The Knight Read online

  “You know better than to listen to the English, Thommy. James is not the black devil they would make him out to be.” But even as she defended him, Joanna acknowledged a growing unease about James’s reputation. The fearsome man who’d struck terror in the heart of the English was not the James she knew. It was hard to mesh the gallant knight she loved with the ruthless “Black Douglas” who cut a swathe of destruction across the Marches.

  And she knew better than anyone that not all the stories were false. The infamous “Douglas Larder” had happened three Easters past in the very castle she could see across the river. Her own grandfather had died at James’s side when James and his men had surprised the English garrison while they attended services on Palm Sunday. After looting the castle stores, they’d beheaded the prisoners and tossed their bodies on a pile of the remaining stores before setting the whole lot on fire.

  Fight fear with fear, James had told her. And it had worked. The danger in holding Douglas Castle had earned it the moniker “Castle Dangerous” from the English. But she didn’t like to think of the man who’d held her heart for as long as she could remember as being so… merciless.

  Stop! she told herself. James loves you.

  She trusted him. But unconsciously, her hand covered her stomach.

  Thom gave her a sad smile, obviously sensing the direction of her thoughts. “He might love you, but he’ll marry to increase the wealth and prestige of Douglas.”

  “You’re wrong.” But her soft voice lacked the conviction it had held before.

  Suddenly, Thom’s expression changed. His gaze flickered to the hand that was spread out over her belly, first in disbelief, and then in horrified anger. “Oh, God, Jo, what have you done?”

  She blushed. From what she’d heard from some of the village lasses, Thommy knew exactly what she’d done.

  “Tell me you aren’t with child?” He breathed tightly.

  She couldn’t do that. She lowered her eyes, not daring to meet his gaze. It wasn’t condemnation she feared but something far worse: pity.

  “The bloody bastard, I’ll kill him!”

  Joanna latched on to his arm, preventing him from moving away. James would not be the one killed—they both knew that. Despite their similarity in size and physical strength—Thom had the heavy muscles of a smith—he had never been trained to fight. James was “the Black Douglas,” a battle-hardened warrior who’d held a sword in his hand since he was a lad. It would be no contest.

  “No, Thom. I neither need nor want your outrage. It isn’t warranted. I knew the risk I took. I wanted…” She bit her lip, embarrassed. “I wanted to lie with him. He did not force me.”

  But her words did little to dampen his anger. “He took advantage of your love for him as he’s always done, damn it. I should have put a stop to it the day I caught him kissing you—doing more than kissing you—up here, but I never thought he would dishonor you like this.”

  “He didn’t dishonor me.”

  “Make no mistake, Jo. No matter what Douglas might have let you believe, he might make you his leman, but he won’t make you his wife. Babe or nay.” The distraught rage on his face cut her to the quick. Her chest squeezed. “Damn him to hell. Your innocence belonged to your husband. You don’t have to be a bloody knight to know that.”

  Joanna had never seen him so angry. And in spite of her faith in James, it was hard not to be affected by Thommy’s reaction. Her heart started to flutter with panic, and tears burned her eyes. “Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to ruin this for me? I know you’re upset about Beth, but this is different. James and I have been in love for years. You know that. He intends to marry me; I know he does. Can’t you be happy for me?”

  He sighed, raking his dark hair back with his fingers. Some of his anger seemed to dissipate. “I’m sorry, Jo. I don’t want to upset you. But I care about you, and don’t want to see you hurt. Your heart is too big. You are worth far more than land and gold. It is Douglas who doesn’t deserve you.”

  She bowed her head and said quietly with all the conviction in her heart, “You’re wrong about him, Thommy.”

  “I hope so. For your sake, I hope so. If I had a woman who had half as much faith in me as you, I would never let her go. But promise me something.” He paused until she looked up. “If he doesn’t live up to that faith, you’ll send for me. If he won’t give your child a name, I will.”

  She stared at him in shock. “But you don’t love me.”

  He laughed. “Perhaps not in the way you mean, but we’re friends, which is more than most husbands and wives can say.”

  The generosity of his offer moved her, but it was an offer she could never accept. For his sake as well as her own. “What of Beth?” she asked softly.

  His mouth hardened. “I could become the greatest knight in Christendom, and it would not change my birth or how she looks upon me. I do not delude myself. Lady Elizabeth Douglas will never be for me. She might as well be the bloody Queen.”

  The way he said it…

  Was Joanna deluding herself?

  No. James wouldn’t do that to her. She trusted him with every fiber of her being—body and soul.

  It was well after midday by the time James clambered up the hill. There was a lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Since the last time he’d been with Jo, in fact.

  God, it had been too long.

  As he neared the crest of the hill, he saw her. Waiting for him beneath the old Sessile Oak tree, as she always did. She turned, and the broad smile that spread across her face made his breath catch hard in his chest like the pounding of a fist.

  The memories that held him over the long months of their separation never did her justice. It was impossible to remember just how lovely she was in the flesh. He could never quite get the exact shade of golden blond of her hair, the vivid peacock-blue of her eyes, the flawlessness of her freshly-churned-cream skin, the brilliance of her smile, or the curvy—very curvy—lushness of her figure.

  Hers was not the refined beauty of the noblewomen at court, but a wholesome goodness drawn from the verdant beauty of the countryside around them. His Viking dairymaid, he thought of her. His lusty Viking dairymaid, he amended. He’d known she would be responsive, but never could he have imagined such innate sensuality.

  Anticipation coursed through his blood, the memories of what had happened last time hastening his steps. He hadn’t meant to let it go so far, but it had seemed inevitable from the first kiss they’d shared in the barn so long ago. Even at fifteen, he’d known she belonged to him.

  And she knew it, too. She was already flying into his arms. “James!”

  Just the sound of her husky voice was like ambrosia to his war-trodden soul. His arms slid around her, and he savored the simple pleasure of her soft, welcoming body melting into his.

  He’d missed her, he realized. More than he’d ever dreamed possible. When had she become so important to him? So vital? Like the air he breathed and the food he ate, Joanna nourished his soul.

  “You came,” she said, looking up at him with such an expression of joy on her face, it felt like his lungs had turned to steel.

  Because her mouth was only inches from his, because he could practically taste its sweetness, and simply because it had been too damned long, he kissed her.

  His mouth covered hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise, and then the low moan of pleasure that went straight to his bollocks with a hard tug.

  So soft. So warm. So much sweeter than he’d remembered. Heat coursed through his blood and tired limbs.

  He groaned, feeling her soften. Her mouth opened under his, and he had to taste her more deeply. His tongue delved into her mouth, stroking and consuming in long, slow pulls.

  Oh God, it was incredible. Over and over, he drew her in.

  The first tentative flicker of her response nearly brought him to his knees. Passion was new for her, but instinct and enthusiasm more than made up for lack of experience. Her body was m