Lady Rowena's Ruin. Carol Townend
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her new role, she was anxious to please Eric. Rowena didn’t like to think about the implications of that.
Helvise wrestled with the bedclothes, tugging off the top sheet which she offered to Rowena. ‘Very well, my lady, but you must use this linen. Yesterday Sir Eric sent someone into Provins to buy it especially for you.’
Pleased that she had at last brought an end to the argument, Rowena accepted the sheet and thumped and pummelled the worst of the lumps into submission. ‘Goodnight, Helvise.’
‘Goodnight, my lady.’
Helvise’s voice was so mournful, it struck Rowena that perhaps she was misjudging her. She had jumped to the conclusion that Helvise disliked her, she could be wrong. It was obvious that Helvise was deeply unhappy.
As Rowena closed her eyes she resolved that in the morning she would find out why. Rolling on to her side, her fingers curled into a fist. She willed them to relax. She might not like the answer, but she had to know. Who was the father of Helvise’s child? If it wasn’t Eric, who was it? What had happened to him? Why was Helvise on her own?
* * *
Rowena was in the habit of rising early and she and Helvise went down to the hall to break their fast shortly after dawn. A number of servants and soldiers were ahead of them. Rowena knew a few of them by name already.
‘Good morning, Sergeant Yder.’
‘Good morning, my lady.’
Exchanging smiles and greetings with Eric’s household, Rowena took the place she had taken last night. Eric’s seat was empty, neither he nor his squire were in the hall.
‘Where’s Sir Eric?’ she asked.
A serving woman Rowena remembered as being called Pascale drifted over with a basket of loaves. ‘Sir Eric’s in the stables. Would you care for some bread, my lady?’ With a smile, Pascale offered her the basket.
‘Thank you, Pascale.’
Instead of turning away when Rowena had taken her bread, Pascale dipped into the basket herself and held out a posy of violets tied with green ribbon. ‘For you, my lady, from Sir Eric.’
Conscious of Helvise’s mournful gaze and Sergeant Yder’s wry grin, Rowena felt herself flush as she took the violets. ‘Thank you, they are lovely.’ The flowers trembled as she set them down next to her bread. No one had given her flowers before. Even though she knew Eric had made the gesture to win her over, it was oddly touching.
‘Sir Eric said that if you would care for a morning ride, my lady, he would be delighted to escort you,’ Pascale added. ‘When you have broken your fast, you will find him in the stables.’
* * *
Eric and Alard were talking in the yard when she emerged. Two horses—Rowena was pleased to see that Lily was one of them—had their reins looped round a ring in the wall.
‘The violets are lovely,’ Rowena said, lifting her skirts clear of some straw as she came across. ‘Thank you.’
Eric swept her a bow. ‘It is my pleasure. You would care to ride this morning?’
‘I would love to.’
Eric ran his gaze over her, frowning. ‘Alard, go and ask Helvise to fetch Lady Rowena’s cloak, will you? There’s quite a breeze.’
As Alard loped back towards the manor, Rowena went over to stroke Lily’s nose. The mare whickered in greeting. ‘I am glad you didn’t leave Lily behind,’ she said. ‘I would miss her.’
‘I know. You always did love your horses.’
Eric came to stand next to her, and once again Rowena was struck by his height, she found it slightly daunting. As a young man he’d been tall and lanky. He’d put on a lot of muscle since then, he looked so strong. Would he want to dominate her as her father dominated her mother? Then he gave her an easy smile and she glimpsed the friend that he had been and her fear dissolved.
‘You should have let me ride Lily on the way here,’ she said. ‘It would have been more comfortable for you.’
Firmly, he shook his head. ‘You might have galloped off.’ His eyes danced as he took her hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘I never thought to be asked to guard a gem as precious as you, I couldn’t risk losing you.’
Slowly, green eyes watching her face, Eric turned her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. Rowena’s mouth went dry.
‘Sir, please.’ Embarrassed, Rowena tugged her hand free. Saints, what was wrong with her? It seemed the man had but to touch her and she felt as though she was melting. Mathieu had never made her feel like that.
Eric’s gaze lingered on her mouth. ‘Besides, I liked having you ride with me. It was much more fun with you in my arms.’ He stepped closer and leaned in to whisper, ‘We could try it again today.’
Rowena caught one of the grooms grinning her way and stepped back smartly. ‘I think not.’
‘Pity.’
Rowena backed into Lily. Eric’s shameless flirting was making it hard to breathe. ‘Sir, you overwhelm me. We have not yet agreed we will actually marry. We should renew our acquaintance first.’
He drew back, expression sobering. ‘My apologies.’ He turned to his horse to check the girth and Rowena was once again able to breathe. ‘I pray you will agree. Rowena, I swear that if you accept me, I shall do my utmost to make a good husband.’
Rowena gripped Lily’s bridle. She couldn’t help thinking about Helvise and it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him whether he considered being a faithful husband was a necessary part of marriage, but she said nothing. It was far too leading a question and their renewed acquaintance was of too short a duration for her to risk posing it. She wished she knew the answer though, because she really thought she could marry him. This was Eric, after all. Except, a sneaking fear lingered, she didn’t want to become betrothed to a man who already had a lover. She had done it once before and, although her heart hadn’t been engaged, it had caused no end of trouble.
Spirits sinking, she stared at Eric. She didn’t think she could marry him if she had to share him. Her pulse speeded up. Apart from his tendency to flirt with every woman he met, the idea of marrying him was becoming more alluring by the moment.
Alard appeared at the head of the steps, her cloak over his arm. ‘Here you are, my lady,’ he said, hurrying over. ‘I brought your gloves too.’
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