The Knight (Highland Guard #7.5)(28)
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.