Page 6 of A Knight To Call My Own
He felt as though his boots were filled with a hundred stones, for his tread was heavy with trepidation. Every step drew him nearer to her side, and yet the closer he came to her, the further he felt her slipping from his grasp. Lynet must have felt his presence, for, when he came to stand in front of her, she raised her tear streaked face to his. His breath caught in his chest to see the anguish she was feeling. ’Twas obvious her meeting with Dristan had not gone well.
He held out his hand to her and she took it with no hesitation. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, as she began drying her face with her sleeve.
“Anywhere…as long as we can have a private word together,” he ordered roughly, still feeling the effects of Kenna’s premonition that Lynet would never be his.
Her hand in his, Rolf’s mind flew in a hundred directions where he might find some form of concealment for them and still ensure Lynet’s reputation remained unscathed. There were not many choices in a castle the size of Berwyck. The best place would be her chamber, but his sense of chivalry surpassed the need for discretion. He settled for the stable, although, ’twas hardly the optimal location for the discussion he had in mind.
The moment he closed the door, he immediately turned to her, placing his uninjured arm upon the wood so she could not escape his reach. He was daring much, but he was tired of watching her from afar.
“What is amiss?” he finally demanded of her when the silence continued to stretch on between them.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she stifled back a cry. “Everything!” she answered hotly. “My life, as I have known it, is over, Rolf.”
“Surely you exaggerate. It could not be as bad as that, Lynet.”
She looked at him with startled eyes. He realized he had at last spoken her given name, as if the two of them had already come to an understanding between themselves.
“You have no idea what has happened,” she declared, clearly miserable with whatever was tormenting her.
“Then tell me what has you so upset. I do not like to see your tears,” he said softly. Her lips parted, and for the briefest of moments, Rolf thought of bending down to taste her kiss. Their eyes met and were held to one another. He began to lean forward, but she must have known where his thoughts were taking him.
She ducked underneath his arm, and, sadly he watched whilst she distanced herself from him. She went to a nearby stall and supported her arms against the door. “Where do I start?” she cried out in her misery as she laid her head down on her arms.
“You start at the beginning, my lady, where every story commences.”
Anger flashed in her tear filled eyes. “He means to auction me off to the highest bidder, Rolf!”
He was surprised at her words, for they were so unexpected. He closed the space between them ’til he stood behind her. He took her arm and turned her. She refused to look at him, ’til he took his fingers and raised her face. “What nonsense is this you speak of?”
“’Tis Dristan. He proposes a tourney, and the winner will become my husband. How can he do this to me?”
He swore. She did, as well, ’til her face fell in frustration. Throwing herself into his arms, she began to cry in earnest. ’Twas the last thing he expected, and yet, it seemed the most natural thing in the world when he gathered her into his embrace. She fit there so perfectly, or so he thought, whilst he began whispering words to comfort her.
“Would you favor my suit?” The words left him in a sudden sense of urgency to hold on to the hope, as long as he was able, that Lynet could be his. He felt her jerk against his chest. She began to hastily disengage herself from his arms.
“He has already said he would not grant you permission to pursue my hand, Rolf.”
“Could you come to care for me, Lynet? I have enough coin and you would want for nothing I assure you.” Her mouth moved wordlessly whilst she seemed to try to find some form of response. Mayhap, Kenna was right, and Lynet was not for him. “Forgive me. ’Twas unfair for me to ask such of you, especially when I bear no title.”
She shook her glorious mane of blonde hair, and he watched as it swirled around her head. “’Tis not that I do not care for you, Rolf. ’Tis just that, ’til most recently, I never thought of you in any way other than as my captain.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” she almost begged him with her eyes to recognize what she was going through. “It matters not how with time I may have come to form some affection for you in my heart, Rolf. Our Lord Dristan will never allow our relationship to be other than what it is, a captain to guard his lady. Nothing more…nothing less.”
“I will make him see reason-”
She held up her hand to silence his words. “’Tis impossible, and I dare not give even the smallest measurement of hope you could steer Lord Dristan from his course regarding the path my life will now lead. I will wed, and ’twill be to a man not of my choosing. ’Tis not for me to find true love and a knight to call my own.”
Lynet sobbed, and, afore he could halt her with a kind word, she ran from the stables. Rolf let her go, but in doing so, he pledged to himself he would do all in his power to change Dristan’s mind. ’Twas either that, or run away with Lynet. Even as the thought fleetingly swept across his mind, Rolf could feel the scorching heat from the Devil’s Dragon leveling on his form. Dristan would follow him to hell and back for daring such an offense. He would not be lenient for taking such a liberty with his charge, no matter the feelings Rolf had for her. There must be another way than to infuriate his liege lord and still have Lynet as his bride, he mused. The alternative would not be a good way to die.
Chapter Five
Ian reined in his horseand took in the sight afore his eyes. He never thought he would miss a place as much as this fortress he had called his home for many a year. He felt his companions come abreast of him as they awaited him to move on, yet still, he bided his time and drank in the view in front of him.
Berwyck Castle…mayhap, ’twas not the physical place he had yearned for, but rather, those who resided within its protective walls. He rested his forearm on the pommel of his saddle like some melancholy lad in his youth. But he cared not what the other men thought of him whilst he took a moment unto himself.
