Return of the Rose Read online

  Lord Vanguard stood beneath the heavy-timbered frame, his breathing ragged, and his eyes blazing.

  Morgan grabbed the fur pelt and held it in front of her. “Are you insane?”

  He appeared to have little regard for her question as he stalked toward her. His intense scrutiny heated her skin as his gaze roamed carelessly, freely, as though the flames of the fire itself coursed over her. He towered over her, his expression hard and unreadable. Then she got a whiff of what smelled like a brewery. “You’re drunk!”

  He lowered himself on bended knee, placing one of his large hands on her shoulder to keep his balance. He swayed a little to the left, and then to the right. She followed his gaze to where his fingers touched her skin.

  She gently removed his hand, but he raised that same hand and used it to graze his knuckles over her cheek. For a man of his size, his touch was gentle. He leaned close to her ear as if to tell her a secret, and she leaned forward to listen, absurdly intoxicated by his nearness. The richness of his voice when he spoke was as warm and soothing as the fire that burned within the hearth.

  “You came back,” he stated more than asked, sending shivers up her spine.

  His lips trailed over her ear. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back slightly. The feathered touch of his fingertips upon her arm sent waves of pulsating vibrations through her body. She stifled a groan.

  ~~~~

  Although her body told him everything he needed to know, Derek had an overwhelming desire to see if her eyes exhibited the same invitation. He pulled back, just enough so that he could see her face. With the ball of his thumb he gently lifted her chin. Who was this woman who dared to bewitch him, this woman who succeeded in intruding upon his every thought since he first laid eyes on her?

  He brushed his lips across her cheek, her lips, and then moved back to nibble on her ear where he whispered, “What kind of magical hex has befallen me?”

  Although she had no answer for him, her face flushed.

  The woman drenched his senses with jasmine scented skin and tantalized him with her rosebud lips. He could not torment himself any longer. He kissed her, thoroughly this time.

  The useless pelt fell to the ground as he lifted her from the tub. He carried her across the room, pressing her down into the furs that lay before the hearth.

  His preferences had always been for the more experienced women, exactly what he assumed her to be: a seasoned wench who could appreciate one of life’s pleasures. Although her startled gestures were those of an innocent, he was sure it was a practiced trait of hers that made her even more desirable.

  ~~~~

  Pulling her lips from his, she said, “We can’t do this…” His mouth traveled down her neck. “Too many…unanswered quest—oh, that feels good. Don’t stop.”

  His lips returned to seize the flow of words, words she’d instantly regretted anyhow. Not only were bells ringing, a whole cacophony of trumpets and chimes exploded inside of her. Nothing in her life had ever felt more right than this. Of all the wonderful sights she’d seen in this century so far, things that would turn to faded memories when she returned to the future, she wanted only the memory of Derek Vanguard to linger forever.

  His hand curved around her breast, making her quiver as his inspiring mouth easily coerced her lips into parting for him. His tongue scorched her own, teasing, exploring the taste of her. The kiss was demanding and erotic. She reached both of her arms about the thick broadness of his neck and shoulders. When he lifted his head slightly she opened her eyes and saw him staring down at her. She hardly knew the man but she wanted him. Nothing made sense any longer. This place. This man. Regardless, she smiled at him and his reaction was instantaneous. His muscles constricted beneath her fingertips. His scorching look of desire dissolved, leaving in its wake a haunted expression, dark with pain, lined with anger as he loosened her arms from about his neck.

  Confused, she kept her eyes locked on his as he raised himself from the floor. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I refuse to be taken in so easily when we both know ‘tis another who floats about in that head of yours.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  An all-knowing smirk covered his lips as he tied the laces on his shirt.

  She sat up, covering herself as best she could with her arms. “Oh, I see. The old lover thing. I have no lover.”

  “Ha!” he spouted.

  Disappointed, she watched the surly bull leave without further explanation. He exited the room as quickly as he’d entered, leaving her naked and wet by the fire, feeling like an idiot for being so easily seduced. Rising from the furs, she shivered as she made her way to the bed. Numb, she slipped one of Amanda’s short-sleeved tunics over her head and crawled under the heaps of woolen blankets and fur pelts. Although the fire still burned, she felt cold as she gingerly touched her fingertips to her lips. She tried to tell herself that she was glad he’d left. It was, after all, the best thing for them both.

  Through a small window across the room, stars glittered against a jet-black sky. Her skin burned where Lord Vanguard’s unshaven jaw had rasped against her flesh. Overwhelmingly tired, she closed her eyes as she thought of her other life, especially her mother and how much she missed her.

  ~~~~

  The next morning, Morgan negotiated her way through the great hall where a half dozen maids were in the process of removing dirty hay and grass from the floor. Small children followed behind gleefully tossing fresh straw from a wooden cart as they went along.

  After running into Robert yesterday, she’d gone to the village. She hadn’t been able to find the boy whom she’d performed CPR on, and nobody she’d talked to had ever heard of the Earl of Kensington. Today, she decided, she’d explore the castle, get to know the people. Maybe they could shed some light on her predicament. And, no matter what, she wouldn’t give Lord Vanguard and his searing kisses another thought.

  Entering the smoke-filled kitchens, she waved to the cook as she passed by. The woman smiled and handed her a warm piece of bread before Morgan exited through the back door that led to the gardens. She ambled up a stone path, enjoying the sweet taste of the bread as she took in the fresh scent of flowers lining the way. She’d never seen such beautiful gardens in her life. Then she spotted Emmon, the man-boy who thought she’d stolen his horse. She was surprised to see him tending to the roses since he didn’t seem like the gardener type. “Hi,” she said, plunking down on the soft grass behind him. “Mind if I watch you work for a while?”

  He turned her way and gave her a frustrated scowl. “Do you have naught better to do?”

  “Nope. Not really.”

  “Surely a noble lady such as yourself would have many interesting hobbies to busy herself with. I, for one,” he said, putting a gloved hand to his chest, “have no wish to be the one to begrudge her ladyship of such important doings.”

  The hostility in his tone was obvious. “I hate to disappoint you,” she told him, “but I have nothing I’d rather do right now than watch you tend the roses.” She leaned forward, drawing in the sweet aroma of a newly blossomed rose before drawing back and finishing her bread.

  Angrily, he turned back to his bushes and began snipping away yellow spotted leaves with a vengeance.

  His irritability bordered on comical. Done with the bread, she scooted forward and began to remove dead leaves from beneath the bushes. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of the beginnings of a fuzzy goatee framing Emmon’s chin. He was tall and lanky and with his light hair streaked from the sun he looked like a California surfer boy. “Did you grow up here at Braddock?” she asked.

  “Why would you care to know?”

  “I just thought since we keep running into each other it would be nice to get to know you.”

  “Why is it you act as though you have done nothing wrong?” he asked. “As if drugging my water and stealing my horse is naught for me to get upset about. As though we were friends, no less.” He stuck
his chin out defiantly. “‘Twould seem to me you think all men to be fools. Lord Vanguard warned me of women such as the likes of you. And be you a lady or not, I should have listened to him from the start. My horse has never been the same since you stole it from me and rode off in the forest to find your lover, leaving me, Emmon McBray, to look the fool.” He stood tall, planted both hands firmly on his hips, and glared down at her.

  She stood, too, and brushed dirt from her gown. “As I’ve said before, I don’t have a lover. And I didn’t steal your horse. The truth is I wouldn’t jump on a horse’s back if you paid me.” She started to walk off, but then turned back and said, “If I were you, I would not listen to what Lord Vanguard has to say about women. He doesn’t know as much as he thinks he does. And by the way,” she added, gesturing toward the flowers, “your roses are beautiful.”

  Morgan walked off, more determined than ever not to let Emmon or Derek Vanguard ruin her mood. Odelia promised to teach her to embroider today. She would find the woman…a friendly face amidst so many strangers. The thought that she had a friend at all lifted her spirits as she walked on.

  Rounding the stone path, she saw a dozen children tugging at the skirts of one exhausted looking woman. “Would you like some help?” Morgan asked.

  “‘Twould be a blessing from God,” the maid quickly answered, “but I fear his lordship would be upset with me were I to shed my duties upon his betrothed.”

  Morgan smiled. “We’ll just keep this between me and you.”

  The woman grinned, her mottled complexion glowing as she made her way to a bench and took a seat. Excited to have someone new to play with, the children instantly battled for Morgan’s attention. She laughed as they grabbed her skirts and ran in circles around her.

  An hour later, Morgan was still laughing when a mound of dirt hit her square in the chest. She asked the boy nearest her to loan her his slingshot, which he gladly handed over. She loaded her borrowed slingshot and fired back.

  The other boy ran, dodging for cover behind a thick hedge. After a moment, his little head popped up and with a conspiratorial grin on his face he called truce and at the same time gestured for her to come his way. Then he pointed toward Emmon, and she smiled too. She and the boy crawled on all fours, sneaking up behind their unwitting enemy.

  Without making a sound, they attacked, bombarding Emmon’s back and side with soft clumps of dirt. Emmon did his best to ignore them, but finally gave in when the smaller boy’s ammunition hit him square in the back of his big head.

  Emmon quickly retaliated by throwing wilted rose petals and debris their way. It wasn’t long before Emmon was showering them with mud balls and had both Morgan and the boy begging for leniency.

  ~~~~

  Derek watched Lady Amanda through the high window. He was not sure exactly how long he had been watching her entertain the children, but judging by the stiffness of his neck ‘twas longer than he’d intended. He chuckled as she determinedly chased a small girl, tickling the child until the poor girl cried with high-pitched laughter.

  His eyes widened as Amanda leaned over onto the grass and stood on her head. Her skirts dropped, revealing tight breeches underneath. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone else was watching. The picture brought to mind all of her ludicrous antics: her ridiculous use of words, how she rambled on when she was nervous, the scrunching of her nose when she was frustrated. But it was her smile, her soft skin and the way her silky flesh felt beneath his fingertips that continued to haunt him. Every part of him ached to hold her close and kiss her with the same urgency he felt every time he looked her way. He cursed himself for stopping what he had begun last night. He’d grown used to women whose every movement was rehearsed, in the bedroom as well as out of it. And yet Amanda was different. Every time he expected her to do one thing, she did the opposite. ‘Twas imagining her pining for her lover, though, that had caused him to leave so abruptly last night, for he was certain ‘twas another man’s image filling her every thought. Only days ago she had risked her very life to run off to be with another man, humiliating him before his people. And now suddenly she waltzed about his castle as if she belonged here. She made no sense. Why was she still here? He’d instructed the guards to allow her through the gates and yet she’d returned to his castle on her own free will. What was the woman up to?

  He was losing control of his emotions, which he vowed had to stop. How many times must I tell you, boy, that women cannot be trusted? Deceit is behind everything they do…everything! His father’s words resounded in his mind, making his head ache all the more.

  Derek gazed upon his betrothed once more. She presented herself as an innocent, and she played the role well. No wonder Hugo and Emmon had been so easily deceived. How could he expect them to do what he could not? She was a woman, for God’s sake, and she had a plan…a plan that would reveal itself soon enough. He was certain of it.

  “There you are,” a baritone voice came from behind.

  Derek jerked about. “God’s teeth, man! What are you doing sneaking up on me?”

  Hugo chuckled. “I humbly apologize, my lord, but as you might recall, ‘tis the only passage leading abovestairs. I am but on my way to bring a bit of cheer to my ailing wife. Of course, that is, if it befits you to let me pass.”

  Derek’s annoyance turned to concern for Matti. “What is it that ails that troublesome wife of yours?”

  “She has but a stuffy nose and scratchy throat. Naught that a little Flemish broth cannot cure,” he said, nodding toward the steaming cup he carried. “I also thought to cheer her with a bit of spring.” He held up a pewter vase filled with flowers, and then stepped forward to peer out over Derek’s shoulder. “Hmm, I see ‘tis not just the beauty of the day that has you entranced.”

  A look of disdain crossed Derek’s face. “How long before you return to the training of your men?”

  Hugo smiled knowingly. “Do I sense an eagerness to be rid of me, my lord?” He placed the flowers to his heart in mock pain. “Aye, but you have chafed me to the quick.” Hugo laughed as he gestured with his chin to Lady Amanda. “‘Twould seem King Henry has done well with his choosing of a bride for you, my lord. And I surmise, by the way you ogle her like a besotted schoolboy that you agree. Verily if I did not know you better I would deduct your constant meditations of late to have some sort of veiled meaning…mayhap hinting at feelings of love.”

  Derek looked Hugo square in the eye. “You have been in the sun overly much, my good man. I am afraid I have been too busy for the likes of such time-consuming sentiments that you speak of. If you must know, ‘tis not my heart that yearns for the wench but something else altogether.” He forced a grin and slapped Hugo hard on the back, causing the broth to slosh about.

  Derek shook his head as he strolled down the hall toward his bedchamber. “Love!” he said loud, enough for Hugo to hear. “A good-for-nothing endearment if ever there was one.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Morgan entered the keep just as the trumpeter blew his horn, announcing the midday meal. Meals at Braddock were usually light, consisting of bread, fruit, and wine. If Lord Vanguard’s men were home, the meal became an elaborate display of food: stew, salt-cured ham, fatty bacon, fish, and an assortment of broths, egg tarts, fruits, and pastries.

  This afternoon was of the latter variety. Today the knights, archers, and squires had yet to begin their training and so the castle was brimming with people as she moved through the castle, making her way to her bedroom so she could quickly change her clothes.

  When she reappeared fifteen minutes later, it seemed that even the number of servants had doubled. Before today she’d mostly eaten in her room or in the kitchen with the cooks, but today she decided to sit with everybody else. The people at Braddock seemed to be getting used to her being around, since they didn’t stare and point every time she walked into a room.

  Odelia spotted her at once and gestured for her to take a seat on the upper dais where a long narrow table had been cov
ered with clean linen.

  As Odelia headed toward the kitchen, Morgan glanced around the room, glad to know Lord Vanguard wouldn’t be joining them for lunch. Odelia had told her that he took most of his meals in his study, which was one of the reasons why there were rumors that he was disfigured. When visitors came to Braddock he seldom made an appearance and his guests went away assuming the worst.

  Morgan’s eyes widened as a large strapping knight smiled broadly at her before taking a seat beside her. The room quickly filled with a stream of loud knights and squires. Within minutes at least three brawny knights surrounded her. The man to her right had a long mane of reddish-brown hair. His eyes were like those of a lion, his gaze intense as she made eye contact and said good morning. The warrior seated directly in front of her wore a leather tunic that was a size too small, so snug against his swell of hard muscles that she wondered why he bothered with a shirt at all. Like the lion man, his hair, too, hung loosely, so that the ends brushed over the top of his massive shoulders. Next to him, sat a Fabio look-alike. She couldn’t dismiss the resemblance, and she had to resist the urge to stare.

  As mountains of food were served, she tried not to feel insulted when the food instantly took priority over any small-talk she offered these men. She quietly filled her plate, opting for a piece of salt-cured ham and a chunk of dark rye bread.

  Hugo entered the room next, and she happily scooted over to make room for him.

  “My lady,” he said enthusiastically as he took the offered seat. “You are a vision to behold. Verily your beauty inveigles me to close my eyes and sing praise.”

  Embarrassed, Morgan thanked him, glad she’d had time to change after playing with the kids. She wore a cream-colored gown. The sleeves were decorated with elaborate gold-threaded embroidery and the fabric felt silky against her skin. She felt unusually feminine sitting before this grizzly bear of a man, not to mention the assemblage of Chippendales surrounding her. “Will Matti be joining us?” Morgan asked Hugo.