“My lady,” he said gently, proffering a hand to steady her. “I mislike that I have only to step near you and you are falling about yourself to get away from me. ’Tis not the reaction I desire. ” He spoke without jest, seeing the apprehension in her face. “Why is that so?”
“My lor—Sir, I—’tis only that—”
He stepped forward to grasp her small hand—which she had not extended toward his offered one, closing his fingers around her smooth skin. “You may call me ‘my lord,’ Lady Joanna. I am Bernard Derkland…and I am most delighted to know you. ” And then, without giving a thought to her reaction, he slid his hand up her arm, pushing up the sleeve of her gown nearly to her shoulder. Rage surged through him anew at the sight of the bluish-green, black and purple mottles on her creamy skin.
“I would kill he who would do this to a woman,” he breathed through teeth clenched so hard that his head hurt. “Joanna, who?”
She had already jerked away, stepping on the fragrant lavender. Her determined actions and expression showed him that she was not the simple, cowering woman she appeared. “Leave your hands from me, and your interests thither, Si—Lord Bernard. Please. There is naught that you—or anyone—can do. And do not call me Joanna!”
“My lady, I—”
“Nay!” Her voice rose even as she pressed her hand against his chest. This movement stilled him, this first time she reached to touch him—though the message of the touch was naught but a rebuff. “Nay, my lord, your interference would serve only to incense him further…and make it all the more difficult for me. ”
Then, as though realizing where they were, she whirled to look toward the stable and the bailey as if afraid they might have been seen. Fortunately, during the c
ourse of their conversation, they’d moved behind a cluster of raspberry bushes and were out of sight of anyone walking toward the stables. The scent of the crushed lavender hung in the air, along with the faint perfume of roses. “Please, Lord Bernard, if he were to find us…”
“Is it Ralf? Is he your husband? Is it he who lays his hand upon you thus?” Bernard reached, gently closing his fingers around her cleft chin, reveling in the warmth of her sun-drenched skin. He looked into her eyes, past the gray-blue color of her irises and into their depths. He saw fear and anxiety, but he did not see repulsion or anger. He breathed a mental sigh of relief. She was not afraid of him.
“Aye. ” Her voice was but a breath, but it was all he needed.
“Then I will rid you of him. And you shall be free to wed with me. ” His words were soft, steely, and deadly serious.
“You—but Lord Bernard, you cannot! Wed with you?” Her shock at the first part of his threat seemed to disintegrate as she fixated on the latter promise. “Wed with you?” Shock lined her beautiful, heart-shaped face as she looked up at him, hands raised in front of her as if to thrust him away. “Are you mad? I am wed, and—and you know naught of me to say that you will marry me. ”
Bernard laughed in spite of the unhappy situation. She was so incredibly lovely. And she had a spine, she did, under the weight of the fear from her own husband.
If Bernard could indeed remove that fear from her eyes, she would make a fine wife…and a fine chatelaine for Derkland Castle.
“Lady Joanna, I know as much as I need know that you are the woman I have waited to marry. My father has groused at me for over the last fortnight and now that I have found you, I will find a way to please him and marry you at the nonce. ”
She sank to the ground, not as if in obeisance, but as though her legs could no longer hold her up under the weight of this conversation. Bernard knelt next to her, taking care not to tread upon her skirts, but arranging himself closely enough that he could smell the femininity of her scent.
“Lord Bernard, you truly know nothing of me. How can you? We’ve met naught but once…. ” She raised her face to his and his breath caught in his throat at the hunger in her eyes…the hunger, he saw, not for him as much as to know that there was something of herself that he should want.
Fury seized him at the thought of this beautiful creature being abused by the man who should have been her protector, and even her love…and the realization that she thought herself unlovable. He quelled the anger that rose inside him, taking care to keep his expression easy and calm. It wouldn’t do for him to give her cause to fear him as well.
“I know that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he told her quietly. Then, with the flash of jest, he added, “with the exception of my mother. ” He pretended to think for a moment, then added, “Nay, you are even more beautiful than she. ” Her smile came and went, leaving more than a trace of sadness in its wake.
“I have never met my mother, as she perished birthing Ava when I was but two summers. ”
Bernard closed his fingers over her hand resting on the ground, feeling the warmth of her next to the cool moistness of the rich earth. Somehow he knew it was of grave importance to make her feel as beautiful inside as he found her appearance. “In our brief meetings, I’ve learned that beyond your lovely face and beautiful form, you are a kind-hearted woman who would put her own comfort and safety at risk for the life of a cat and her litter. I know that you speak well even to serfs such as the lowly stable boy Leonard. I know that you care for your sister and wished to spare her any angst that might have come her way on the night of her wedding. I know, too, that you are brave enough to stand up to a man when you are not trapped with him by marriage—which means that you are not foolish in your bravery, only prudent. And I know that my heart has been yours from the moment I pinned your thick, heavy braid into your hair last even, smelled the lavender water you must use, and felt the softness of your skin. ”
He looked into her eyes—eyes that now held wonder—and said, “That is all I need to know, Joanna. ”
“My lord…. Bernard…. ” she breathed, her fingers twisting in his to cling to his hand. “I…. ”
“I vow to you, Joanna, on the life of my father and mother—and my own—that I will find a way to free you from the ties by which you are bound. And then, if you will have me, I will wed you and care for you and love you all of our days. ”
The perfume of the roses about them touched his nose, mingling with that of the crushed lavender and Joanna’s own erotic scent. It was too much for him to resist—he leaned forward to taste her parted lips.
She trembled under him, and moved not at all but for that slight tremor, so he forced himself to barely brush against her mouth, taking care not to drag the bristles of his beard and moustache too harshly over her tender skin. Joanna’s lips were sweet and plump and warm, as he’d known they’d be…and she tasted of mint and strawberries—or something like them.
Or mayhap ’twas just her. Just Joanna.
When she began to pull back, he allowed her to do so immediately and took a deep breath to slow his racing heart. “And now that I know you taste like heaven,” he murmured, the intensity of his emotions coming out as a crooked smile, “I am thrice as indebted to my vow. ”
Knowing they’d tested Fate long enough, and not able to trust that he wouldn’t put her to the test again, he pulled to his feet. “I must leave you now, Joanna. But know that you are not alone…nor will you be. ”