An Uncertain Choice(18)

He lifted his fingers to my cheek, and his callused thumb drew a gentle line down my jaw. I sucked in a sharp breath at his boldness but found myself melting under his touch.

When his thumb reached the end of my jaw, he cupped my chin, tilting my head up. “My lady, people may say many things about me,” he whispered hoarsely. “But I pray they never say I lack courage. God forbid it.”

His face was near enough that the warmth of his breath fanned me.

Never had I looked so deeply into someone’s eyes. I was helplessly lost.

“I’m not and never will be a coward.” His gaze fell to my lips, and my chest contracted with a frightening yet excited swoosh. Surely he would not be so audacious as to take a kiss from me. Not here. Not now.

I wanted to reply, but even if I’d been able to think of something to say, I doubted I’d be able to make my tongue work to speak.

“And I am most certainly not afraid to kiss you, my lady.” His lips hovered all too close, and my breath stuttered. The steel in his eyes darkened, and I felt as if all time were standing still.

But then slowly, deliberately, he let go of me and took a step back. He locked his hands behind his back and put several steps between us, leaving me suddenly cold. I wrapped my arms across my chest to fight off a shiver.

“Please rest assured, my lady, that if I resist pursuing, it’s certainly not because I’m a coward.”

“You have convinced me, sir.” I wished I could control the waver in my voice and the strange, overwhelming desire to stand close to him again.

Even though he’d put a safe and proper distance between us, his eyes wouldn’t let me go.

Sudden angry shouts from the inner courtyard at the front of the keep drew my attention. Before I could make sense of the commotion, Trudy appeared from around the corner, hustling toward me.

“Rose, you come with me this instant,” she called, shaking her head, her portly frame heaving with each step.

“Whatever is the matter?” I asked as she flew upon me as fast as her short legs could carry her.

“The sheriff has come with several of his men.” Trudy grabbed my arm and began to steer me toward the open kitchen door. “And he’s very angry.”

The swift sound of metal rasping against metal was followed by the glint of Sir Derrick’s dagger as he unsheathed it from his side.

The strength in his face and the steadiness of his stance should have calmed me. But dread crept into my heart. After learning that the sheriff was resistant to my rule, I wasn’t sure I was ready to face him again. And yet, how would he learn to take my rule seriously if I cowered away?

“Why is the sheriff here this time?” I asked while trying to tug away from my nursemaid.

Trudy swatted my backside, urging me to continue toward the arched doorway. “He’s accusing you of sending one of the knights to break into his estate last night.”

I glanced again at Sir Derrick. One of the knights had undeniably done the deed. Had it been Sir Derrick? His gray eyes glinted, but his face was like iron, giving nothing away. If it had been him, I couldn’t tell.

“Let me go to the sheriff.” Once again, I tried to break free, but Trudy’s grip was strong. “I’ll set the matter aright.”

“No, my lady.” Trudy huffed, and her ample chest rose up and down in her distress. “We need to wait for the abbot. He knows how to calm the sheriff.”

I needed to learn how to put the wayward lawman in his place once and for all. But part of me hesitated. The sheriff had already sent me an unspoken message with his disregard for my laws banning the old torture methods. He’d made a mockery of my compassionate approaches. What if I faced him and he only mocked me further? What would I do then? I would only make myself look weaker and frailer.

Perhaps for now my best move was to let the knights confront the sheriff on my behalf.

I sighed and let Trudy lead me into the castle, into safety. As much as I wanted to be seen as a strong leader, there were times when I didn’t want to face my growing responsibilities.





Chapter

7




SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN MY BACK BETWEEN MY SHOULDER blades. Even though the doors and windows of the Great Hall were wide open, my body was tense and hot.

The altercation in the courtyard with the sheriff’s men had been swift. Although the sheriff had come with the intent of forcing the duke to leave the castle, no blood had been shed. The mere sight of our weapons had persuaded the sheriff to solve any differences through peaceful methods rather than might.

I turned my attention to the front of the Great Hall, where Lady Rosemarie sat in her golden chair on the raised platform. With the long room open before her, she remained still and regal: her chin held high, her shoulders straight, and her gaze never swerving from the sheriff at the doorway.

Even so, I could see a flicker of anxiety in her eyes and wished I could reassure her that we would keep her safe no matter what happened.

The duke stood guard next to her. He laid a hand upon her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

The abbot entered behind the sheriff and moved with slow, measured steps down the center aisle toward Lady Rosemarie. He tucked his hands in the long sleeves of his flowing brown habit. His expression was serene, as if he were getting ready to lead Matins. Apparently he was unruffled by the altercation with the sheriff, and with Lady Rosemarie’s decision to give the duke’s contest a try.