Vant,” the earl replied. “The marriage contract must be altered.”

Dennis
’ expression did not waver. “And why is that, my lord?”

Near the long lancet window, now covered in an oilcloth to keep out the rain, Thomas let out a blustery sigh. It was difficult for the knight to keep his emotions in check.

“Because my daughter is ill, for Christ’s sake,” he burst. “She will be lucky to survive the night and I, for one, an unwilling to see her through this sickness to immediately turn her over to an unwelcome marriage.”

Dennis
’ gaze was unwavering. The man could positively bore holes with his icy stare. “I understand your concern, my lord. But the contract I initiated is binding. Health or no, Lady Ryan belongs to me.”

“This is not a prize to be won, Sir
Dennis. We are speaking of my daughter.”

“You need
not remind me whom we are speaking of, my lord. I know all too well.”

Thomas’ face grew red and the veins on his temples throbbed. “
Do not be like a bulldog with a bone, boy,” he rumbled. “I shall rip it from your mouth before you can blink.”

Dennis
cocked a slow eyebrow. “It will remain to be seen who can rip what from whom, my lord.”

Before Thomas could explode, Richard rose from his cushioned chair and held up a hand to him. Silence was only one non-verbal request; the plea not to charge the much larger, much stronger knight was another. Truly, an unbalanced father was a volatile creature and Richard was well aware of the fact.
Richard fixed his gaze on Dennis.

“Surely you know that Lady
Ryan was attempting to flee this contract, which is why you found her wandering in the countryside.” Richard wasn’t about to pull any tricks with this one; d’ Vant was far too cunning and the only way to deal with him was raw reason. “For a woman to go to such great lengths to avoid a marriage, I would dare not force her to go through with this. Instead of running away the next time, she could very well do something drastic.”

Dennis
listened patiently. Then he turned to Thomas. “Would your daughter do something drastic, my lord?”

Thomas was staring at the
floor, trying to calm himself. He knew, in spite of his own uncontrolled emotions, that Dennis was trying to paint him into a corner with his question. 

“I do not know,” he said, though he did not look at him. “I never thought she would escape her third floor bower and run off, but she did.”

“Would she harm herself in any way?”

Of course she
would not. Ryan wasn’t the type. Thomas closed his eyes and shook his head.

“She would not,” he said softly. “
She is headstrong, but not foolish.”

Dennis
cocked an eyebrow. “I would say she is both, my lord. ‘Twas I who found her in the middle of a frozen meadow - not you.”

It was an insult, but it was also the truth. Thomas turned away, pacing the cold floor of the solar, wondering how on earth he was going to help his daughter against
Dennis d’ Vant. From the moment the knight brought her back to Launceston, cradled in his arms as if she was his most prized possession, it was apparent the man had no intention of letting her go. Before he could say anything more, however, Dennis stood up so quickly that Thomas actually started.

“I appreciate your concerns, my lords, but you must trust me when I tell you that Lady
Ryan will be perfectly safe and comfortable as my wife.” He looked pointedly at Thomas. “You will do me the honor, sir, of ceasing your attempts to back out of the marriage contract. I find your stalling tactics both insulting and unnecessary, for I have no intention of changing my mind or allowing you the indulgence to change yours.  Should you persist, I shall be forced to bring the matter up before a papal council for their determination as to whether or not this contract is binding in my favor.”

Richard stared at him before turning away, but not before both
Dennis and Thomas caught a smile on his face. Dennis had no idea what was so funny, but Thomas thought, knowing the earl as well as he did, that perhaps Richard was enjoying the confrontation.

“Let us cut to the
heart of the matter, Sir Dennis,” Richard said in a tone that encouraged no foolishness. “No man enacts a marriage entirely for peace. You had other reasons, did you not?”

“What other reasons do you suggest, my lord?”

Richard sat down behind his desk once more, wrapping his elegant robes about him against the chill of the room. He gazed at Dennis, his droopy-eyed appearance concealing his razor sharp mind. He had no intention of letting this knight, however wise and persuasive, best him. He was determined to prove his theory.

“I suggest that years of fighting ha
ve bankrupted St. Austell,” he said frankly. “I further suggest that you proposed this marriage to gain the capital to repair your fortress and salvage this derelict legacy your father has left you. Am I wrong so far?”

Dennis
did not falter. “You are, my lord.”

Richard was enjoying this. “I am?” he cocked an eyebrow and chuckled. “I think not. Let me prove my point by saying that instead of the ill and resistant Lady
Ryan, I shall commit to you one of my very own nieces with a sizable fortune attached. You will be related to the crown by marriage, a most appealing prospect, entitling you to crown support and other privileges. Am I still wrong in my assumptions?”

“You are, my lord.”

“Do you mean to say that a bride of royal blood with a substantial dowry is hardly as attractive as a mere woman of noble breeding with an average endowment?”

“I am saying exactly that.”

“God’s Blood,
why
?”

“I have my reasons, my lord.”

Richard sat forward sharply, the enjoyment of his game fading as he realized Sir Dennis was not conceding in the least. The man was stubborn as hell. “Then I shall take away Lady Ryan’s dowry and you will still have to marry her, you obstinate bastard,” he slapped his hand on the table. “Is she still more attractive than a royal bride?”

“She outshines the sun, my lord. I would take her with absolutely nothing to her name.”

Richard was growing a bit red in the face. He opened his mouth again but this time, Thomas stopped him. “A moment, please, my lord,” he looked at Dennis, far calmer than he had been earlier. In fact, his expression was almost kind; how could he not soften when Dennis’ opinions of Ryan were so flattering. He could not figure out why this knight was so determined to have her at first; now he was coming to understand somewhat. It was quite simple, actually; Sir Dennis was attracted to Ryan and his resolve to have her was unwavering.

In fact, Thomas seemed to remember a moment in time when his own resolve to have a woman nearly cost him everything.
Ryan’s mother, the Lady Eliza de Moray, had caught his eye in the very same fashion many years ago in the midst of the king’s court. He would have done anything to have her and very nearly did. Thomas had never known more determination, so perhaps at this moment, he understood Dennis d’ Vant better than anyone.

He stood in front of
Dennis, his dark eyes studying the man; it was very true that he was not at all like his father. Thomas had enough sense to realize that. The knight before him was intelligent, far more in control of himself, and seemed to possess a gentleness that he tried desperately to hide behind his stoic expression. Thomas could only imagine that Rodrick d’ Vant would not tolerate gentleness of any kind, especially from his own son. He felt himself relenting, ever so slightly.

“You would take her without a dowry?” he asked.

Dennis gazed back at him steadily. “I would, my lord.”

“Why?”

It was the first time since their conversation began that Dennis seemed to hesitate. It wasn’t so much his expression as the flicker in his stormy gray eyes. “Because she intrigues me, my lord.”

“And
if I refuse to turn her over to you?”

“I lay siege to Launceston and burn it to the ground.”

“All that for a woman?”

“All that and more.”

“But why?” Thomas wasn’t trying to be confrontational; he truly wanted to know. “What is it you see in my daughter that would make you do this?”

Dennis
gazed at him. He wasn’t sure how to answer, or where to begin for that matter. “I see strength in her. It is appealing.”

“And she is beautiful.”

“The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

“
She is the most headstrong a woman you will ever see, too.”

The corner of
Dennis’ lips twitched. “Forgive me, my lord, but you simply do not know how to handle her.”

“Is that so?”

“It ‘tis.”

“And you would lay a siege for a headstrong, stubborn woman?”

“I would do it gladly.”

Thomas stared at him a long, long time. Richard thought there might be swords drawn at any moment. But after an eternal, uncertain moment, Thomas broke into a wide, dingy-toothed smile. He understood the man completely and the arrogant statement was more than a challenge. He
could not explain his sudden like for the massive, stubborn man. But the thought that perhaps Ryan had finally met her match filled him with delight.

“Lad,” he said slowly. “If she survives this night, she will be yours.”

The climax came so quickly that Dennis felt as if the rug had suddenly been pulled out from under him. No deals to be struck, no more argument. Thomas seemed satisfied, though he was grinning like an idiot, and the earl merely remained silent. Before they changed their mind, he excused himself from the solar. By the time he hit the corridor, his smile fairly split his face in two.

He had someone to see.

***

The door was unlocked.
Dennis lifted the old iron latch, listening to the door squeak on its hinges as he slowly opened it. The chamber beyond was dark but for the embers in the hearth, and there was a strange, pungent smell upon the air. Carefully, he took a step in.

“Halt!”
Came a small, female voice. “You will not enter this chamber!”

Lyla was standing beside a large, heavy-framed bed against the far wall. It took
Dennis no time at all to see there was a figure lying upon the bed, covered in mounds of feather-filled linens. Ryan’s faced was turned away from him so he could not see if she was sleeping or awake; still, he held up his hands to prove he was no threat.

“I come peaceably, my lady,” he assured her. “My only intention is to see how my bride is faring.”

“
Your
bride?” Lyla sniffed. There was a small dagger on the stand beside the bed, a table bleeding of smoking bowls and other strange things. Lyla wielded the dagger like a trophy. “Get out or you shall find this in your gullet!”