Page 13 of A Knight To Call My Own
He waited for what she could possibly offer as guidance, but she only continued to stare at him, as though waiting for him to possibly come to the same conclusion on his own. He could not stand the silence any longer and at last spoke up. “And what exactly should I do to earn the lady’s heart?”
“There’s only one thing you need to do, Ian, and it’s really quite simple.”
“And what is that, my lady?” he asked in puzzlement.
She gave him a sly smile whilst her eyes twinkled mischievously. Laughing, she at last gave him his answer. “You must win!”
Chapter Eight
Rolf stood silentlyon the narrow parapet, gazing into the darkness of the night. He could not see far enough to espy the vast ocean, but he could hear the sound of the surf pounding ruthlessly into the shore far below him. Normally, such a sound would fill him with wonder at the power of the sea, but not this eve. Tonight, he was ill at ease on what the coming days would bring, or not bring, should he fail in his quest. He still held a small sum of hope that Kenna’s vision would not come to pass.
He did not have to turn his sight far to witness the goings on of life at camp. Tents filled the area surrounding Berwyck’s walls of those who also hoped to win the fair Lynet. The smell of campfire smoke and the fire light from the torches on the battlement walls filled the air. The fumes and smells made his nose twitch, causing him to sneeze. Muffled laughter and speech was barely audible from those who were still awake, each man bragging of his own singular prowess, and how he, too, would have the young bride at the end of the games.
He lifted his head heaven bound to stare at the thousands of stars splashing across the moonlit sky. Closing his eyes, he gave a silent plea God would answer his request. ’Twas a heartfelt prayer he offered up to the heavens, and yet as Rolf gazed once more upon the open skies above him, he felt nothing giving evidence that his petitions would be met. Apparently God did not make bargains with mortal men when it came to falling in love and what the heart desired…more is the pity.
Hearing the hinges of the turret door squeak open, Rolf turned to see who would be coming up to the rooftop at such a late hour. Most had already made their way to their chambers hours ago to rest afore the games began. Slumber, however, eluded Rolf, especially when he was wound so tight. The games could not begin soon enough for him to take out his frustration upon the field.
A splash of wispy material caught his attention when the unmistakable figure of a woman appeared through the turret portal. The instant she emerged from the shelter of the doorway, a gusty breeze caught her gown, and all but floated around the vision afore his eyes. ’Twas almost as if God himself had sent him an angel in answer to his appeal. She attempted to gather the garment around her and at last made some progress when she pulled a tartan around her head, clutching the plaid at her breasts.
Rolf watched her progress across the battlement walls with interest. His placement concealed in the shadows, she obviously did not see him standing on the parapet. So engrossed was she to reach the wall herself, she stumbled, letting out a startled gasp when her foot caught on the last step. Crying out in alarm, she began to sprawl face forward, causing Rolf to swiftly close the remaining distance between them. He caught the young girl in his arms afore any harm could befall her.
Her flowery scent was the first thing to assault his senses, and he did not need to see her face to know just whom he held in his arms. His limbs seemed to have a life of their own as they offered her the support she stood in need of as she regained her balance. He took a step nearer ’til both her hands came up and pushed hard against his chest. He stood firm in his resolve to keep her at his side. His hands slid to her waist as he inched her even closer into his embrace.
“How dare you,” she shrieked in outrage. Her face rose to meet his ’til recognition set in. “Rolf?”
“Good eve to you, Lynet.”
“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
He gave an amused chuckle. “I could ask you the same question. Perchance, could you not sleep, either?”
“Nay, I could not, and my chamber was stifling. I had enough of my tossing and turning. I decided I needed some fresh air.”
“I understand your plight completely, my lady.” Rolf watched her face whilst she apparently came to the realization he was holding her far too close. Her hands moved from his chest and went instead to his arms.
“You should not be holding me thusly. ’Tis not seemly. What would someone think if they came upon us?”
“Mayhap, they would think there was no longer any need for a tourney and your hand was already spoken for,” Rolf murmured. There was no mistaking the feeling of contentment that was racing through him whilst holding her close. “There is no need to worry about the guards, for they are busy at their watch, so they will pay us no mind. Besides, I believe I like the way you feel in my arms and would like to keep you here as long as you would allow it.”
A small smile lit her lips. “I should return to my chamber,” she whispered softly, and yet, she made no effort to leave. Instead, she began caressing the fabric of his tunic.
“Stay with me,” he insisted.
Lynet gave the briefest of hesitations afore replying. “Only for a moment or two, but then, I must depart.”
Rolf gladly seized the opportunity she granted him and turned Lynet so her back rested against his chest whilst they peacefully stared out towards the sea. She gave a brief sigh. He interpreted such a sound as one of pleasure, for the scene between them was one of intimacy two lovers might share at some midnight rendezvous. He tightened his arms around her waist and forced, to the back of his mind, the uncanny premonition the felt that this would be the only time he would ever hold this woman in his arms.
The silence stretched between them whilst both were lost in their own thoughts. Rolf’s were about the coming days of battle and strategic maneuvers necessary in order for him to win each competition. He could only surmise Lynet’s were filled with horrific images of who she may be forced to wed at the completion of the games. As if her thoughts were spoken aloud, he felt her shiver and knew ’twas not from the cool night air.
“Lynet,” he quietly broke the quietness surrounding them, “about the morrow…”
She quickly turned to face him, bringing her fingertips up against his lips. “Shh…please do not speak of it, Rolf, I beg of you.”
Taking her hand in his, he began to caress it with his thumb. “We may not have another opportunity to have speech, my lady, and therefore, I feel the urgency to speak my mind.”
“I do not know what more can be said that has not already been spoken between us. I cannot bear the thought of the coming days, nor how I will manage to endure through this farce that determines my life.”
“I only wish I had spoken sooner to Lord Dristan. Mayhap, none of this would be happening if I had done so.”
