Dragon's Knight, page 11
Ulrick took a deep breath. “Very well then, my lady, but you must not leave this chamber. And you will not open the door even for your bath, lest it be brought by the landlady herself.”
Aislynn wanted to sigh at these extreme measures, yet she held his gaze without wavering. “On my oath.”
After another long, tense moment, Ulrick bowed, but his expression continued to be disturbed as he left, closing the door firmly behind him. She was aware of him waiting in the hall and she moved forward shooting the bolt home loudly. Only then did the clump of Sir Ulrick’s footsteps sound as he moved off down the hall.
It was Sadona herself who spoke from outside the door sometime later. “My lady.”
Already chafing in the confines of the tiny chamber, Aislynn nonetheless moved to open the portal with reluctance. She did not wish to be in the same room with a woman who was very likely Jarrod’s paramour.
When she did open it she saw that the landlady stood next to a wooden tub that was barely bigger than the cooking pots at Bransbury. The woman seemed completely unaware of her disappointment. “I’ve brought the tub. My girl usually carries the water, but I’ve promised your knight that I will do so myself.”
Aislynn stepped back as Sadona shoved the tub into the room with her leather-shod foot.
Aislynn said with deliberate civility, “There is no need for you to go to such trouble.”
The woman put her hand on her hip, wiping a strand of hair from her bright green eyes. “Aye, I’ve given my word and that is reason enough for me.” With that she turned and strode from the chamber, presumably to fetch the water.
Being mindful of her own promise in the face of the other’s integrity, Aislynn shot the bolt home once more. But she stayed by the door and opened it again the instant she heard her hostess’s footsteps in the hallway.
The landlady stood there, as well as a comely maid of mid-teen years. Each of them carried two steaming buckets. But the younger set hers down and scurried back down the stairs without speaking. As Sadona brought her two into the room, Aislynn fetched the other two.
Sadona seemed somewhat surprised but nodded her thanks as Aislynn poured the water into the tub along with her. She then moved to the door with the buckets. “Is there aught else that you require, my lady?”
Aislynn shook her head, but as Sadona turned to go, she found herself speaking up, “Your pardon.”
The older woman swung around. “Aye.”
Aislynn felt herself flushing. “You are a friend of Sir Jarrod?”
The woman’s arched brows rose knowingly. “Aye, a friend.”
Aislynn could not fathom what that tone and expression might mean. She shrugged, feeling her heart sink further although she knew she had no right to ask. Jarrod had made it clear that he would not welcome her prying in his life.
The other woman smiled at her suddenly. “Saints above, I must put you out of your misery. I am indeed friend to Sir Jarrod, but pray have no concern, for that is all I have ever been. He is also friend to my good husband, Lewis.”
Aislynn felt her spirits lift at this news while she tried to deny her own feelings as she said, “What Sir Jarrod might have done, or what he might do in future are naught to me.”
The other woman chuckled softly. “Forgive me, for speaking thusly to my betters, my lady, but if that be true I’ve three arms.”
Aislynn felt herself flush from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, as the woman went on, “And there’s far less worthy a man that a young girl could set her heart on in spite of his parentage. ’Twas he who lent the money to me and my Lewis to purchase this place.” Her face glowed with pride. “Though he’s been repaid his investment in these two short years.” She focused on Aislynn once more, “Aye, there’s far worse a girl could do than Sir Jarrod.”
Aislynn’s eyes widened with horror, though she tried to hide this as she said, “I fear you have the wrong impression.”
“Do I then?”
She felt the stiffness in herself. “Aye, Sir Jarrod is not…we are not…you should not speak thusly.”
There was a sympathy in Sadona’s warm gaze that made Aislynn’s heart ache, even as the woman bowed again. “Forgive me for presuming, my lady.”
Shocked, Aislynn held out a hand, “Nay, I did not mean to reprimand you…you have not…I simply wish for you to understand the situation properly.”
The woman subsided.
Aislynn went on. “I thank you for your kindness to me, madam. And believe it is sincerely meant.”
Sadona shrugged. “I have seen the way you and Sir Jarrod look at each other. The way you looked at me when he kissed me. It does my heart good to see his feelings awakened again after so very long.”
Aislynn ignored her discomfort at this assessment of her and Jarrod’s relationship. She was less interested in refuting it than she was in finding out what the woman was speaking of. “What do you mean, awakened again?”
The other woman bit her lip, now seeming uncertain. “I would not speak out of hand, my lady. Sir Jarrod has been more than kind to me and my Lewis.” She glanced down and she went on, “You see I was no more than a camp follower when first I saw Sir Jarrod some eight years ago. If I had not been in that profession I would never have known of his attachment to Fatima.”
“Fatima?” Aislynn whispered the name.
“Aye, lovely she was but quite a lot older than the knight. She was an outcast amongst her own people, who did not accept her profession. Sir Jarrod came to the camp several times to see her, but only talked until one night when he paid to go into her tent.”
Aislynn grimaced and Sadona shook her head as she said, “Nay, have no worry. This is no tale of passion, at least on her part, for there was immediately a loud exchange, with her demanding that he leave and not return.” Sadona sighed. “You should have seen Sir Jarrod’s face as he left, so dark with pain that one could hardly bear to look upon it.” She took a deep breath. “And I never saw him there again until she died some month’s later, having been ill for long before any of us knew. It was then he came back, paid for the expenses of her burial. I never asked him what had gone between them and I believe that is why we were able to become friends. I simply sat with him until the pain had eased. It was he who introduced me to my Lewis and offered us the gold when he discovered that we had a dream of marrying and buying an inn.”
She looked closely at Aislynn then. “He is a good man, a kind man and deserving of much love. You must have a care with his heart. For I have seen firsthand that, in spite of his seeming self-reliance, he can be hurt.”
Aislynn was somewhat overwhelmed with all she had just heard, but she could not allow the other woman to imagine something that was not, especially in the face of her care for Jarrod. “I fear you have misunderstood. Sir Jarrod and I…we are not lovers. My brother, Christian, is missing and he is simply taking me to find him.”
The other woman’s gaze seemed doubtful, but all she said was, “Then I pray you find him, for I know Jarrod loves him as a brother.”
Aislynn nodded and said, “I thank you,” but her mind was reeling.
Sadona bowed, then turned and left the room, closing the door gently behind her. The silence that followed told of her presence outside. So stunned was Aislynn by the exchange that it was a moment before she realized Sadona was awaiting the closing of the lock.
Aislynn hurried to do so, leaning back against the door as she heard the woman’s footsteps disappear down the landing.
So Jarrod had been in love, and he had been rejected. No wonder he was so very adamant about his freedom. He had been hurt badly enough that he had no desire to ever love again. His heart had been given to an Eastern woman who had called to the dark and mysterious part of himself—someone quite unlike Aislynn.
She had a vivid image of that blue ribbon and his reaction to her questions about it. How could any woman ever hope to win his love when he was so irrevocably bound to the ghost of one long dead?
Inside Aislynn was a strange hollow ache of regret. And even when she told herself that this was ridiculous, as she had her own life to live, her own marriage ahead of her, it refused to ease.
When Aislynn awakened to an incessant pounding at her door, she immediately knew who it was.
Jarrod Maxwell.
Ulrick would never allow himself to put on such a rude and autocratic display.
In spite of the fact that his manner was utterly maddening, Aislynn’s mind was somewhat hazy as she sat up on her pallet. Never had she expected to fall asleep when she had lain down upon it after her awkward bath in the tiny wooden tub. Yet she had done so in spite of the thoughts spinning through her mind, thoughts of Jarrod and his love for a ghost.
Again came the pounding and, with it, Jarrod’s angry voice. “Aislynn! Open this door at once!”
His autocratic tone chased any hint of grogginess from her mind. No matter how secretly sad or lonely he might be, the blackguard could not be allowed to dictate to her. Thus it was with deliberate unconcern that Aislynn rose and pulled the heavy woolen blanket about her for modesty. For she had dressed in a clean shift after washing her other shift and gown in the bathwater and hanging them from the windowsill to dry.
The moment she opened the door, Jarrod Maxwell strode through and slammed it behind him. He then turned a black frown upon her and said in an accusatory tone, “Where is Sir Ulrick?”
She attempted unconcern. “If you must know, I sent him on an errand.”
“You sent him on an errand? Have you completely lost your wits? He was to watch over you.” His voice was incredulous.
Calling on all her powers of self-assurance, Aislynn moved away from him to settle upon the edge of the pallet. “I have not lost my wits. And I will thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head when speaking to me, sir.”
His hands went to his narrow hips as he moved to glare down at her. “You will thank me? Good God, Aislynn, but you can be quite insolent.”
She shrugged, though her gaze narrowed on his. “You accuse me of that when you come bursting in here this way, treating me with a complete lack of chivalry. But why am I reminding you of this when we have had extensive discourse on this very subject previously.” She raised her brows. “Perhaps it is uncommon for a lady to be held in respect off in the heathen lands where you have made your home over the last years. It is not so here in England.”
He fairly glowered at this.
She again reminded herself that it was not unreasonable for Jarrod to treat her with some deference. She had only sent Ulrick to find out about the man who had looked upon Jarrod with such utter hatred.
She had been afraid for him. She still was, despite his lack of appreciation.
But never would she have him know that now. He was a knave and a fool.
Aislynn watched his set, angry face as she continued, “You might attempt to behave politely, Sir Jarrod. The results would likely surprise you.”
The chagrin on his face told her that she had penetrated that outraged demeanor. Slowly he took a deep breath, then let it out. The too controlled tone of his voice told her just how difficult it was when he at last replied, “Very well then, Aislynn, I shall attempt to be polite, though the effort plagues me greatly. And you shall explain why you would send Ulrick on an errand when you knew that I had sent him to watch over you. And not only by my own wishes, but also your father’s. You know full well that Ulrick and I have been charged with making sure you are safe until we have found Christian.”
That made her waver in her angry defiance and she said with less antagonism, “How did you know that Ulrick was gone? He could have been in this very room keeping me company.”
He grimaced. “It was Sadona who inadvertently gave you away by telling me that you had followed the knight’s directions to the letter about keeping your door locked. She thought I would be pleased.”
Aislynn found herself telling Jarrod the truth, though she did not expect him to be happy with her. “I sent him to make enquiries about the man at the market.”
“The man at the market?”
“Aye, the one who attempted to challenge you to fight with him.”
Jarrod took a calming breath. “I know of whom you speak. I simply do not understand why you would send Ulrick on such a pointless quest. That matter is over and done. It was the moment the madman left our sight.”
Aislynn shook her head. “You must not disregard what I told you of him. He means you harm. I am certain of it.”
He ran an agitated hand through his thick black hair. “I do not disregard what you say out of hand, Aislynn. I simply cannot fathom what reason he could have for bearing any personal animosity toward me. I do not know him. Aside from that I have other matters that demand my attention at the moment.”
“Other matters. What could be more important than guarding your life against possible harm?” She threw up her hands in frustration.
He said slowly, carefully, “I must find Christian. I will find Christian. None of us can rest until that is done.”
She looked at him. “You will not be able to find Christian if that man does you ill. He…”
He held up a hand to forestall her. “He will not do me ill.”
“I believe he will try, and if you are not attending, he could succeed. Why would you doubt me?”
He sighed. “I do not doubt that you believe this, Aislynn. But I see no cause to become completely overset. You do not know those of his kind as I do. They go about challenging all who cross their path. It is a way of proving their manhood.”
She faced him earnestly. “Even if that is true, it does not mean that he is not a danger to you.”
He sighed again, more heavily. “I would not give him the benefit of reacting with trepidation. I have lived most of my life in a state of war, surrounded by those who felt I was their enemy. And yet I am alive.”
Aislynn bit her lower lip. She could not allow the matter to rest inside her. She knew, without knowing how she knew, that there had been something deeply hateful in that man’s eyes as he looked at Jarrod. It was something that went far beyond any desire to prove his manhood.
And her concern for him overshadowed everything, including all that Sadona had told her. Jarrod must not take chances with his life.
She had done right to send Ulrick to find out whatever he could about the man. No matter that he claimed himself a man who preferred freedom to all things, Jarrod Maxwell seemed to make his presence felt wherever he passed. He left his mark on all, from the lowliest peasant child who might hold his mount, to Sadona and Lewis, to his long-dead love, as well as herself and her father.
In spite of his refusal to see to his own well-being, and the fact that he had treated her with such a lack of care, she could not see Jarrod harmed.
Chapter Eight
Jarrod’s frustration with Aislynn left him with a growing impulse to throttle her. At the same time he was aware of pleasure at her concern for him over the matter of this unknown knight. His pleasure made it difficult to maintain his anger toward her. But he could not simply allow her to act so rashly, even if she did accuse him of being unchivalrous by being angry with her. Jarrod was not in the least bit moved by her assertion that noblemen did not treat their ladies thusly. He knew a bit more than that about the ways of men and women. His own father had never raised his voice to his stepmother in Jarrod’s hearing, true enough, but then they had never exchanged any but the most formal of words in his presence—ever.
He found himself watching Aislynn as she stared toward the open window. He allowed his gaze to glide over her delicate profile, that stubborn little nose. Clean and damp, the pale silken curtain of her hair fell down her back to her hips, soft strands of it clinging to the woolen cloth beneath it.
Jarrod’s gaze widened as for the first time he realized that Aislynn was not fully clothed. Around her was a thin woolen blanket, which draped her small but womanly form most enticingly, embracing her every curve. From where she clutched it closed above her breast, he had an unrestricted view of her creamy neck and shoulders.
So lovely. Were he Aislynn’s husband, their interactions could never be so stilted and formal as his father and stepmother’s had been. They would…
Jarrod felt his eyes widen with horror.
He looked down at the scarred wood floor. He said roughly, “I will leave you and seek my own bed. We must make an early start.”
“But you have not told me you would have a care.” In her eyes he saw the raw fear as she moved close and placed a hand upon his arm.
He was infinitely aware of her hand on his arm and the soft white skin at the base of her throat. Jarrod felt his heart thud in his chest at her nearness. He swallowed. “Do not worry, Aislynn, I will be well.”
Her voice was a husky whisper and now he heard the yearning beneath her fear, “I pray it be so. But I can not help it…I could not bear it if something were to…”
Without even knowing that he was going to do so, Jarrod held out his arms and she stepped into them. And then she was close against him, the blanket disguising little of the delicious line of her back and hips. He felt a rush of heat so intense it nearly made his knees buckle.
She strained up against him, her head thrown back, her breathing shallow. Looking down at her that way, her face flushed, her lips parted, Jarrod could no more deny the invitation offered than stop the sands from blowing across the deserts of his native land. He bent, his mouth closing on those soft, beckoning lips.
Aislynn raised her arms to encircle his neck, feeling her blanket slip away, leaving her standing there in nothing but the gossamer-thin cover of her shift. But she was not aware of any chill, for the heat engendered by Jarrod’s lips, his hands, was enough to warm her from the inside out.
Distantly she was aware of how immense this moment was. But she was too caught up in her own feelings, the wonder of being in Jarrod’s arms. His strong hands slid down her back to pull her more firmly up against him, his tongue flicking out to taste her lips. Aislynn felt the world tilt and didn’t care if it never righted itself again.
