A Knight in Shining Armor Read online

  The warm water made the boy perk up, and Dougless guessed that the bindings had been so tight the boy had been in a bit of a stupor. She said as much to Nicholas.

  “It keeps them quiet. Loosen the swaddlings and they weep most loudly.”

  “Let’s wrap you in bindings like that, hang you on a peg, and see if you don’t cry bloody murder.”

  “A child has no sense.” Obviously, he was puzzled by her actions and her thoughts.

  “He has the brain now that he’ll go to Yale with.”

  “Yale?”

  “Never mind. Have safety pins been invented yet?”

  Dougless had to improvise diapers. Nicholas protested when she used one diamond and one emerald brooch to fasten the corners of the boy’s linen diaper. She wished she had some zinc ointment for his rash.

  When at last the child was clean, dry, and powdered (thanks to another hotel giveaway sample from her tote bag), she handed the boy to his father. Nicholas looked horrified and bewildered at the same time, but he took the boy, and after a moment he even smiled at him. The child smiled back.

  “What’s his name?” Dougless asked.

  “James.”

  She took the boy from Nicholas. He was already a very good looking child, with his father’s dark hair and blue eyes, and he had a tiny cleft in his chin. “Let’s see if you can walk.” She put the boy on the floor, and after a few stumbles, he walked to Dougless’s outstretched arms.

  Nicholas stayed with her, watching as she spent an hour playing with the boy. And when Dougless put him down for the night, she found out more about Elizabethan child care. James’s crib had a hole in the middle, and the child was strapped in at night, his bottom over the hole, and once again a bucket was put under him.

  Nicholas did little more than roll his eyes when she demanded that the child be given a proper mattress. The nurse complained, and Dougless could see her point. If the child had no rubber pants, by morning the mattress would be filthy, and how does one clean goose feathers? She solved the problem by putting a piece of waxed cloth, such as rain gear was made out of, over the mattress. The nurse did as Dougless bid, but she was grumbling when Dougless and Nicholas left.

  Nicholas was chuckling as they left the room. “Come and have supper with me,” he said. “We will celebrate the cleansing of my son.” Taking Dougless’s hand, he tucked it under his arm.

  THIRTY

  Nicholas leaned back on the bench and watched Dougless playing with his son. The sun was bright, the air heavy with the scent of roses, and as far as Nicholas could tell, all was perfect in the world. It had been three days since she’d taken the boy off the peg and out of swaddling, and during those three days the child had spent a great deal of time with them. But then so had many people spent time with them. Nicholas was amazed to discover how much Dougless had involved herself in in the short time she’d been with the Stafford family. Early mornings she “rehearsed,” as she called it, with the fat heiress, and yesterday she and the heiress had put on a ridiculous play while wearing even more ridiculous peasant clothes. They had sung a song about “Travelin’ along, singin’ a song . . . ,” then told jokes that bordered on blasphemy.

  Throughout the play, Nicholas had refused to laugh, because he knew she had done this work for Kit. She had even told Nicholas so. The rest of his family had laughed uproariously at the play, but Nicholas refused to do so.

  Later, when he got her alone, she had laughed at him and accused him of being jealous. Jealous? Nicholas Stafford jealous? He could have any woman he wanted, so why should he be jealous? She had smiled so knowingly that, to stop her, he had grabbed her to him and kissed her until she couldn’t remember her own name, much less think of another man.

  Now, leaning back against the garden wall and watching her toss a ball to his son, he felt at peace. Was this love? he wondered. Was this the love that the troubadours sang of? How could he be in love with a woman he hadn’t taken to bed? Once he’d thought he was in love with a half-gypsy girl who had done splendid things to his body. But with this Dougless all they did was talk—and laugh.

  She had nagged him so much about the sketches she’d found while snooping in his belongings that he had started making new drawings. Kit had told Nicholas that he could begin building Thornwyck Castle in the spring.

  During their days spent together, he and Dougless talked and sang together, rode, and walked. And he found himself telling her things about himself that he had never told another soul.

  Two days ago a portrait painter had come to the Stafford household and Nicholas had commissioned him to paint a miniature oil of Dougless. It should be finished soon.

  Looking at her now, he was beginning to wonder if he could live without her. But, regularly, she mentioned leaving. She talked about what he must do when she was gone. She talked of cleanliness until he could bear no more, but she kept saying cleanliness was of utmost importance.

  When she was gone. He couldn’t bear to think of not being with her. Many times during the day he’d found himself thinking, I must tell Dougless that. She said that in her time men and women were partners and they shared thoughts and ideas. He knew his mother’s last husband had often asked Lady Margaret’s opinion, but he couldn’t remember his stepfather saying, “How was your day?” as Dougless asked.

  And there was the child. The child was a bother, of course, but there were times when he enjoyed the boy’s smiles. The boy looked up at Nicholas as though his father were a god. Yesterday Nicholas had taken the boy into the saddle before him, and the child’s squeals of laughter had made Nicholas smile.

  Suddenly Dougless laughed at something the boy did and brought Nicholas back to the present. The sunlight was shining on her hair, but then the sunlight seemed to come out only when she was near. He wanted to touch her, hold her, make love to her, but the threat of her disappearance kept him from pulling her into his bed. Oh, he kissed her when he could and touched every part of her body he could reach. They snuggled together in the evenings, alone in some deserted nook, and watched the firelight or the stars out an open window. He touched her and held her, but they went no further. The possibility of her leaving was too great for him to risk.

  A boy came to tell Nicholas that Lady Margaret wanted to see him, so, reluctantly, he left the garden and went into the house.

  His mother awaited him in her private closet off her bedchamber.

  “Have you told her?” Lady Margaret asked, her face stern.

  Nicholas didn’t have to be told what she meant. “Nay, I have not.”

  “Nicholas, this has gone too far. I have been lenient with the woman because she saved Kit’s life, but your behavior . . .” She trailed off because there was no need to say more.

  Nicholas went to the window, opened it, and looked down into the garden. He could just see Dougless below. “I would spend my life with the Montgomery woman,” he said softly.

  Lady Margaret slammed the window shut and glared at her son. She had eyes that could pierce a man. “You cannot. The dowry for Lettice Culpin has been accepted and part of it spent to buy sheep. The woman brings land with her and a good name. Your children will be related to the throne. You cannot throw that away for this woman who is nothing.”

  “She is all to me.”

  Lady Margaret glared at him. “She is nothing. Two days ago the rider returned from Lanconia. There is no Montgomery king. This Dougless Montgomery is no more than a fast-tongued—”

  “Say no more,” Nicholas said, cutting her off. “I have never believed her to be of royal blood, but she has come to mean more to me than bloodlines and property.”

  Lady Margaret groaned. “Do you think you are the first to love? When I was a girl, I loved my cousin, so I refused to marry your father. My mother beat me until I was willing.” She narrowed her eyes at Nicholas. “And she was right. Your father gave me two sons who lived to manhood, while my cousin gambled his fortune away.”

  “Dougless is not likely to gamble my fortune aw