When Love Awaits

Chapter 30

AFLUTTERING of movement woke Rolfe and he opened his eyes to see Leonie slipping out of bed. Their argument had caused him to lie awake half the night trying to piece together what had happened.

It was possible that she might learn what Amelia had been to him, but he didn't even want to think about that possibility. If Leonie insisted Amelia leave, how could he explain to her that Amelia must stay? He could not tell Leonie the other woman was to bear him a child. He had told her Amelia was his ward. If she learned about Amelia's child, he would lose any further chance to win her love.

He watched Leonie as she slipped into her blue linen robe and moved over to the small hearth. She sat down on a stool there to begin combing the tangles from her hair. The light from the window made her silken silver tresses shine. How lovely she was!

And she was considerate, a truly kind woman. She would not call for her maid as long as he was asleep. And she was as kind to the servants as she was to him.

What was it about this woman that turned him inside out? She caused him sleepless nights, made his temper run riot, caused him endless confusion, endless worry. Caused his hopes to rise, then to crumble.

Would he ever be at ease with her?

Thorpe suggested he talk with her frankly, but Rolfe wasn't willing to take that risk. In truth, he feared that the real reason she had been against him from the start was that she loved that craven knight, Alain Montigny. The sole reason for her hatred of him was that he now owned Montigny's land. Was that the truth? The last thing he wanted was to force such a confession from her. It would end his hopes.

Leonie felt him staring at her. She rose and went to him, looking worried.

"It is no wonder you slept so long. You have tried to do too much too soon, my lord," she scolded gently. "Let me see your wound now, will you?"

He nodded. Her silver-gray eyes met his. "My lord, I beg you to forget last night. I was overly tired and—and I am never myself when I am nervous. If I angered you, I am sorry."

"You are still so nervous about meeting Henry?"

She nodded and gave him a baleful look.

"Then we will return to Crewel."

She was stunned. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course," he said simply. "I didn't realize you were so frightened."

"It is not fear, exactly. More like . . . unease," she assured him. "I am sure it will pass." Knowing that he was willing to change his plans for her added greatly to her self-confidence. "It is too late to turn back now. The king expects us."

"Henry can be disappointed once in a while."

"No, my lord, truly, I will control my nerves."

"You are sure?"

"Yes. And the worst that will happen is that my old rash will reappear.

It used to whenever I went to court as a child."

"That might not be so bad." He grinned. "Then I won't have to worry that every knight in the kingdom is being smitten by you."

She shrugged. "I have outgrown my nervous rashes, so it will not happen."

Rolfe frowned. "Leonie, you had a rash on the day we married."

"Of course, my lord," she replied dryly.

"You mean you didnothave a rash?"

Her eyes flashed. "You know why I was veiled. I do not wish to speak of it."

Rolfe stared incredulously as she got up and stalked angrily to the door. Did she really think he understood?

"Leonie!"

She turned only long enough to say furiously, "I will not speak of it!

Now, stir yourself, my lord, or we will not reach London before nightfall."

She slammed the door, leaving Rolfe more bewildered than he had ever been in his life.