Dragon's Daughter. Catherine Archer. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Catherine Archer
Издательство: HarperCollins
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them?”

      This unexpected question brought overwhelming feelings of shame and loneliness. Suddenly she could not hold the secret inside her. “What of them, Sir Christian? I do not know. You see, my father was a knight, my mother a servant in his household. He never wed her, and his family did not want me after his death.”

      Christian became very still. “Your father was not wed to your mother? Who told you this?”

      “My mother. Who would know better than she?”

      He raked that thick dark hair straight back from his brow. “But that is not possible—”

      She stiffened. “I assure you it is possible.” She turned her back on him. “I cannot stand about discussing matters you do not understand. I must fetch Hagar before Nina awakens. I will need her help.” She hurried to the door.

      He went after her, grabbing her wrist in a tight grip, desperate to get her to listen. “Rowena, please, I must speak with you—”

      She winced, jerking away from him.

      Christian held up his hands in supplication. “Forgive me, I had no intention of harming you. I but wanted to…”

      Rowena did not linger to hear him out. She could not reveal the pain she felt at seeing him so shocked by her revelation. As she ran down the path, she asked herself why she should even care for the opinion of a knight about whom she knew so little.

      She was but a moment’s delay in Christian Greatham’s life. Even if being held in his arms had made her feel truly safe for the first time in her memory.

      Once he was fully recovered he would be on his way, possibly to continue his search for the young woman he hoped to use to avenge his former foster father. Whatever he chose to do, it did not involve her.

      Chapter Four

      In deference to the new mother and her child, Christian spent that night in the small shed beside Rowena’s cottage. There had seemed to be a decided relief in her face when he suggested it.

      He retired before Hagar—whom Rowena had brought back to the cottage with all haste—left for the night. Though the older woman had not pointedly ignored his presence, as Rowena had seemed to, she was too occupied with helping to look after mother and child for more than the briefest of exchanges with him. Yet during that conversation Hagar did make known to him her amazement and gratitude over his helping Nina.

      Unaccountably, Christian found himself wishing Rowena would look upon him with such approval. He told himself it would make his task far easier if she did not display such unfathomable antagonism in the face of his efforts to discover more about her!

      In spite of his whirling thoughts, the bed of hay he fashioned beneath the heavy furs was comfortable, and he slept late.

      Yet as soon as he awoke it all came rushing back. He could not believe that none of what he had told Rowena had seemed to strike even the remotest note of familiarity with her. Could he be wrong in his belief that she was the one?

      Christian did not think so. Her appearing here at the precise time that Jack had said Rosalind and the nurse had gone to Ashcroft was too much of a coincidence. He was especially certain because of Rowena’s lack of knowledge about her past, other than having been told about being the bastard child of an English knight. The story should not have surprised him so, for of course she had to be told something about her past. It would have prevented her questioning too deeply.

      Yet he thought again of how she had listened to all he had said without so much as blinking. It was, in fact, quite odd that she had not even considered it possible that she might be the one.

      Could it be because she did not wish it?

      Christian threw back the furs in frustration. Going into the cottage, he bade Rowena and Nina, “Good morrow.”

      Rowena barely glanced in his direction, seeming as agitated as the previous evening.

      He was distracted from his contemplation of the stiff line of her slender back by Nina, who replied, “Good morrow, good sir.” The young mother, who lay against the pillows in bed, glanced down at the child sleeping against her breast. She then looked up at Christian with a smile beaming with gratitude, though her cheeks were still quite pale. “I have no words to thank you for all you have—”

      Christian held up a hand, forestalling her. “Your thanks are well met, though in all honesty ’twas nature and Rowena who accomplished the important tasks.” He reached out his arms. “May I?”

      Nina lifted the sleeping infant toward him.

      He looked down into the tiny face, which seemed to have become so much more defined even over the course of a night. His heart swelled with gratitude that all had indeed gone well for this tiny being.

      “Nonsense, you are to be commended for doing what you did. Many would have gone for help before even trying.” Though Rowena’s words were spoken stiffly, their content was approving.

      While he could not deny a certain amount of pride as well as pleasure at her compliment, Christian gave a rueful laugh. “Had I felt that there was any choice, I would have done so. And quite gladly.”

      She looked from him to the child, those green eyes unreadable as they held his for a long moment before she turned away. He watched Rowena bustle about the cottage, the weight of the babe in his arms awakening a strange sort of yearning he could not explain.

      A noise from without heralded Sean’s arrival only minutes later. Through the open door Christian saw that he was riding in a small cart pulled by a donkey.

      When Rowena swung around, saying, “Thank you for coming so quickly, my friend,” Christian realized that she must have asked him to come while he himself was still sleeping.

      The young man frowned as he entered the cottage, watching Christian as if he were a leper.

      Immediately Rowena said, “I am nearly finished readying Nina and the child for the journey.”

      “What is this you say?” Christian questioned.

      Rowena barely glanced at him as she said, “Nina insists on going home, where she can be near the babe’s father. Sean has agreed to take her in his cart. They must go before the tide rises, for it will block the way to her village.” She moved to hold out her arms for the infant, as if that action would prevent any argument.

      It did not. Relinquishing the babe reluctantly, Christian scowled. “But she is too weak—”

      It was Nina who interrupted. “They only do as I have asked. I want—need to be with my child’s father. Surely now he will see that he must be with me.” Her gaze was distant and determined.

      Christian realized that she would not be swayed. He also saw the worry on Rowena’s face. It was clear she would have insisted Nina stay longer if she thought there was any hope of her complying.

      Seeming unaware of Christian at the moment, Rowena looked toward Sean. “You will see her safely to her home? Make certain the child’s father is willing to care for them before you leave her?”

      Sean bowed, his eyes lighting up when she smiled at him with gratitude. “Anything you ask of me, Rowena.”

      The response seemed overeager, to Christian’s ears. Rowena always referred to the young man as a friend, but that did not mean he felt the same. Christian told himself that the tightening in his belly was due to the fact that a budding romance would only complicate his task. Now it was he who watched Sean carefully as the young man went about helping Rowena to prepare her charges for their journey.

      The two friends spoke easily, as those of long acquaintance were wont to do. Their interaction gave nothing more away.

      There was a lull as Sean awaited his next instructions from Rowena, who was dressing the child in tiny woolen garments. With a tense expression, he approached Christian, who was studying them from