An Uncertain Choice

His grin inched higher. “I would enjoy engaging you in a chess match, my lady. I think you’d be in for a surprise.”


Behind us, the duke cleared his throat, reminding us of the late hour and the inappropriateness of being together under the circumstances — ?especially in light of the abbot’s concerns earlier. I took a quick step back, relieved at the darkness that could hide the heat infusing my cheeks.

Sir Derrick took a step after me. “Wait, my lady,” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder to where the duke still stood, seemingly studying the chessboard. I was sure he watched our every move.

Sir Derrick lowered his voice. “I wanted to beg your forgiveness for my forwardness earlier today.”

My mind flashed back to the encounter outside the kitchen, to his soft caress on my cheek and the warmth of his mouth near mine.

“Will you forgive me for my boldness?”

“Of course.” I didn’t harbor any ill-will for our encounter. Quite the opposite. But I couldn’t very well admit I’d liked being near him.

“I don’t know what came over me, and I promise I shall do better in the future.”

Did I want him to do better?

I nodded and ducked my head to hide my own confusing desires. And then, before he could sense the conflicted emotions within me, I retreated into the darkness of the hallway that was untouched by the light of the candle and hearth.

“Goodnight, Sir Derrick.”

“Goodnight, my lady. Sweet dreams.”

With Pup in my bed and thoughts of Sir Derrick on my mind, perhaps I really could forget my nightmares and have sweet dreams.

At that thought, mortification crashed through me. Now who was being the bold one? How dare I think about Sir Derrick in my dreams?

I moved swiftly up the spiral stairway, leaving my faithful old guard far behind. I suddenly needed to put as much distance as possible between the handsome knight and myself.





Chapter

8




The next morning, I awoke to a flurry of activities. My dear friend, the Noblest Knight, the Duke of Rivenshire, had begun making arrangements for the courtship process. He announced that over the coming weeks he would host a hunting party, a dance, and a jousting tournament.

In addition, he wanted to give each of the young knights the opportunity to plan an outing of their own, something special that would give them the chance to spend time alone with me — ?with a chaperone, of course.

Sir Collin was the first to orchestrate his special event: a romantic dinner for two in my rose garden. Dressed in a doublet threaded with what appeared to be real silver, he held out my chair with a flourish. “For you, my lady.”

Strands of his blond hair dipped over his forehead, and his grin rose on one side in an adorable quirk. As he helped push in my chair, I took in the elaborate decorations on the long table. The biggest bouquet of roses I’d ever seen graced the center amidst crystal goblets and gold platters loaded with delicacies of all kinds. The garden itself had been transformed with candelabras glowing among hundreds of roses garnishing hanging trellises, their petals fluttering gently in the summer breeze.

“I’m speechless,” I said, drinking in the beauty.

He took his seat next to mine, and his grin widened. “I hope that means you like it.”

“I love it.”

“Before we start our meal,” he said, his smile disappearing and his expression growing serious, “I have something for you.” Sir Collin reached into his pocket and retrieved a small pouch. He drew open the strings and took out a gold bracelet. It was a plain band, devoid of jewels and instead engraved with a spiraling rose pattern.

He held it out to me. “I had this especially made for you by the local goldsmith.”

It was stunning. But I couldn’t accept such a gift, could I?

“Since I gave you something too lavish before with the diamond pin,” he said, his smile returning with a teasing glimmer, “I thought this time I should keep it simpler.”

He reached for my hand, and as his fingers grazed mine, my breath caught. Gently, he slid the bracelet on until it reached my wrist.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, hardly seeing the bracelet. Instead I watched his fingers twist the gold band, relishing the faint brush of his fingertips.

At a soft cough from a corner bench, Sir Collin let go of me and sat back in his chair. Tucked in a nearby corner of the garden sat the abbot, his head bent over a thick prayer book. Even though he was reading, I had no doubt he was well aware of every word we spoke and every move we made.

“Thank you.” I felt like a little girl caught in the kitchen sneaking a sweetmeat.