Horror lashed through Rosetta; it broke from her in a low, despairing cry ripped from her soul. “Edric attacked you?”
“Aye.”
A violent tremor rippled through Rosetta. Her legs suddenly went weak, and she turned to lean back against the nearest stone merlon, glad of its solid strength to hold her upright. “W-why would he do such an awful thing?”
“Because…” Ash sighed, the sound ragged. “He did not want me to have you.”
The tears Rosetta had fought so hard to hold back filled her eyes. “Oh, Ash—”
“He had always been jealous of our love. While he and I journeyed to the East, he teased me about having to end my relationship with you in order to go on Crusade. He called it the choice between my maiden and my King.”
Tears trailed down her cheeks.
“Edric vowed that since I had broken your heart, you were forever lost to me. When he returned from Crusade, he intended to ask your father for your hand in marriage.”
“Ash,” she moaned. She’d been aware of Edric’s jealousy, but had never paid it too much heed.
“I tolerated Edric’s teasing because, in many other ways, he was a fine, loyal friend. ’Twas more than likely we would both die while fighting the Saracens or from wounds inflicted in battle, so his teasing held no substance. Moreover, in my heart, I knew that you deserved a better man than me. If we did survive to return to England, Edric belonged to a high-ranking family, and he would one day inherit his sire’s rich estate. He had so much more to offer you than I did.”
“Ash!” Oh, God, how could he have believed himself unworthy of her?
“I know you and I had once talked about running away and getting married, but after I committed to going on Crusade, I realized ’twould not be right to bind you to me, when I might be killed. ’Tis why I…let you go. During our journey to the eastern lands, though, especially on the long and lonely nights, I could not help thinking about my life if I did manage to return to England. I missed you so much. I ached for you, and—”
A sob welled in her throat. She’d felt the same way about him.
“—and I vowed I would fight for your love. For our love. I decided to speak with your father as soon as I got back to Warwickshire. I did not want to live without you, Briar Rose.”
Oh, Ash. She wanted to crumple to the stones at his feet and weep, but she must be strong, to hear all that he had to say. Trembling, she asked, “Did you tell Edric of your decision?”
“Not at first. One night, though, a few days into the battle to reclaim Acre, he and some other soldiers had drunk too much. While we sat around the fire, sharing stories, he taunted me. He was relentless. Fed up, I told him that he would never have you, that you loved me and not him, and that I intended to marry you.”
“Is that when he wounded you?” Rosetta asked.
“Nay. Not that night. He was furious, and you and I both know he has a strong temper. I half-expected him to start a fight with me, but he did not. He just strode away. The next morning, he seemed to be his usual self. He said no more about what I had told him, and so I thought the disagreement was over. ’Twas one of my mistakes.”
“Go on,” she urged, dreading what she would hear but needing to know all.
Ash’s shoulders tensed. The rigidity of his posture spoke of tremendous inner torment. “Two days later, we were engaged in a skirmish with Saracens. During the battle, Edric and I pursued one particularly brutal enemy warrior who tried to flee. We followed him for some distance, until he turned on us. Together, we fought him. He cut my leg, but I battled through my pain, and Edric and I slew him. As I lowered my weapon, congratulating Edric on our fine fight, he grabbed the fallen Saracen’s sword. He turned the weapon on me.”
“Oh, God,” Rosetta whispered.
“I did not anticipate the attack. He cut my face on his first strike. His eyes glittering with hatred, he said no woman—especially you—would ever find me handsome again. He said you would not be able to bear to look at me.”
“Nay,” she rasped. “Nay!”
“With blood streaming into my eyes, I defended myself, but my injured leg gave out. I fell, unable to stand, and he kicked away my sword. He…slashed my hands, vowing that I would never touch you again, would never be able to…caress you.”
Unable to hold back her sobs, Rosetta wept.
“He made sure you would never desire me as your husband.”
She pressed her arms over her stomach, tasting bile at the back of her mouth. Edric had deliberately hurt Ash, given him disfiguring scars, because of Ash’s love for her. She was responsible for what had happened to him.
“I am sorry,” she said, her heart breaking into thousands of tiny, bloody, painful shards. “Oh, God, I am sorry.”
Ash touched her shoulder. “’Tis not your fault.”
“It is! Oh, Ash—”
He exhaled a ragged breath, and then he pulled her into his arms, holding her head against his chest. His familiar, masculine scent filled her senses, sharpening her anguish, interweaving the present turmoil with memories of their past together. On instinct, her arms went around him, as she’d held him in the past, and she sobbed into his tunic.
He let her cry, whispering soothing words while she wept. After long moments, when she had no more tears to shed, he tipped her face up and placed a tender kiss on her brow.
Shuddering, her eyes stinging, she said, “I am so glad you survived.”
A muscle ticked in Ash’s jaw. “So am I.” He handed her a handkerchief which she used to dry her eyes and nose.
“Tell me the rest. Please.”
As she spoke, she sensed him retreating emotionally. She could not let him go, not now.
“Please. What happened after he wounded you? Did someone else see him attack you, or—?”
“No one else was around, so there were no witnesses. Edric made sure to remind me of that before he threw aside the sword and walked away, leaving me lying on the ground along with the dead Saracen. Edric no doubt hoped that I would bleed to death. If anyone found me, they would believe I had died from wounds inflicted while I fought the enemy warrior. I shouted for help, hoping someone would hear me. I yelled until my voice gave out, until I had lost all hope…and then, some Crusaders found me.”
“Thank God,” she whispered.
“I had lost a lot of blood. I was barely conscious when they pushed me onto a horse and took me first to my superior officers, and then to the Knights Hospitaller. It took me many months to heal, but I vowed I would get well enough to journey back to England.”
Frowning, she said, “Did you tell the other Crusaders what happened to you?”
“I tried. I told my friends, and asked them to relay my account to the King. However, Edric denied all, saying he had not wounded me; the Saracen had. It did not help that I soon fell into a fever that lasted for many days. My account of Edric’s assault was quickly dismissed as delirium.”
“You had no way to prove he was the one responsible,” Rosetta murmured. “No proof, as you said earlier.”
“Exactly. Even if I had not been feverish, I doubt what I said would have been believed. My wounds, after all, were cut by a foreign weapon. Edric was also an outstanding warrior. He and I were among the first to have been knighted on the battlefield.”
Mother Mary. What he had been through was more than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. “I am sorry about your scars, Ash, so very sorry—”
“Hush,” he whispered, kissing her brow again. “You have no reason to apologize.”
“I do! Edric attacked you because of me.”
Ash shook his head. “Edric is solely to blame for his wickedness. You, Briar Rose, are the reason I am alive.”
“Me? But—”
A smile touched his mouth. “The love we shared gave me the will to live. Edric might have damaged me physically, but he could never destroy my love for you. It gave me the strength to heal, and to return to make you mine.”
Rosetta trembled in Ash’s arms. Ah, God, it felt so right to hold her, to be the one she leaned on when she wept. Ash longed to kiss her, to ease some of the remaining torment that must still churn within her, its strength diminished through her weeping but not completely gone.
How curious that his heart felt lighter now that he had told her the truth about his scars. She hadn’t tried to pull away from him. She hadn’t called him a liar, as he had dreaded. She also hadn’t said she did not want to be his—which gave him hope that she’d love him as she had before.
“Our love has given me strength, too,” Rosetta said, her words spoken as though she had chosen them with care. “Yet, I do not know how we can be together again.”
An icy chill plowed through Ash. “What do you mean? We are together right now. You never have to leave Damsley Keep if you do not want to.”
Concern gleamed in her eyes. “I am promised to Edric.”
“I do not care.”
“My marriage to him was approved by the crown. The banns have already been announced three times in Clipston’s church—”
“I will never let him wed you.”
“Ash—”
“If he was able to wound me without the slightest remorse, what might he dare to do to you?” The iciness within Ash spread to encompass his soul. “I would never forgive myself if he hurt you out of jealousy or anger.”
Her lips curved into a sad, shaky smile. Reaching up, she drew her fingertips down his cheek. He closed his eyes, savoring the pleasure of her touch. “As a man of honor,” she said softly, “you know the importance of fulfilling a commitment to the crown. ’Tis my duty to marry Edric, my duty to my parents as well as to the King.”
Ash suppressed a harsh cry of fury. Damnation, but she was right. “There must be a way to break your betrothal, one that would be accepted by your family and the crown.”
“I do not know of one.” Blinking hard, she looked away into the darkness, as if battling the fresh onslaught of tears.
He caught her free hand and kissed it. “We will find a way.”
Her attention returned to him; her gaze glimmered with uncertainty.
“We will.” He pressed their joined fingers over his heart, where his love for her would always lie, regardless of what happened in the coming days. “No matter how difficult it might be, we must not stop searching until we have figured out what to do.”
“Mayhap if we met with my parents, and you told them what you told me tonight—”
“I sent a missive to your father this afternoon,” Ash gently pressed her fingers. “I told him that you were safe and my honored guest. I meant to tell you earlier.”
Gratitude shone in her eyes, but then her worry returned. “By now, he will know I have been kidnapped. He will bring his men-at-arms to your front gates.”
“Aye. I expect him to be here on the morrow.”
“Edric will no doubt be with him. Oh, Ash—”
“Neither your father nor Edric will know that I abducted you. Edric will suspect, but will not have any proof.”
Fear touched her features. “Do you mean to challenge Edric? Is that why you want my father there, to be a witness?”
She was clever, his Briar Rose: clever and also correct. His first impulse had indeed been to confront Edric and draw him into a deadly fight—something Ash couldn’t have done before his wounds had mostly healed and he could once again grip a weapon. “’Tis what I would like to do—”
“’Tis too dangerous a plan, especially if he is as good a warrior as you say he is.”
“I am a skilled fighter myself.”
“Even with the injuries to your hands?”
Her soft inquiry brushed over every thread of doubt in his mind.
“Do you still have the strength in your hands that you had before? I have only held a broadsword once, and ’twas very heavy. I cannot imagine wielding such a weapon, when—”
“I may be disfigured,” Ash ground out, “but I am not helpless.”
“I did not say that you were.” Her stubborn gaze held his. “My concern is that ’twill not be a fair fight.”
Ash laughed, the sound bitter. “Briar Rose—”
“—and I will not stand by and see you wounded again by Edric…or killed.” Her eyes blazed, even as a tear slipped down her cheek.
He stared back, humbled and captivated by the passion in her gaze. That passion came from her feelings for him: from the purest, truest love.
“I must confront Edric,” Ash said quietly, wiping away her tear. “He must answer for what he did to me. Moreover, he must accept that you will never be his wife.”
“Ash, a duel between you and Edric is not enough to release me from my marriage.”
“Even if I kill him?” Ash said with a growl.
“Cease that kind of talk! If you did slay him without proving that he deliberately wounded you, then you would be guilty of murder. There would be no chance of us having a future together then.”
Ash squeezed her hand again. “By fighting him, I might be able to prove his dishonor, though—and that might be enough for the crown to reconsider your marriage.”
The faintest hope touched her expression. “What do you mean?”
“If I provoke him,” Ash continued, “I can make him angry. If he is enraged, he will not be as careful with his words. I might be able to goad him into confessing that he wounded me in the East.”
“And if he does not admit to what he did to you?”
Ash shrugged. “Then we are no further ahead than we were before.”
“You might be even more badly injured,” she said, shaking her head. “Nay, Ash. You cannot undertake such a reckless plan. I will not let you.”
Frustration coiled through him. “What do you suggest, then? That I do naught? That I simply stand by and let you leave with your sire and Edric?”
She studied him through the darkness and then nodded.
“What?! How in hellfire—?”
Before he guessed her intent, she rose up on tiptoes and kissed him. At the incredible shock of her lithe body gliding against his, followed by the light kiss, the rest of his words vanished.
“The wedding will have to be rescheduled,” she said evenly, lowering back down to standing. “That may take several weeks. In the meantime, I can start searching for further proof of Edric’s treachery. You said you have some evidence already—”
“I do. However, ’tis not a simple matter to get hold of it.” Indeed, the fragile tapestry of contacts and communications he’d established could be ripped asunder if he acted without carefully considering his actions. Informants could die. He did not want good men’s deaths on his conscience.
“’Tis why I must do what I can,” Rosetta insisted. “After Edric and I became betrothed, I spent more days at Wallensford Keep. If I continue to play the role of his future bride, no one will question my continued visits there. I will even try to go when he is away from the castle.”
Ash scowled, fear for her howling within him like a winter gale. “’Tis too risky. I will contact my local informant and try to get a man inside Wallensford—”
“How long will that take to arrange? I can accomplish far more than any stranger to the keep.”
“Mayhap so, but if Edric realizes what you are doing, you could be in great peril.”
“If I ride to Wallensford Keep when Edric is not there, he cannot hurt me,” she said.
“True, but—”
“Edric trusts me. I can go anywhere I want in the castle, including into his private solar.”
Ash gritted his teeth. “I like this plan less and less.”
“’Tis the best option we have. I can go where you cannot, and I can get into Edric’s personal belongings.” A hint of cunning in her smile, she added, “I can also find out if he has any more details on the lost treasure. Would that not be helpful? Is that not the kind of information you need as a spy working for the crown?”
Hellfire, what I need is to kiss you. Love you. Make you mine, and spend the rest of my life with you.
“I want to do this, Ash,” she said, her gaze earnest. “At least give me a chance to see what I can discover.”
His arms slid around her waist to hold her tight. “Briar Rose, I cannot—”
“You must. For us. I will not lose you again.”
Her shaking voice, filled with conviction, was his undoing. With a low groan, he dipped his head and kissed her, his mouth ravenous, seeking.
She answered his kiss with a hungry one of her own. As her lips molded to his, she slipped her hands up the front of his tunic to link them around his neck. Her fingers curled into his hair, the brush of her skin against his nape sending hot-cold sparks shooting down his spine. With each press of his mouth, she answered him with equal fervor. His senses flooded with the unforgettable taste and feel of her.
As their kisses intensified, he pressed her back against the merlon behind her. A gasp broke from her, and then she was kissing him again, her hands moving to claw into the front of his tunic. He suckled her mouth; she nibbled his. He slid his tongue into her mouth; shuddering, she matched the wild dance of his tongue.
“Ash,” she panted. “Ash!”
She writhed, as if frantic to get closer to him. As if she wanted to be naked with him.
He crushed his body against hers, his hips flush against hers, his swollen, throbbing hardness pressing against her womanly softness. They groaned together, and he closed his eyes, drowning in desire, his whole body yearning to hike up her skirts and plunge into her.
He could make her his. Right now.
Do it, his mind screamed. You know ’tis what she wants too.
Yet, even as his desire roared, he acknowledged the need for discretion. Rosetta was a well-bred lady. A virgin. She deserved to be wooed, loved, and exquisitely pleasured the first time she lay with him—not taken quickly on a chilly, windswept battlement.
“Ash,” she moaned against his mouth. As her palm slid down his tunic, on a deliberate path to places he dared not let her touch right now, he caught her wrist.
Breaking the kiss, breathing hard, she stared at him.
“What we want,” he whispered, “we cannot finish tonight.”
“Because I am a maiden?” Disappointment shone in her eyes.
“Aye.” He kissed her, soothing the sting of his refusal. “You are a noble lady—”
“—who sometimes wishes she was not.” She sighed and dropped her forehead to the front of his tunic. “Why do you have to be so damned chivalrous?”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I am a knight. ’Tis my duty—”
She groaned.
“Briar Rose.” He nudged his fingers under her chin and eased it up so that she met his gaze. “When we lie together, I want it to be the most special and memorable night of our lives. You deserve a soft bed, sprinkled with wild rose petals, and all of my attention and love. This battlement is neither romantic nor suitable.”
Her lips flattened, but then she nodded. With a provocative smile, she said, “For a night as wondrous as you have said, I will wait.”
“Good.” He kissed her again, a long, thorough kiss filled with promises.
“Will you do one thing for me,” she murmured, “when we lie together?”
His lusty mind filled with all kinds of sinful imaginings he would love to explore with her. “What is that?”
“Will you take off your gloves?”
His gust twisted. “God’s bones!”
“When you touch me, I want to feel you, not leather. I do not care if your hands are scarred. I do not care if they are unpleasant to look upon. Those wounds do not diminish in any way who you are, Ash, especially to me.”
He curled his hands on a surge of anguish. She wouldn’t be saying such kind and brave words if she had seen his scars. His hands were hideous. They were grotesque enough to cause nightmares, and thus were best kept hidden. “I will never take off my gloves,” he said, drawing away from her. Refusing to acknowledge the dismay in her expression, he said, “Please do not ask me again.”
Such finality echoed in Ash’s words. Rosetta swallowed hard, hating to think that he’d resolved never to bare his hands again. Surely, the gloves were uncomfortable at times? In the heat of the summer, they must be unbearable.
She studied his profile as he stared down at the bailey below. The night breeze tousled his hair and stirred his garments. That impenetrable, emotional armor seemed to surround him again. Mayhap it would simply take a little more time and trust for him to be willing to take off his gloves. If she loved him, proved to him that his scars really didn’t matter to her, he might be less resolute.
Loneliness touched his features, and she moved to his left side and slid her fingers through his. At first, he didn’t acknowledge her touch, but then his hand curled around hers.
“I should take you back to your chamber,” he said.
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
His narrowed gaze slid to her. “I am tempted. You know I am. Yet, I thought we had agreed to wait, and that we both understood the reasons why.”
“I did not mean that we would couple. I meant…that we would lie together, with our clothes on, in each other’s arms—as we used to in the meadow near Millenstowe Keep. Once I return to my father’s castle, it might be a while before we can see each other again. It could be days, or even weeks.”
He made a rough sound and leaned in to kiss her. “I cannot bear to think about it.”
“Neither can I.”
As the wind sighed around them, he said softly, “I will stay for a short while. I cannot be with you all night. I will not have the gossips whispering that I seduced another man’s betrothed in my bed.”
“Even if she is willing to be seduced?” Rosetta asked with a coy smile.
His eyes glinted. “You have wildness in you tonight, Briar Rose.”
“Mmm.”
Ash chuckled and then freed his hand from hers. He walked with her to the door into the keep.
As they entered the solar, Ash told the guards outside that he and Rosetta were going to talk in private and that no one was to be allowed in. In the quiet chamber, a freshly stoked fire burned in the hearth. Water had been left for Rosetta to wash before bed.
Rosetta slipped off her cloak and laid it next to her circlet and veil on the trestle table, and then took off her shoes. Watching her, Ash pulled off his boots and left them near the door. A thrill chased through her, for so easily she imagined them together in this chamber as lovers, caught up in heated kissing, their garments whispering as they shed them, piece by piece, until they were both naked and tumbling onto the bed.
Struggling to rein in her thoughts, she crossed to the bed. The ropes creaked as she lay down on her back, her head resting on a pillow, her shimmering skirts settling atop the blankets. Ash climbed onto the mattress beside her, and the bed jostled at his weight.
A thud sounded from underneath.
Frowning, Ash rolled over and peered under the bed. “Ah. I seem to have found my missing eating knife.”
A stinging flush warmed Rosetta’s cheeks. She rose, reached under the furnishing, and retrieved the dagger. After brushing off the dust, she handed the sheathed weapon to him. “I was going to tell you—”
He laughed and took the dagger, his gloved fingers closing around it. “Of course you were…months from now.”
“Sooner than that.” She lay down beside him again on the mattress.
“Were you going to threaten me with the knife? Or mayhap you intended to take poor Herta hostage?”
Rosetta folded her hands across her stomach. “I had not yet decided what I was going to do. My only plan was to use it somehow to escape.”
Grinning, Ash turned onto his right side and gazed down at her.
“You are not angry?” She hadn’t expected him to be amused.
“If you attacked me, I could easily overpower you.”
She rolled her eyes. “How nice to know.”
“I do not think, though, that you would ever hurt anyone unless you had to.” His expression turned solemn. “Not unless your life or the life of someone you loved was threatened.”
“You are right.” She truly hoped she never had to face such a situation.
Rising up to sitting, he lifted the hem of his tunic to reveal his shirt underneath. Drawing the dagger, he cut a strip of linen from the garment. “Why did you do that?” she asked, puzzled. “You just ruined your shirt.”
“A garment can be replaced.” He cut another strip. “You cannot.”
“Ash, for God’s sake—”
“I am not being foolish,” he said firmly. “Our conversation earlier made me realize what I had not before: You are one of the few people in this area to have discovered ancient gold. You are also the only one, I believe, to still be alive.”
“What happened to the others?”
“They were murdered.”
“Murdered!” she echoed. The thought of such violence made her feel ill.
Ash nodded grimly. “If the wrong people learned of your discovery and wanted to glean from you what you found years ago and where—”
“If you are trying to frighten me, you are succeeding.”
Ash slipped the knife back into its sheath. “I do not mean to terrify you. I do, however, want you to be aware of how you are connected to the search for the lost riches. I want you to have a means to defend yourself, especially when you go to Wallensford Keep, because once you leave my castle, I can no longer watch over you. Now, hold out your left arm.”
She rolled onto her side facing him and did as he had commanded. Ash pushed up her sleeve as far as it would go, and then tied the knife to her wrist with the strips of linen. “Keep this dagger with you at all times, until you are free to be with me.”
A hard edge underscored his words. He had not made a request, but given her an order.
“Promise me, Briar Rose. You will keep this weapon on you or within easy reach. Always. All right?”
His intense concern for her made Rosetta’s heart warm with love. “All right.”
A sly smile tilted his mouth as he tugged her sleeve back into place, concealing the dagger. He lay back down on his side. “Now that that is settled…you may kiss me.”
What an excellent idea, when his mouth was so very close. His crooked grin proved how much he looked forward to the kiss; the wildness inside her coaxed her to make him work for it.
Propped up on one arm, she raised her brows. “I may kiss you? As in you have granted me your lordly permission?”
“Aye.” Mischief danced in his eyes.
She giggled, and her gaze settled on his lips. “What kind of a kiss, though? A quick pressing together of our lips? Or a lusty clashing of our mouths and tongues?”
“Since I am endeavoring to be honorable tonight, I suggest a quick kiss.”
“I knew you would.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, delighted when his mouth opened beneath hers to tease, tempt, and seduce. He kissed her with such pure love, such shattering honesty, she was glad when the kiss didn’t turn out to be at all quick.
At last, the rhythm of their kisses slowed, gentled. He lay back and drew her over to him, so that her head rested on his chest and her right arm lay across his belly. She closed her eyes, savoring his warmth and the moment of contentment.
“I am glad you returned to England,” she said softly.
He chuckled. “Even though I kidnapped you?”
“Even though you kidnapped me.”
She sighed, feeling blissfully sleepy. If only she could stay with Ash like this forever.
Even as she dared to indulge in such a dream, a dark thread of foreboding wound around her heart.
“That was a silly move, Uncle.”
Perched on the end of Justin’s bed, with the chamber illuminated by several flickering candles, Ash studied the chess board lying between him and the boy. The lad had suffered another upsetting dream about his father. After Ash had sat with him for a long while and comforted him, Justin had asked for a game of chess.
’Twas the middle of the night, but if a game of chess would help Justin get back to sleep then they would play a game of chess. Justin had chosen the black pieces, leaving Ash to use the white ones.
“Uncle—”
“Sorry.” Ash’s gaze traveled over the wood and leather board inlaid with silver; the pieces were carved from bone. He’d found the set in a shop in London while waiting to meet with a fellow spy. “Ah. I see my mistake now. You can take my queen.”
Justin frowned. “Are you sleeping with your eyes open?”
Ash laughed. “Nay, I am awake.” His thoughts, though, were not on the game, but with Rosetta in the solar. It had been difficult leaving her. Kissing her tonight, lying with her curled up next to him, had only reinforced to him just how much he wanted her to be his wife. Having her by his side, each and every day, would make his life complete.
To think of her searching for damning information on Edric… He hated the thought of her putting herself in such peril. One simple mistake—as he’d made by moving his pawn moments ago without paying too much heed to the other pieces on the board—and their lives could be forever changed.
“If you like, you can move back your knight,” Justin said. “I will pretend I did not notice.”
“’Tis most chivalrous of you,” Ash said with a rueful smile, “but I will accept my error in judgment. I will be more careful with my next move.”
Justin moved his bishop to take Ash’s queen and then removed the piece from the board.
Rubbing his thumb over the carving of a woman wearing long robes and a crown, Justin asked, “Do you think Lady Montgomery knows how to play chess?”
“She does. I taught her.”
“When? In the last couple of days?”
Ash shook his head. “She and I used to play years ago, when I was but a squire at her father’s castle.”
“You knew her that long ago?”
The lad made “that long ago” sound like an eternity. In some ways, though, it had been. “Once, I even thought of marrying Rosetta.” Ash pushed a pawn forward two spaces on the board.
Justin stared at him.
“Your move,” Ash said, gesturing to the chess pieces.
“I know, Uncle, but… Why did you not marry her?”
“I went on Crusade. I did not think it fair—”
“You are back in Warwickshire now. There is no reason why you cannot ask her to be your wife.”
The lad’s voice held such enthusiasm. Did Justin like to think of Rosetta living permanently at Damsley Keep and always being around to help him with his archery practice? “’Tis not so simple,” Ash said. “There are other circumstances and people to consider.”
“The man who gave her that ring, you mean?” Justin snorted. “’Tis an ugly jewel. She deserves something beautiful.”
Ash chuckled; he simply couldn’t help it, for he hated the ring too. “Aye, well—”
“Do you love Lady Montgomery, Uncle?”
The startling question snatched the air from Ash’s lungs. He looked over at his own bed, the sheets rumpled and empty. Never had he imagined that a question would make him feel like he’d been punched hard in the gut.
“Well, do you?”
He sighed. “I do. Very much.”
Justin grinned. Swapping the white queen to his left hand, the boy ran his finger over the points of the piece’s crown. “In the old tales you have told me, the knight never gives up on his quest. ’Tis his duty to do what is right, and to fight for what he believes in, is it not?”
A sense of disquiet rippled through Ash. “True.”
“You are a knight, aye?”
“You know that I am.”
Justin studied him most solemnly, while candlelight played over wall beside him. “If you love her, Uncle, you must fight for her. You must win her away from that other man.”
“Do not worry. I intend to.”
“Promise?”
The boy was most serious. “I promise,” Ash said. He held Justin’s gaze; they’d talked before about the importance of a solemn oath.
The lad smiled as if he had just won the game. Handing the queen to Ash, he said, “I am weary of chess. Can we finish our game tomorrow?”