Return of the Rose (28 page)

He closed his eyes.

Derek Vanguard was the reason she was here in this century. How odd that he could call her through time. How odd that she had immediately felt as if she belonged in this strange unfamiliar time. Bending forward, she kissed his forehead, and then the bridge of his sturdy nose. She traced a downward path with her mouth until she buried her head within his neck again and savored the moment.

Derek tilted his chin and listened to her sniffles. “Why do you cry?”

“Happiness, lack of sleep, mostly relief that you’re alive,” she said. She lifted her head so she could peer into his eyes. “It’s taken me so long to find you.” She wiped her eyes. “And now that I have…I never want to leave you.”

He placed his good arm halfway about her and said reassuringly, “Then you have naught to cry about, do you?”

CHAPTER 15

“You are doing extremely well, my dear. Don’t bend forward overly much. You must keep a stiff upper back…aye, much better.”

Morgan did as King Henry said, straightening her spine until she thought her backbone would snap from the strain. King Henry was teaching her to ride a horse of all things and she didn’t like it one bit. This was her third day of riding instructions and the insides of her thighs felt like bruised peaches.

But how do you deny the King of England? More than anything she wanted to leave Windsor with her head still firmly attached to her shoulders. If Henry VI was anything like Henry VIII, she was doomed.

After Derek regained consciousness, the king had insisted they stay until he was fully recovered. His Majesty had been just as persistent in his request that she join him and his retinue in a ride about the countryside. Morgan had courteously declined and that seemed well and fine until Henry learned of her fear of horses. After that, His Majesty decided it was his duty to take her under his wing, firmly instructing, thoroughly explaining, and artfully drilling her on the joys of riding horseback.

Morgan disagreed. There wasn’t an ounce of euphoria to be grasped as the king had promised, especially when he clicked his tongue and the beast reared up on his hind legs.

But how do you argue with a king?

So here she sat for the third day in a row, her spine as stiff as a steel rod while she sat upon a fine white palfrey, feeling no cheer, only cowardly angst instead.

The king’s attentiveness seemed a bit much at first. After a few days though, she grew accustomed to the monarch’s mothering. He was a kind and gentle man, much too nice to be king, she thought. She’d tried to hint about nice guys finishing last, but he’d launched into a squeal of merriment as if she’d told a great one-liner.

~~~~

“Loosen up on the reins,” Derek overheard the king say as he came toward them, his gait stiff and slow and his arm in a sling. He stood beside King Henry and watched as his wife did exactly as the king bid her.

“Good to see that you are well,” King Henry said merrily to Derek as he watched his student with a stern eye. “How is it that she does not know how to ride? I have never heard of such a thing.”

“So you see it, too?” Derek asked.

“See what?” the king asked, thoroughly baffled by the question.

“Emmon McBray,” Derek said, pausing to watch with strained muscles as his wife made an unsteady circle around the field. Derek let out a relieved breath when the horse slowed its gait with Amanda still atop its back. “Emmon McBray, a young knight who escorted Lady Amanda back from Silverwood, swore she could ride a horse as well as any man. But after seeing her ride my horse I had to question him on it.”

The king laughed heartily. “Tell this Emmon McBray he is surely blind for before I took the matter into my own hands, the woman would not touch a horse unless the devil himself were after her.”

Derek frowned at that.

The king’s countenance grew serious. “I have been meaning to speak to you of my recently made plans.”

Derek nodded, letting His Majesty know that he was listening.

“I am to marry.”

Derek hid his surprise in a cough. He glanced at his wife to see if she was in on the jest. “Not Margaret of Anjou, I suppose?” Derek asked with a bit of humor.

The king paled and his brows slanted with concern. “How did you become enlightened of such news?”

Derek scratched at the back of his neck. “I overheard some people talking. Before I had a chance to see who it was, music filled the hall and the dancing had begun. Only speculation I am certain.” He nearly growled as he looked again toward his wife, wishing he had said naught, never imagining that she spoke the truth about whom King Henry would marry.

The king eyed him closely for a minute. “Good, then I will not fret over it. The news will be made public soon enough. Mayhap after you are wed, we can go over the details and I could receive your advice on the matter.”

Derek nodded. His gaze fell upon Amanda with a peculiar fascination.
How had she known
?

His wife noticed him watching her, and she flashed a bright smile, straining to remain upright as she veered the horse to the right. Before he could yell out for her to slacken the reins it was too late. She was on the ground, kissing the dirt.

The king’s small goosesteps were no faster than Derek’s sore measured gait as they went to her.

She pushed her face from the ground, felt whiskers on her cheek and screamed when she saw it was the horse who breathed down her neck.

The king nearly jumped out of his fur-lined slippers. The beast whinnied and trotted off. Derek plunked a hand on his hip as the king looked at her with disappointment.

“What?” she asked.

The moment she came to her feet, Derek took her by the elbow and excused them both before leading her a few feet away. Upon seeing Hugo he said, “Keep the king in good company until I return.”

Hugo nodded and continued toward the king.

“It’s good to see you up,” she said sweetly to Derek.

“Why must you unceasingly make an oafish fool of yourself?” He raised her skirts a few inches and looked to her toes. “Could it be that you have two left feet or is it your cumbersome attire that makes you appear a bit graceless?”

“I realize you’re on your way to a full recovery, but this is ridiculous,” she told him. “How dare you call me oafish when you, a hobbling, inconsiderate, mollycoddled overlord just stood there, smirking at me while my face was buried in the dirt. I rode that horse for you and the king! For three days I listened to the big honcho’s orders to sit straight, keep the knees in tight…go to the right, go to the left, check the bit, tighten the reins, and adjust the blinders until I thought I’d go mad!” She plunked hands to hips. “And then I see you, looking pale, but handsome all the same, and I do my best to show you what I’ve learned. Never mind that I’m sitting on one of the largest beasts known to mankind. Never mind that I’m scared out of my wits. The point is that I trot, lope, and canter my heart out to please you in front of the king. And this is what I get in return?”

A raspy chuckle erupted as he shook his head. “You are right. I have been nonfunctioning for too long and have turned into a roguish knave to treat you so.”

Morgan looked back at him skeptically, unsure as to his sincerity.

“Quickly,” he blurted, gently lifting her chin higher so that he could well see her emerald eyes. “Tell me again, while your ire is well heightened, that you love me. ‘Twould be the validation my insecure sensibilities require to settle this once and for all.”

Morgan rolled her eyes and dropped her arms to her sides. “I love you. There,” she said with lingering stubbornness in her tone. “Now apologize for insulting me so that my sensibilities, too, will be mended.”

It took him a while, but he did finally bend low and take her hand in his. “I, Derek Vanguard, wish to express my extreme regret for offending one so graceful and nimble as yourself.”

She playfully tapped him on the head. “I accept your apology, Sir Knight, but I think you should know that you were a roguish knave before you were ever wounded in the jousting fields. And, the fact that you are a roguish knave has not been altered by your apology.”

“Your things are packed, my lord,” Hugo said as he came toward them.

“We’re leaving?” Morgan asked excitedly.

“Aye. Odelia and Matti have collected your belongings and even now they await within the carriage,” Hugo answered. “May I add that you look lovely, my lady.”

“Must every man upon this earth verily foam at the mouth at the sight of her?” Derek asked. “It appears all men have been held in captivity and deprived the sight of a wench for too long.”

Morgan blushed.

“Nay, you are wrong, my most noble of champions,” King Henry said as he came up from behind. “The death wound you received fair voided your memory, for it is not just any fair maiden that stands before us but one worthy of her very own songs and ballads.”

Morgan smiled, leaving Derek to shrug in defeat as he followed her. Although he wasn’t ready to confess his love for her, he wished only to trust her fully. Perhaps then he would gain the courage to tell her what she meant to him. Some day he wished to tell her that whatever he and Leonie had between them was over the moment he laid eyes on her. There was no other and never would be. Verily it made his flesh and body quake to think what Amanda Forrester had done to him. He could not eat, drink, or sleep without visions of her emerald eyes hounding him, as if her very soul seeped slowly through his veins. Damn it, he thought. She had corrupted every fool she had met with her charm. And now he, too, joined the ranks of foolish sops waiting in line for a mere glimpse, mayhap a touch of her soft hand, to make his breathing calm again. He was not angry with her, only with himself for losing all control when it came to his wife.

Derek stopped her on the path and when she looked up at him and smiled, he leaned low and kissed her, gently, ever so softly, knowing that he had lost the war, totally and completely, and now stood before her defeated, a mere shell of the man he once was.

~~~~

By the time the carriage neared Braddock, the sun had set and a full round moon had taken its place, making a white haze of light above the treetops.

Morgan gazed at their surroundings. The night seemed embalmed in twilight and enshrouded in mystery. Between the intermittent creaking of the carriage wheels she could hear the eerie howls of wolves and the croaking mating sounds of numerous frogs.

Derek held her within the crook of his good arm, and she felt a serene sense of peace like never before. His hair appeared as black as the midnight sky around them, and having grown overly long, his thick locks swept down his neck and over his collar.

When he glanced down at her, she noticed that his eyes, too, appeared extraordinarily black tonight. Their fingers entwined and the feel of his strong hand wrapped around hers made her feel content and whole.

“The king is well fond of you,” Derek said, breaking the silence.

She smiled. “He had more than a few kind words to say about you, too.”

Derek expressed mild curiosity, but didn’t ask her to elaborate. “I’ll tell you what King Henry said if you would like to know.”

“Something tells me you will tell me either way.”

She laughed. “You think you know me so well, don’t you?”

He smiled, staring ahead into the night as she took a good look at his well-chiseled profile.

“The king told me,” she began, “how he’d been assured from the first day you lay unconscious that you would live to see another day. He believes you are immortal. You don’t believe that, do you?”

Derek looked at her with exaggerated astonishment. “You dare confess to me that you are from another world, and yet, show skepticism to hear that perhaps I will enjoy eternal life?”

He had a point, she realized.

“Nay, ‘tis not true what King Henry says,” Derek finally let out. “I believe I am wholly mortal as are all men.”

Again he gazed ahead. Then he pointed to the turrets of Braddock edging above the hills, understandable joy crossing his face to be so close to home.

“Did you know that King Henry takes full credit for raising you into manhood?” she asked next.

Derek shook his head, smiling thoughtfully.

“Well, he does. And he’s quite proud of the fact that he knighted you himself. Although you’ve proved your worthiness many times over,” she said with a sigh, “he is upset that you never stop to smell the roses.”

“He said that?” Derek asked with a worried chuckle.

“Well, not the part about stopping to smell the roses. Those were my words.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “But he did say that you seldom take respite as reward for your constant toil. Pretty much the same thing.”

“Hmmm, verily, I will have the perfect reason now to do just that.”

“To take a respite?”

“Aye, and to smell the roses.” He kissed her forehead as the carriage swept through the main gates of Braddock. She could hardly contain her excitement at being back at the castle. She missed her friends and the children. For the first time since she’d come to this new world, she began to think about the possibility that she might never return to her own time. The thought did not bother her. She belonged here…with Derek. Of that she had no doubt.

A deafening rumble suddenly obliterated the tranquility, cutting through the air like a radio turned full blast.

Jerking her head around to look back to the gates, Morgan realized there were no guards there. Her heart jumped to her throat.

Derek’s jaw hardened.

“What is it?” Her voice cracked with tension. She clutched onto his leg just before he pushed her to the floor. Without a word and barely any movement on his part, he unhinged a trap door on the floor of the carriage and shoved her through it. She let out a scream in surprised confusion as she fell to the ground, rolling in a twisted heap with her arms crossed tightly over her face as the wheels rolled past both sides of her.

The rattle of the carriage and the shouts of men in the distance muffled her shrieks. For a moment, she remained perfectly still as the carriage continued on without her. She didn’t need to come from this century to know that a battle was taking place. The smell of burnt tar raided her nostrils. Cinders and sparks carried by a breeze were deposited all around her, and the air became thick with soot and clouds of smoke. Jumping to her feet, she remained hunched over as she ran a few feet in the direction of Braddock and then hid behind a tall shrub.