An Uncertain Choice(14)

“And I hope with proper introductions, your Grace,” said one of the knights with a crooked but endearing grin.

“Ah, yes.” The duke returned the grin. “Lady Rosemarie, let me introduce my three most loyal men.” He waved his hand at the fair-haired man who had made the comment. The knight’s skin was tan, his eyes an alluring green, and his face animated with a lightheartedness that made him appealing.

“Lady Rosemarie, may I introduce Sir Collin Goodrich.”

With a gallant flourish of his arm, the young man gave a bow. Then he sprang up the steps, knelt before me, and reached for my hand. A sparkle in his eyes danced like leaves in the summer sun. “My lady, I look forward to winning your heart.” And with that, he placed the gentlest kiss upon the tips of my fingers.

The sweet warmth of his words and kiss was unlike anything I’d ever known, and it seared a trail up to my cheeks.

“You may not monopolize her attention, Collin,” said the other knight standing at the base of the steps.

“And this is Sir Bennet Windsor,” the duke said, nodding at the one who had just spoken. He was slightly taller than the others, with wavy raven-black hair and features of chiseled perfection. The overall effect was as if a master artist had crafted him after an ancient Greek god. Even though his midnight eyes twinkled, there was a determination on his face that made me blush again.

How strange it was to be desired by these men and to entertain their attention and flattery. After the past years of solitude, it was disconcerting, but not unwelcome.

“I look forward to getting to know you, my lady,” Sir Bennet said, his eyes speaking the truth of his words.

Sir Collin shot his friend a grin. “First, you’ll have to fight me away from Lady Rosemarie.”

“Oh, I doubt I’ll have to fight you away,” Sir Bennet jested with a smooth smile of his own. “Especially when she realizes just how dull you are.”

“And how unsophisticated you are,” Sir Collin countered, bumping his friend good-naturedly.

“I’ll look forward to seeing a little competition between you men.” The duke chuckled. “But rest assured, I’ll give you each fair time to win Lady Rosemarie’s hand.”

A prick of doubt assailed me. “I wouldn’t want to be the cause of discord between good friends.”

“This competition will serve to strengthen their character,” the duke replied. “And while I hope they’ll fight hard to win your hand, I know they’ll do so with the utmost integrity, honor, and kindness toward one another.”

The knight behind me on the upper landing hadn’t spoken or moved since his whistle. I glanced at him again, suddenly conscious of his presence nearby and the fact I still didn’t know his name.

“Sir Derrick Harding, my lady,” the duke said, as if reading my mind.

“Sir Derrick.” I curtsied. His gray eyes clashed with mine again as they had inside, and they probed deeply. The frustration from a moment ago was gone, making me wonder if I’d only imagined it.

“My lady.” He bowed.

I waited for him to say something witty or flattering, as the other two had done. But he only straightened and reached out to stroke Pup, who’d taken a seat at his side.

At the sight of Sir Derrick with the dog, the duke raised his brow. Sir Derrick shrugged his shoulders. “He likes me. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

I smiled at the picture he made standing against the massive stone keep with the dog by his side, almost as if he were already master over the dog and the castle.

“At least the dog likes you,” Sir Collin called. “Be happy with that, because that’s about all the affection you’ll have the chance to win.”

“I’ll have something to speak about, even if it is a mutt.” Sir Derrick’s response was quick. “Which is more than you’ll be able to say for yourself.”

Sir Collin laughed, clearly appreciating the witty exchange. I could only watch, feeling suddenly breathless and completely out of sorts. I wasn’t skilled in speaking with men or flirting or carrying on intelligent conversations. I had absolutely no idea how to relate to them.

How would I ever be able to participate in this contest for true love? Especially without making a bumbling fool of myself in the process?




When the men made ready to depart on their hunting foray, I went directly to my garden, to the beds upon beds of flowers I’d cultivated over the years. I buried myself in their sweet fragrances and gentle colors, all the while thinking about the men and wondering what it would be like to spend time with them.

“Here you are,” came the voice of a man behind me. From where I knelt among the hedgerow roses, I peeked over my shoulder. The tall, dark-haired knight stood several feet away, freshly groomed in finely tailored breeches and matching shirt of a royal blue that only served to highlight his features. The waves of his hair had been brushed into submission, and he looked like he was about to venture into the king’s court rather than depart on a hunting excursion.

I wiped the dirt from my fingers, suddenly conscious of how grimy I was compared to him. “Oh, you’re not hunting, Sir . . .”

“Bennet. Sir Bennet,” he supplied. “We’ve already returned, my lady. Sir Collin shot a stag with his longbow within the first five minutes of the hunt, and we decided we were done.”