When Love Awaits

Chapter 17

IT was a lazy day, sun kissing velvet flowers, a chorus of birds singing. A glorious summer day of warm fragrant breezes.

Leonie waited in the bailey after leaving Amelia, hidden, until she saw her husband return to the hall. Once he was gone, she stopped by the stable and saw for herself that her gentle mare had not been harmed by Rolfe's horse. Relieved, she walked along the path until she came to the woods. She lingered there, hoping to find solitude in the forest.

She found solitude, but it was not welcome. She wept, which led to disgust with herself. She decided to go on to the village, needing the distraction, but that proved equally upsetting, for while she had forgotten the mischief her people had caused there, the Crewel serfs had not forgotten. The women spared her only a shy word or two, and the men shied away. She did not stay.

By midafternoon she was back inside the walls of Crewel Keep, but she still could not bear seeing her husband yet. She located the kitchen garden, seeking further distraction. The garden amazed her, the vegetables and herbs so overgrown with weeds they couldn't be seen.

It was bad enough that Crewel was filthy, but a garden was a source of food. A garden gave spices that made moldy dishes at the end of winter palatable. A garden gave herbs that healed and comforted. It was intolerable to find the garden in this condition.

"You are being searched for, my lady."

Leonie whirled around at the sound of the tiny voice. A girl seven or eight years old was kneeling on the ground pulling up weeds. At least someonewas making an effort.

"What is your name, child?"

"Idelle."

Leonie smiled encouragingly, for she could see the little girl was nervous. "You should have help with all this weeding."

"Oh, no, my lady. Cook would not like it if I couldn't manage this task alone. I am only to pick a few greens for the salad."

"Greens? And did cook tell you which greens to pick?"

The young face crumbled. "I asked him, but—but he said any greens.

Have I done wrong? I did not mean to do wrong, my lady."

Leonie said gently, "No, you did as you were told. How long have you helped in the kitchens, Idelle?"

"Not long. I was learning to weave, but Lady Amelia doesn't like children within the keep, so my sister sent me to the kitchens."

"Then someone should have shown you what to pick and what to throw away in this overgrown mess. What you have there I call 'good-for-nothings.' "

Idelle grinned. "Truly?"

"Truly." Leonie smiled back. "Now let me see." She bent down and parted a heavy clump of foliage. "Ah! Thereissomething edible here, after all. These will do for a salad." And she began filling the girl's basket with as many dandelion leaves as she could find.

"Once again I find you in a garden."

Leonie's hands froze. Even her breathing stopped.

"I told you they were looking for you," Idelle whispered.

Leonie tried to smile and failed. "So you did. Go back to the kitchen, Idelle. The cook will have to make do with what you have."

They both rose at the same time, Idelle to move quickly past the awe-inspiring lord of Kempston, and Leonie to face him.

Once again she was struck by the handsomeness of the man, and for a fleeting moment all else was forgotten as she looked him over slowly.

From the thickly muscled legs in fine hose to the brown tunic shot with gold thread, everything he wore emphasized the power of his body.

Meeting those velvety brown eyes brought back Amelia's words. She decided she would not demean herself by asking him questions about Amelia, or about his bringing her there. His wanting to start anew, as he'd said, was obviously a lie. And more lies would only confuse her.

Also, she did not want him thinking she was upset over Amelia.

"You call this a garden, my lord?" That was a safe enough subject.

Rolfe spared the briefest look around before his gaze returned to the lovely vision before him. "What would I know of gardens?"

"You saw mine at Pershwick."

"Did I?" He moved closer, grinning. "No, little flower, I saw only you."

She felt a fluttering in her belly and her face flushed hot as fire. This would not do, this complexity of emotions he was able to stir in her. She had to stop his effect on her.

"Do you call me ' little flower' to remind me of how you might have shamed me before my people?"

Rolfe's spirits sank. She was angry. Her eyes shone like polished silver, her dark brows were slashed together, and her lips were set in a hard line. Once again, her anger caused his own to rise.

"Damn me, I thought that was settled!"

Leonie flinched, but she didn't move. Virile strength exuded from the powerful body so close to her, but she held her ground.

"I merely questioned your motive in reminding me of the incident."

Rolfe frowned. How cleverly she made him feel like a cloddish bore for attacking her. Dealing with this particular woman was not going to be easy.

He smoothed the tight line of her lips. "Do you realize the effect you have on me, dearling?" he asked gently. "I see you and my thoughts fly away. If I reminded you of something unpleasant, it was unintentional and I apologize."

Leonie was stunned. Could she believe him? Was he toying with her, trying only to placate her? If so, he was succeeding, and her anger was quickly giving way to nervousness.

She lowered her eyes, utterly confused and helpless. "You—you sought me out, my lord. Was there something you wanted of me?"

He chuckled softly, wickedly, and she drew back.

"My lord—"

"Rolfe."

"I—"

"Rolfe," he insisted. "You are my wife and formality is uncalled for when we are alone."

The reminder was uncalled for! As if she could forget she was his wife! And now he was waiting for her to say his name and, in saying it, acknowledge his ownership of her.

"Leonie?" His voice was husky. "Are you still so shy?"

She could use that excuse . . . but she decided not to hide her feelings just to keep him in a good mood.

"It is more than shyness, my lord," she said frankly. "Perhaps in time . .

."

Rolfe sighed and Leonie felt a certain triumph over not giving in.

"Time I do not have," he told her. "I leave here on the morrow. I do not know when I will return, but when I do, I shall expect you to be more at ease with me. We have been married more than a month."

"But we have not been together that long," she reminded him coldly.

"Even so, you have had time to adjust," he declared.

"I beg to explain," she said stiffly. "You sent me away from here and I thought I would not see you again.Thatis what I adjusted to, my lord."

"So!" he said as if he had learned something important. Leonie grew uncomfortable when he said nothing further.

"My lord, you still have not said why you sought me out."

"I had the ridiculous notion that spending the day with you would be pleasant. Where were you, my lady?"

She began to despair. Everything was getting worse. This quiet anger was worse than shouting.

"I—I walked to the village."

"Who accompanied you?"

Sweet Mary, he was going to make an issue of even that!

"You must know I went alone."

"If I knew, madame, I would not ask. Alone? This is not Pershwick where you may do as you please."

"I am most aware of the truth ofthat,my lord," she said bitterly.

His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you care nothing for your safety, but you are mine now and I protect what is mine. Must I place a constant guard on you?"

"Do not!" She gasped. "I—I know I was wrong to leave the keep without escort, but I was not thinking. I needed—some time. It will not happen again, my lord," she finished quickly, embarrassed by her stammering.

She looked away from his penetrating eyes, and he gripped her chin.

"I am not asking more than I should, Leonie. Do not begrudge me my concern."

She hated herself for being so nervous with him. She hated his reasonable tone. But most of all she hated what he was doing to her, this up and down of churning emotions. She was angry one moment, intimidated the next—and worse was this strange feeling that intruded whenever he touched her.

His fingers moved from her chin up across her cheek. Leonie held her breath, waiting for him to kiss her, but he only gazed into her eyes. His eyes were dark and unfathomable.

"Anger is beneficial at times," Rolfe said. "It clears the air, stimulates the blood. Do not hide your anger from me, Leonie. I may not like it, but I will like it less if you let your anger fester. Do not sulk with me, wife.

And never, never bring anger to my bed."

A quick, feather-light brush of his lips against hers and then he let her go and walked away.

Leonie stared after him, bemused, her fingertips on her face where he had touched it. Her heart was racing.