Read The Knight Online

Authors: Monica McCarty

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Medieval, #Scottish, #Historical Romance, #Fiction

The Knight (11 page)

Nothing you can do to make it better? His sister’s certainty gave him a moment’s doubt, but he pushed it aside. Joanna was hurting, grieving the loss of their child, but she loved him. She would understand that he hadn’t abandoned her. If he’d known, he would have found a way to be there. “She told you about the babe?”

Beth shook her head. “She was brought here after the accident by Sir David Lindsay. Thommy and I overheard the healer telling our stepmother.”

Bloody hell.

Seeing his expression, Beth shook her head. “You need not worry on our stepmother’s account, your secret is safe. She has no more interest in seeing you wed Jo than you do. She informed the healer that if anyone else heard of this child, she would see her thrown in the nearest pit prison and condemned as a heretic.”

James repressed a shiver. He didn’t doubt it. Eleanor de Lovaine had a spine of steel. Her interest in seeing James rise in the king’s estimation—and thus raising the status of her two sons, James and Elizabeth’s half brothers Archie and Hugh—was equal only to his own.

His eyes narrowed. “What did Lindsay have to do with this?”

Sir David Lindsay had recently succeeded to his father Alexander’s barony of Crawford, which wasn’t far from Douglas. Alexander had been a close adherent of Bruce’s, as was his son. With his father’s death, Lindsay had been at Tower Lindsay seeing to the estates for the past few months.

“He was riding with some of his men to find you and ran into her, causing the fall.” James tensed with fury, but before he could say anything, she pulled him back. “It was an accident. Jo tore out of here like the devil was chasing her. I ran after her and saw the whole thing. She practically ran right into Sir David’s horse. There was nothing he could have done to avoid her. He was distraught and refused to leave until she recovered.”

James felt some of the tension subside. Some but not all. He made Elizabeth tell him everything. Every injury, every long hour of Jo’s recovery, every week she’d spent in bed, the weeks after when she’d returned to her parents’ house, and then the short conversation where she’d told Elizabeth she was leaving. What Elizabeth didn’t tell him, but what he heard anyway, was of Jo’s deep sorrow and grief. Every word dug the knife of guilt deeper and deeper into his heart.

“How could you, Jamie? How could you dishonor her like that, knowing you would not marry her?”

It was one thing to hear it from Thom, and another to hear it from the young sister who’d always looked up to him as if he were the greatest knight in Christendom.

“I thought…” He dragged his fingers through his hair again. Christ, there was no excuse. He’d just thought she understood.

But he would make it up to her—as soon as he found her. He turned and started out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Elizabeth said.

“To Hazelside to speak to her father. He’ll know where she has gone.”

“And you think he will tell you?” Elizabeth laughed, though it was without humor. “Her parents might not know all the details, but they know something terrible happened and that you are to blame. They will not tell you anything. Nor should they. She left Douglas so she wouldn’t be reminded of you and what she lost. If you go after her, you will only bring it all back.”

“I have to find her. Christ, Beth, I love her.”

He had to explain—to apologize. He hadn’t been there for her when she needed him, and he would never forgive himself for that. But Jo would. She was the sweetest, kindest, most wonderful woman he’d ever met, and her heart was as big as the sun.

His young sister looked at him with wisdom far beyond her years. “She is trying to make a new start for herself, Jamie. If you truly love her, you will leave her in peace.”

He did love her, but he couldn’t do that. For he knew that without her, he would never have a moment‘s happiness. They belonged together. Never did he doubt that for a minute.

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

Jo felt her mouth twitch. The twitch became impossible to control and all at once she burst into laughter. Real, honest-to-goodness laughter. It had been so long, she had begun to wonder whether she’d ever feel the urge to laugh again.

But it seemed she would and maybe that was all right.

The loss of her baby would be with her always, but Joanna had survived. Although at the time she hadn’t understood why. She’d blamed herself. All she could remember was wishing that James hadn’t gotten her with child right before falling, and the horrible fear that God had listened to her prayer.

But she hadn’t meant it, and God would know that. It had been an accident. A horrible, painful accident. But it had made her stronger—and it had chased the last few stars from her eyes. Tragedy had a way of forcing reality upon you, and she could see now all the mistakes she’d made and vowed to never make again.

It was with a far clearer vision of the harsh realities of the world that Joanna glanced up at the man beside her. It was hard to picture him chasing after a tiny piglet only to be knocked in the backside into the mud by the irritated sow, but his telling of yesterday’s misadventure had pulled the laughter from her chest and put a little joy back in her heart. She thanked him for it. She had much to thank him for.

“Ah, it is good to hear you laugh like that, lass.” His dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “Though I do wish it hadn’t been at my expense.”

He was an easy man to like, Sir David Lindsay. Handsome, kind, and with the kind of solid strength that made her feel safe.

She smiled back at him. “I would apologize, but as I suspect the story had exactly the result you intended, I won’t.” His deepening grin told her she was right. Her expression changed as gratitude swelled in her chest. “You have been a good friend to me these past few months, David, and I thank you for it.”

He took her hand in his. It was warm and firm, as pleasant and solid as the man himself. The mischief was gone from his eyes, replaced by a deep earnestness. “I won’t press you, but when you are ready, I hope that I can be more than your friend. If I could, I would change everything about that day except for the fact that I met you. You deserve to be happy, Joanna, and I want to be the one to make it so.”

His declaration wasn’t a surprise. When he’d learned of her intention to leave Douglas, the invitation for her to stay at her cousin’s home—the cousin who just happened to be married to one of Sir David’s vassals—to help her with the care of her children and home while her husband recovered from the broken leg he’d suffered after he fell off the roof of their cottage while trying to make repairs, it had been too convenient to be coincidental. But at the time, Joanna had been so desperate for a place to go where James would not easily find her, she’d jumped at the opportunity.

Sir David Lindsay was a good man, and in time perhaps she could grow to love him. Not the passionate, all-encompassing girlish love she’d had for James, but the solid, mature love of a woman. But it wouldn’t be fair to encourage him—even if she didn’t suspect his feelings for her were more a result of that strong streak of rescuer he had running through his blood. “There are things you don’t know. Things that would make it impossible for there to be anything more than friendship between us.”

His expression hardened, and she saw vestiges of the formidable warrior he was reputed to be. Like James, Sir David was a close companion of the king and a member of his personal retinue. “If you mean Douglas, he doesn’t scare me.”

He should, she almost said. Sir David was tall, strong, and surely skilled, but few men could best James Douglas in size, sheer physical strength, and fierceness.

She shook her head. “It’s not James.” At least not entirely. She chewed on her thumb absently, heat crawling up her cheeks. How could she explain without telling him about the baby? She wasn’t chaste. She’d carried another man’s child. Hardly the proper wife for a young lord. Though they were the same age at two and twenty, she felt far older by experience.

He must have guessed at the reason for her hesitation. He tipped her chin with the back of his finger to look into his eyes. “I am not a priest, Joanna. I will not require a confession of sins before I ask a woman to be my wife. I will listen, if you feel you must tell me, but remember that I was the first person to reach you when you fell, and it was me who carried you up the hill to the castle. I may not be a healer, but I do understand why a woman might be bleeding after a fall like that. I also saw the way you cried and cradled your stomach when you woke. When I learned of your connection—your former connection—to Douglas, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what had happened.”

Joanna was stunned. “And you still…?” She couldn’t get the words out. The fact that this man so easily offered what James had refused—even after what she’d just said—made her want to burst into tears.

He nodded. “Aye, I still. I won’t lie to you and say that I don’t wish it had happened differently. But I gave it some thought, and your former relationship with Douglas isn’t what worries me. What worries me is whether that relationship really is in the past.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he stopped her. “I’m not asking for assurances. Not now, at least. But I thought you should know how I felt.”

Joanna didn’t understand. “Why me?” she blurted. Then embarrassed, she tried to explain, “I mean, I’m sure you have your pick of the ladies at court.”

He smiled again. “Because you are sweet, kind, and beautiful, and none of the ladies at court have ever made me this happy. You are special, Joanna, and I thank God every day that Douglas was too much of a fool to realize what a treasure he had.”

No one… only the marshal’s daughter.
The cruel words still had the power to sting, but Sir David had helped lessen the hurt. Not all men saw her worth as simply a rung on the ladder of social positioning.

For a moment she thought he might kiss her. She would have let him, curious to see whether he could rouse the same passion in her as James. But he must have remembered his vow not to press her.

Dropping his hand from her face, he stepped back. “I should return to the castle. Some of the guests will be arriving soon, and I should be there to greet them. I only stopped by to make sure you saved me the first dance.” He smiled. “And the last dance and every one in between.”

Despite her lighter spirits today, Joanna didn’t feel much like feasting. But after all Sir David had done for her, she could not refuse to attend the May Day celebration that seemed to have the entire village in a state of barely contained excitement. With the war, there had been little time or opportunity for feasting, and everyone knew with King Edward threatening to invade again in the summer, it might be some time before there was another.

“I should like that very much,” she answered honestly. “Although I think your duties as host will require the partnering of more than just one woman.”

He made a face and sighed. “I suppose you are right. But the first will be yours and I shan’t enjoy the rest.”

She laughed and her smile lingered long after he’d gone.

Though she supposed she should go inside and start helping the children—and herself—get ready, Joanna strolled to the edge of the burn that wound along the edge of the cottage. The hill sloped along the bank, and she was careful as she sat on the damp grass not to slip. It was a beautiful day, and like the laughter that had come before, the warmth of the sun on her face seemed to harken an awakening. A return from the dark, grief-stricken days of the past few months.

She didn’t allow herself to think much of James, but surprisingly, speaking of him with Sir David today hadn’t been as painful as she’d feared. Her feelings—the love, anger, disillusionment, and hatred—weren’t so intense. Time and healing had dulled the sting and given her perspective.

She didn’t blame him for what had happened. It had been just as much her fault as his. She’d been naive and filled with unrealistic expectations. Knowing his ambition and how important restoring his family’s honor was to him, she should have realized that marriage to him would not be based on love but on position and fortune. His bride would be a prize to be won, just like everything else.

But her fault went beyond failure to properly take stock of the circumstances. She’d put him up on a pedestal like a demigod with a love akin to worship. It was no wonder that he’d never seen her as his equal. The harsh reality was that she’d never seen
herself
as his equal. She’d loved him too much and given too much of herself away in the process.

She had given him everything and never demanded anything in return. Why was she surprised that when she finally did, he refused?

She had let him take her for granted, let him think she was a woman he could make love to and not marry, but that would never happen again. The next man she trusted with her heart would value it.

But Joanna wasn’t sure she would ever be able to trust anyone like that again. Like the scars upon her flesh, the wounds to her heart were healed but not erased. The memories, like the marks, would remain.

She heard a sound behind her and saw her cousin Maggie rushing toward her.

Jo’s eyes narrowed with concern at Maggie’s anxious expression. “What’s wrong?”

Though breaking a bone as badly as Patrick, her cousin’s husband, had often meant the loss of the limb, his leg seemed to be healing well. So well that he was able to hobble around with a stick and had resumed many of his duties. Her cousin wouldn’t need her much longer—if she ever had.

Maggie shook her head. “Someone is here to see you.”

A shadow moved from around the cottage behind Maggie.

Joanna stilled. Her heart skittered to a stop and then froze as ice hardened around it like a protective shell.

She knew who it was even before the familiar form appeared. He’d found her. And the storm of emotions brewing inside her, trying to crack the ice, told her that maybe she wasn’t quite as over James Douglas as she wanted to be.

 

 

After days of frustration in trying to convince her family to tell him where she was, and all the fruitless searching, the first glimpse of Joanna nearly brought him to his knees. James was so glad to see her, all he could think about was crossing the distance between them and wrapping her in his arms. He wanted to hold her against him, savoring the soft warmth of her body cradled against his and smothering his senses with the fragrant scent of wildflowers that always drenched her skin and hair.

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