The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) (13 page)

Damnation… I chose the wrong door!

“My lady,” he greeted through clenched teeth. He didn’t even know her name, only that her surname was de Saix, like her father’s. He didn’t even know what to call her. “I… I came to apologize that I was not in attendance when you arrived today. I had duties that kept me….”

Suddenly, coming into his line of sight, was a young lady that he
did
, in fact, recognize. The mere sight of her cut him off quickly. When Emmaline saw him, her face lit up.

“Sir Lucien!” she exclaimed. “I did not think we would see you until tonight. Lady Juno and Lady Aricia have been excellent companions this afternoon. We have been getting along splendidly.”

She pointed to the ladies as she said each name, indicating which lady was which. Lucien blinked, rather startled by Emmaline’s unexpected appearance. “I am pleased to hear that,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as off-balance as he felt. “Is… is your mother in here with you, too?”

Emmaline shook her head. “She is in the chamber across there,” she said, pointing directly across the landing. “Did you wish to speak with her?”

Lucien looked at the three young ladies in the chamber, wondering why he felt so nervous. Of course it was because of Lady Juno; his betrothed now had a name. Well, his
former
betrothed had a name. After the incident in the hall with Holderness, there was no longer a betrothal but he wouldn’t tell Lady Juno that. He would leave it to her father.

His gaze moved over the girl quickly; she was small and slender, and not unattractive looking. She had pretty eyes. But she was a shadow compared to Lady Sophina’s beauty – a colorless and faded shadow. He took a step back, away from the door.

“Aye,” he said after a moment. “There are a few things I wish to, uh, discuss with her. Do not be troubled. I will see you all at the feast tonight. I will call on Lady Sophina myself.”

With that, he reached out and grasped the door to close it, but Emmaline was already bounding through the door, rushing to the chamber where her mother was and pounding on the door.

“Mama?” she called. “Mama, Sir Lucien is here! He wishes to speak with you!”

Lucien couldn’t believe the situation he found himself in; standing on the landing, he had his former betrothed to his left and Emmaline to his right, banging on the door of the woman he very much wanted for his own. What was he to say to all of the women standing there if it came out that Lady Juno was his intended? What would Lady Sophina think?

For the first time in his life, Lucien resisted the urge to run from a conflict for not even he could survive the wrath of angry or confused women. He considered his options and how fast he could make it down the stairs before they tried to follow him and beat him to death, but as he mulled over his choices, the door in front of Emmaline suddenly jerked open and like a vision of angels, Lady Sophina was standing there.

He swore that he was blinded by her radiant light.

“Greetings, Sir Lucien,” she said, her eyes riveted to him as she held his old robe close about her body. “I apologize for greeting you in this manner of dress, but our clothes have not been returned to us yet. Have our trunks been retrieved?”

God, how Lucien wished he was that robe right now, embracing her body, clinging to tender areas that deserved touching and stroking and caressing. It was difficult for him to move past that thought.

“Not yet,” he said. “But I expect my men back at any moment. I am sorry I could not provide you with something more appropriate to dress in, but it has been some time since a woman lived here. All of my wife’s clothes have long since been given to the poor.”

Sophina smiled faintly. “You are most generous in all aspects, my lord,” she said. “What you have provided is more than sufficient until our clothing is returned.”

Lucien smiled in return, utterly forgetting that there were three girls standing around, watching his reaction to Sophina. But he was jolted from that blissful connection with Sophina’s lovely face when Emmaline suddenly spoke up.

“Mama,” she said, catching everyone’s attention. Then she twirled around in the deep blue surcoat she had on, very pretty, with a soft white shift underneath. “Look at the dress Juno has loaned me. Is it not beautiful?”

Sophina’s smile turned in her daughter’s direction. “Beautiful, sweetheart,” she said. Then, she looked at Juno, who was still standing back by her chamber door. “You have my thanks, my lady. You are very kind and generous to loan my daughter such a lovely garment. She will take very good care of it, I promise.”

Juno smiled timidly. “I would be happy to loan you a garment, too, my lady,” she said. “I heard what Sir Lucien said about your clothes having not yet been returned. I have more clothes than I can wear in a month. Papa told me to pack for a long stay, so that is what I did.”

Sophina shook her head politely. “You are very kind to offer, but I would not dream of depriving you of your lovely clothing,” she said. “What you have done for my daughter is enough. I am grateful.”

Juno took a timid step away from her chamber, towards Lucien and Sophina and the twirling Emmaline. “It is truly no trouble at all,” she insisted. “I would be honored to help. I have so very much to offer and until your clothing can be retrieved and cleaned, I am more than happy to loan you serviceable items. It may take a day or two for your clothing to be cleaned and dried, will it not, Sir Lucien?”

Lucien was forced to tear his attention away from Sophina when Juno addressed him. He nodded shortly. “It is very possible,” he said. He quickly returned his attention to Sophina as if unable to look at anything else. “If the young lady is offering, it may be wise to agree. I should like you and your daughter down in the hall tonight for the evening meal and you cannot come wearing my old woolen robes.”

So this robe does belong to Lucien
, Sophina thought. She also thought of what she’d done in that robe, of her scent now marked on the interior of it. It was enough to make her flush at the mere thought but she fought it, not wanting anyone to see color in her cheeks.

“I can see your point,” she said to Lucien, trying to keep her head down a little because she could feel the heat around her ears. “Lady Juno is very generous to be so kind to strangers. If it not too much trouble, my lady, then I accept your offer.”

Juno beamed. “It is no trouble at all, I assure you,” she said, her manner turning eager. “My cousin has a wonderful eye for dressing and fabrics and colors. She loves to dress women.”

Sophina smiled at the enthusiasm of the girl. “Then I am grateful to your cousin, as well,” she said, glancing at the girl with the scarf all around her face. “I will be sure to tell your father what a remarkable daughter he has when I see him at the evening meal. You have obviously been raised in a kind and generous house.”

Juno smiled demurely; she was quite practiced at being modest. “I have fostered in two very fine homes,” she said. “When I was young, I fostered at Prudhoe Castle in the north but when the Lady d’Umfraville died, the lord sent all of the female wards away. My father was able to place me at Wellesbourne Castle after that and I remained there until about three months ago, when my father recalled me home because he had brokered a marriage contract with the help of the king.”

Lucien felt as if a giant hand was squeezing the breath out of him. He could hardly breathe, struggling to come up with a change of subject because he most certainly did not want to discuss Lady Juno’s marriage contract, but Sophina was politely interested in the conversation and spoke before he could say a word. It was her conversation, after all. She had every right to continue it, even on the dangerous path it was progressing on.

“Ah,” Sophina said knowingly. “My father has made a marriage contract for me as well. In fact, that was where I was going when our party was attacked and Sir Lucien so ably saved us. Are you traveling to your betrothed’s residence as well?”

Juno shook her head. “I have already arrived,” she said. “Sir Lucien is my betrothed. I have not met him until today.”

The smile on Sophina’s face turned into something of a grimace. She had been living in a dream world for the past several hours, a world where Lucien was the object of her desire, and to hear he was betrothed to this… this
child
… was like an arrow to her heart. She knew she had no right to feel that way; no right at all.

Still, she found that she couldn’t help the disappointment. In those few words, that pale, slender girl had shot her hopes and dreams full of holes, and everything was draining out of her, leaving her feeling hollow. God, she felt so foolish.

So very foolish.

“I see,” she said after a moment, her voice sounding oddly strained. She didn’t dare look at Lucien. “I am sure you will be very happy. I wish you the best in your new life together.”

Juno smiled, but it was forced. It was clear that she wasn’t sure how she felt about her betrothal to a much older man. “Thank you, my lady,” she said. “And I wish you the same with your coming wedding. Does your intended live close by?”

Sophina realized that she felt very much like crying, her disappointment was so great. It was a struggle to stay focused on Juno’s polite question.

“I do not think it is too far,” she said, turning to look at Lucien full-on. There was no use in acting as if he’d done anything wrong, or jilted her, because he certainly had not. Her silly dreams had been her own and now they were dead. “Gillingham is not too far from Spelthorne, is it, my lord?”

Lucien had a rather sickened expression on his face; something around his eyes looked sad and defeated. “Not too far,” he echoed quietly. “About twelve miles from here. It will take an hour on a good horse, at most. You will be quite… close.”

Sophina stared at him. There was something in his tone that might have led her to believe that he wasn’t entirely happy about the marriage arrangement with Juno, either. In fact, neither one of them looked particularly happy about the marriage, but more than that, if she didn’t know better, she might have thought he was feeling the same disappointment in the betrothal that she was.

But no
; she shook herself inwardly. Surely he was pleased with the bride, the daughter of an earl. As she’d known from the beginning, Sir Lucien de Russe was far too good for her, as she was a nearly penniless widow with a daughter. Sir Lucien required a fine wife who could provide him with status and wealth.

He deserved better than her.

“Then mayhap we shall be good neighbors to one another,” she said. There was a lump in her throat she couldn’t seem to swallow down so she turned away, back for her borrowed chamber. “If you will excuse me, I would like to rest before the evening meal. I look forward to meeting your father, Lady Juno. Thank you again for your kindness and generosity towards my daughter and me.”

She was slipping away rather swiftly and Juno called after her. “Would you like me to send a dress to you, my lady?” she said. “I will have Aricia select one. She is never wrong about how a garment will fit on someone. I shall have her bring you something.”

Sophina forced a smile; God, it was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. She felt like weeping. Nay, she felt like bawling. A big explosion of tears and disappointment. That was what she felt like. But Juno, sweet Juno, was truly trying to be kind. Sophina could not hate the girl, no matter how much she wanted to.

“That would be most kind of you, my lady,” she said hoarsely. “I will look forward to seeing you again at the meal.”

With that, Sophina entered the chamber and shut the door behind her. It was just in the nick of time, too, because the tears were already falling. She couldn’t stop them. She could hear shuffling and talking outside of her door, and Lucien’s deep voice on occasion, but soon everything faded away and it was purely quiet.

She was thankful. She didn’t want to hear Lucien’s voice anymore or see him with that girl he would soon be marrying. Soon, he would be touching that young woman’s body in a way that Sophina wished he would touch hers. She was a woman grown and had been married for several years, and she knew how to respond to a man’s touch. She knew how to please him.

But it wasn’t so much the physical aspect as it was the emotional one. Sophina had been attached to her first husband, Emmaline’s father. He had been a bit older and his health had never been particularly good, but he had been wise and gentle and kind. She had grown to love him, so she understood what it meant to love someone and she desperately missed that emotional connection, so rare when it came to marriages. Most of the marriages she knew were those of convenience. There was no love in them, only polite regard.

But Sophina didn’t want that in a marriage. She’d had love before and she wanted it again. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted her heart to flutter when she looked at her husband and she wanted to crave his touch. She didn’t think that was too much to ask and she was hoping against hope that there would be some kind of connection with her and du Ponte. But now, with the introduction of Lucien de Russe, she couldn’t even think of du Ponte. She didn’t want to meet him. She was dreading the day he would come for her.

Distraught, she made her way over to the bed and lay down upon it, sobbing softly. For her, dreams of Lucien de Russe had come to a very sudden end and she was deeply disappointed. But better they come to an end now than later, when it would be even more difficult to shake the man.

Truth was, even with this very brief association, she wasn’t entirely sure she could ever shake him.

CHAPTER FIVE