An Uncertain Choice

She surely wouldn’t have sought me out if she didn’t want to be with me.

I jabbed my fingers in my hair and released a groan. I had the urge to pound the bars and break them down so that I could find her, fall on one knee in front of her, and beg her to marry me.

Although I had no right to ask for her love, although I was still a poor, landless knight with the accusations of crimes upon my shoulders, I knew I must ask her to be my wife. I’d let my past insecurities command me far too long. And I’d waited beyond endurance for the duke to return to clear my name.

Rosemarie’s birthday was on the morrow, and I couldn’t put off the future any longer.

With a surge of renewed will, I pounded my fists together. Yes. Today I would find a way to see her, even if I had to send a message to have her come down to the dungeon. I would tell her I loved her, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life making her happy, that I didn’t want to live another day without her by my side.

We could get married today. In the dungeon. Couldn’t we? Nothing in the exception clause to the Ancient Vow had said anything about where Rosemarie got married or under what circumstances — ?only that she did, by midnight on her eighteenth birthday.

Surely Rosemarie wouldn’t care that the duke hadn’t returned with the evidence to clear my name yet. I’d seen the trust in her eyes. She didn’t believe I’d committed the crimes.

Even so, my muscles tightened at the thought of asking her to marry me and at what her answer would be. If by some chance she agreed to my proposal, I wanted better for her than this cell. I brushed a hand against the slimy stone wall and listened to the scratching claws of a scampering rat.

Was I a fool to believe she’d return my love?

The echo of a door opening far above the dungeon was followed by footsteps. I blew out a breath, straightened myself, and waited by the bars. Finally.

After several long moments, the footsteps sounded in the passageway outside the dungeon, keys jangled in the lock, and the door squealed open. Through the light of the torch, I squinted and could make out the shape of the day jailer.

“Brought you something to eat, Sir Derrick,” the jailer said in a gruff whisper. “Even though apparently I’m not supposed to.”

Something in the jailer’s tone sent my nerves into a headlong charge. “What’s happened? Is Lady Rosemarie safe?”

“Oh, she’s safe as can be.” The jailer approached and slid a steaming mug through the bars. “Heard she left last night for the convent. Guess she decided to go a day early.”

Left for the convent? Every last bit of the frustration I’d been feeling since last night spilled out of me and left an eerie emptiness in its place. “So she just left. Without saying good-bye?”

“Rumor going around the castle this morn is that she thought it would be easier on everyone if she left without making a big fuss.”

I stared at the thick slice of bread on top of the soup mug, my appetite suddenly gone. So that’s why she hadn’t called for me to join her for our midnight game of chess.

She’d left.

A blaze of searing hot pain ripped through my chest, leaving me breathless. Even my hands shook, and I had to take a quick step away from the bars so that the jailer wouldn’t see my reaction and brand me as a weakling.

She hadn’t loved me enough to stay. She’d chosen a life in the convent over a life with me.

“Sure do wish we could have said good-bye to the lady,” the jailer said, moving back to the door.

“Yes,” I replied. She could have at the very least come to me and told me of her decision. I would have expected no less of her.

“I know she would have wanted us to continue treating you kindly, sir.” The jailer paused before the door. “She was clear on that.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your kindness,” I managed, even though my chest was caving in and I could hardly think straight to get the words out.

“I don’t care what Father Abbot’s orders are,” the jailer tossed over his shoulder. “If Lady Rosemarie insisted we feed you and keep you comfortable, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“What do you mean, the abbot’s orders?” I called after him.

The jailer shrugged. “He said he’s the one who’ll be making the rules from now on.”

So I’d been right. The abbot had wanted Lady Rosemarie to enter the convent so he could continue to control her, perhaps gain even more power.

As the door closed and darkness fell around me, I leaned back against the cold wall and sank to the floor. The mug of soup fell to the ground next to me, spilling the precious drops of liquid. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care that it was likely the last bit of food I’d be given. As kind as the jailer had been, I knew no one in the castle would be able to defy the abbot’s orders for long. He wielded a strong power.

I leaned my head back and stared at the black nothingness above me. My heart pulsed in painful spurts, and my chest ached so deeply I felt as if a lance had been thrust through my body.