The Knight(30)
Sir David Lindsay was a good man, and in time perhaps she could grow to love him. Not the passionate, all-encompassing girlish love she’d had for James, but the solid, mature love of a woman. But it wouldn’t be fair to encourage him—even if she didn’t suspect his feelings for her were more a result of that strong streak of rescuer he had running through his blood. “There are things you don’t know. Things that would make it impossible for there to be anything more than friendship between us.”
His expression hardened, and she saw vestiges of the formidable warrior he was reputed to be. Like James, Sir David was a close companion of the king and a member of his personal retinue. “If you mean Douglas, he doesn’t scare me.”
He should, she almost said. Sir David was tall, strong, and surely skilled, but few men could best James Douglas in size, sheer physical strength, and fierceness.
She shook her head. “It’s not James.” At least not entirely. She chewed on her thumb absently, heat crawling up her cheeks. How could she explain without telling him about the baby? She wasn’t chaste. She’d carried another man’s child. Hardly the proper wife for a young lord. Though they were the same age at two and twenty, she felt far older by experience.
He must have guessed at the reason for her hesitation. He tipped her chin with the back of his finger to look into his eyes. “I am not a priest, Joanna. I will not require a confession of sins before I ask a woman to be my wife. I will listen, if you feel you must tell me, but remember that I was the first person to reach you when you fell, and it was me who carried you up the hill to the castle. I may not be a healer, but I do understand why a woman might be bleeding after a fall like that. I also saw the way you cried and cradled your stomach when you woke. When I learned of your connection—your former connection—to Douglas, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what had happened.”
Joanna was stunned. “And you still…?” She couldn’t get the words out. The fact that this man so easily offered what James had refused—even after what she’d just said—made her want to burst into tears.
He nodded. “Aye, I still. I won’t lie to you and say that I don’t wish it had happened differently. But I gave it some thought, and your former relationship with Douglas isn’t what worries me. What worries me is whether that relationship really is in the past.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he stopped her. “I’m not asking for assurances. Not now, at least. But I thought you should know how I felt.”
Joanna didn’t understand. “Why me?” she blurted. Then embarrassed, she tried to explain, “I mean, I’m sure you have your pick of the ladies at court.”
He smiled again. “Because you are sweet, kind, and beautiful, and none of the ladies at court have ever made me this happy. You are special, Joanna, and I thank God every day that Douglas was too much of a fool to realize what a treasure he had.”
No one… only the marshal’s daughter. The cruel words still had the power to sting, but Sir David had helped lessen the hurt. Not all men saw her worth as simply a rung on the ladder of social positioning.
For a moment she thought he might kiss her. She would have let him, curious to see whether he could rouse the same passion in her as James. But he must have remembered his vow not to press her.
Dropping his hand from her face, he stepped back. “I should return to the castle. Some of the guests will be arriving soon, and I should be there to greet them. I only stopped by to make sure you saved me the first dance.” He smiled. “And the last dance and every one in between.”
Despite her lighter spirits today, Joanna didn’t feel much like feasting. But after all Sir David had done for her, she could not refuse to attend the May Day celebration that seemed to have the entire village in a state of barely contained excitement. With the war, there had been little time or opportunity for feasting, and everyone knew with King Edward threatening to invade again in the summer, it might be some time before there was another.
“I should like that very much,” she answered honestly. “Although I think your duties as host will require the partnering of more than just one woman.”
He made a face and sighed. “I suppose you are right. But the first will be yours and I shan’t enjoy the rest.”
She laughed and her smile lingered long after he’d gone.
Though she supposed she should go inside and start helping the children—and herself—get ready, Joanna strolled to the edge of the burn that wound along the edge of the cottage. The hill sloped along the bank, and she was careful as she sat on the damp grass not to slip. It was a beautiful day, and like the laughter that had come before, the warmth of the sun on her face seemed to harken an awakening. A return from the dark, grief-stricken days of the past few months.