Reclaimed by Her Rebel Knight

‘Go ahead.’ His father clutched at his throat, making rasping sounds as he staggered back to his feet. ‘You couldn’t beat me then and you won’t beat me now, boy.’

‘I’m not a boy.’ Matthew turned his back, fixing his eyes on hers and moving towards her as if she were a beacon. ‘Neither is Alan.’

‘Then you can get out of my home. Wintercott is mine for as long as I draw breath and you’re not welcome here any longer.’

‘I never was.’ Matthew didn’t bother to look around, grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her after him. ‘We’re leaving.’

Chapter Twenty

Constance felt her spirits leap at her first sight of Lacelby. It was twilight, almost too dark for travel, but Matthew had insisted on their leaving Wintercott at once. After his argument with his father, the reasons for which he still hadn’t sufficiently explained, she’d barely had a chance to pull on her cloak and gather a few belongings before a contingent of Sir Ralph’s men had arrived to escort them to the stables and then out of the castle. Alan had been standing at the gates, looking anxious, although the way he’d embraced Matthew as they’d passed had warmed her heart, too. At least one good thing had come out of their visit...

Their pace that afternoon had been punishing, but the thought of seeing Lacelby again had kept her going and at least it had meant they’d arrived before nightfall. The last thing she’d wanted was to arrive in the dark and miss her first sight of home in five years, although when she finally did see it, she had the distinct impression that her heart was trying to escape from her ribcage.

There it was—Lacelby—a modest and squat-looking grey keep surrounded by an unexceptional stone palisade, one lone watchtower and double-ditch fortifications. Home. Nothing special to most eyes, certainly not compared to Wintercott, and yet to her... She swallowed the lump in her throat. Nothing could diminish its beauty, nor suppress the flood of joy as she spurred Vixen into a gallop.

‘Constance!’

Matthew called out, but she didn’t stop or slow down, even when she heard a thunder of hooves alongside her. She dared not turn her head or divert her gaze either in case Lacelby vanished before her eyes. As much as she wanted to savour the moment of homecoming, part of her was afraid that if she didn’t hurry then something might still happen to stop her. She’d yearned for this moment for so long that it was hard to believe it was finally happening and she was home again.

A pair of torches were already blazing outside the gatehouse and she waved a hand to the guards, riding beneath the archway and on into the bailey, only then breathing a sigh of relief. Her memory hadn’t lied, after all. Everything was just as she remembered, not in every detail, perhaps—there were a couple of new thatched buildings beside the east wall and the stables appeared to have been completely rebuilt—but in all the ways that mattered.

She slid down from Vixen and turned around slowly on the spot, tipping her head back to savour the sense of familiarity and belonging. A faint whiff of salt hit her nostrils and she smiled. There was the sea, too, welcoming her home.

‘Here we are,’ Matthew murmured, curling his arms around her waist from behind and planting a kiss on the top of her head. ‘Happy?’

‘Even more than I expected to be.’ She twisted around in his arms. ‘I’m home.’

‘I’m sorry it took so long.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She reached up on tiptoe and pressed her lips softly against his. ‘We’re here now.’

‘Lady Constance?’

She turned around again as an elderly man, the bottom half of his face obscured by a shaggy white beard, came hobbling down the keep steps towards them.

‘Tomas?’

‘The very same.’ A pair of bright eyes twinkled at her beneath a pair of overgrown eyebrows and she rushed forward, forgetting all the manners her aunt had ever taught her as she flung her arms around him.

‘I didn’t recognise you at first!’

‘You mean because of this?’ He rubbed a hand over his chin and chuckled. ‘I started to grow it soon after you left and now it’s taken on a mind of its own. This is what happens after five years. My wife isn’t pleased.’

‘Well, I think it suits you.’ Constance laughed and gestured towards Matthew. ‘Matthew, this is Tomas, my father’s old steward. Tomas, this is my husband, Sir Matthew Wintour.’

‘I believe we met on the day of your marriage, Sir Matthew.’ Tomas looked faintly apprehensive. ‘It’s an honour to meet you again.’

‘The honour is all mine.’ Matthew favoured the steward with one of his rare smiles. ‘From what I’ve seen so far, Lacelby was left in capable hands.’

The old man’s expression shifted to one of relief. ‘Thank you, sir. We’ve done our best to keep everything as my lady would have wished it. While carrying out your father’s instructions, of course.’

‘Then you’ve done the right thing. However, now that Lady Constance is home, my father no longer has authority here. She’s our commander now.’

‘Your commander?’ She lifted her eyebrows as he made an elaborate bow.

‘Consider me your willing servant, lady. If you consider me worthy, of course.’

‘I do.’ She extended a hand, allowing him to kiss the tips of her fingers. ‘In that case, I want to look around.’