An Uncertain Choice

After four years of isolation and missing my parents, I’d never felt as alone as I did now. It was only when I was outside the castle walls visiting my people and delivering goods among the poor that I could forget about the ache.

I released a long sigh that echoed in the emptiness of the hall.

As the guards opened the double doors for the abbot, my porter, James, entered the hall. He was a hulk of a man, with broad shoulders and beefy arms, and he stood a head taller than most, reminding me of a giant. At the sight of the abbot, James came to a halt and ducked his large, bald head.

“What do you need, James?” the abbot asked, eyeing the servant.

“I’ve a message for her ladyship.” James’s response came out in his usual gruff tone.

“Lady Rosemarie is distressed from a torture she witnessed today,” the abbot said. “Step outside and deliver the message to me. Then I’ll determine whether she needs to receive it.”

James turned to do the abbot’s bidding.

“No,” I said, daring to defy my councilor. I wanted — ?needed — ?to talk with someone, even if it was only a servant.

The abbot’s brows rose.

“I’m not too distressed to speak with James.” I motioned him toward me. James lumbered down the aisle. Not long after my parents died, when I’d been alone, young, and vulnerable, the abbot had decided James would add another layer of defense to my castle as the one in charge of its main entrance, as well as be available as a personal bodyguard should the need arise. The first time I’d met James, when the abbot had brought him to the castle, I’d half expected the hulk to pull out an enormous club and bat away anyone who dared approach me. Since then, I’d come to realize James might look intimidating, but that’s as far as the bravado went.

As he reached my golden chair, he bowed, revealing the abbot, who had followed closely behind him.

“Deliver your message, James,” I said.

James kept his head bowed. “Your ladyship is to have guests.”

Guests? The very mention of the word sent a ripple of surprise through me. “Do they come in peace?”

“Yes, your ladyship.”

“It’s been so long.” The last visitor had been after the Feast of Epiphany months ago. And even that had been only because my neighbors to the south, the Baron of Caldwell and his wife, had been traveling to court and had been caught in a storm. They’d stopped to seek refuge for a night. Seeing them had brought back painful memories of their son, Thomas, and the last time we’d been together. Though I’d only been fourteen at the time, the attraction between us had been strong and our plans for the future had been so bright.

The vow had taken away all my dreams of a life with Thomas — ?or with any man. As a woman destined for celibacy, I’d had no right to hold on to love and plans for marriage. I’d let Thomas go, though it had been hard. And he’d done likewise. If Thomas had tried to cling to me, he would have put my life in danger, for the vow my parents made was unbreakable except by death.

I’d assumed that I’d long past buried my feelings for Thomas . . . until Baroness Caldwell informed me that he’d finally married last autumn.

Why guests today? Why now?

James watched me, as if he had heard my unspoken questions and expected me to know the answers.

But I had no explanation. Thankfully, it was Midsummer’s Eve. If I had guests this day, at least I’d be prepared to feed them. I’d already planned a lavish feast, as I did every year for all the servants along with the garrison of soldiers who worked within the walls of my castle. I always made sure the Midsummer’s Eve feast was much more extravagant than necessary so that afterward the poor beggars who came to the kitchen door would have plenty to eat.

“Did they give word on when they would arrive?” I asked with a shiver of anticipation.

“The messenger said they’re but a half day’s ride away, my lady. They’ll reach the town walls by eventide.”

I nodded, thinking of the knight who’d rescued the criminals from their torture. Had he been the messenger?

As if thinking the same thing, the abbot’s thin brows came together in a frown. “If this was the same knight who was in town earlier, dressed in his battle armor, then how do we know he comes in peace and not ready to wage war?”

James ducked his head and shied a step away from the abbot. “The messenger claimed he was riding with the Noblest Knight.”

The Noblest Knight, the Duke of Rivenshire? I couldn’t help myself — ?my heart expanded with a sudden bloom of hope. “Truly?”