Catherine Archer - Dragon's Daughter

She could not prevent herself from asking, “You mean you are not in love with her?”

He shook his head. “Oh, nay, not in love. I do not even know the woman.” He seemed to study her more intently then, even as she felt an inexplicable sense of relief.

Rowena collected herself instantly, saying, “Then why are you searching for her?”

Christian spoke slowly and deliberately. “Finding her may be the single most important thing I do in my life.”

She shook her head. “You speak without saying anything.”

He looked away, laughing wryly. “Aye, I do.” When he turned back to her there was resignation in his gaze. “It is simply that I endanger her life and her hopes for a future by speaking of her to the wrong person. She has been hidden away for her own protection, and may in fact not even be aware of her true identity.”

Rowena threw up her hands in exasperation. “Still I understand naught of what you say.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps I should begin at the beginning, with what I do know.” He paused, and she remained silent, realizing that he was quite serious about this. “Fifteen years ago I was fostered into the home of a great nobleman, the earl of Kelsey. He was known to those who loved and admired him as The Dragon. He was a man of exceptional character and taught me much of what I know of being a man when my father was too lost in his grief over my mother’s death to heed my own feelings of loss.”

“The Dragon,” she murmured, not realizing that she had said the words aloud until he stopped to watch her. She smoothed her hair back from her brow with a weary hand. “You spoke of dragons and dead babes when you were ill, and I thought you were…”

“Aye.” He nodded. “I can see why such rambling might mark me as mad, but I assure you I am not. You see, The Dragon was betrayed and murdered by his brother, who made it appear as if he had betrayed King Richard by plotting with his enemies. We—my two foster brothers, Simon Warleigh and Jarrod Maxwell, and I—were forced to give testimony that he had indeed met with these men, though we believed the meeting quite innocent, as he had declared.”

“How can you be so certain that your foster father spoke the truth?” Rowena asked.

Christian seemed to hold himself more erect, as if the mere memory of this man was ennobling. “Did you know of him, you would never ask that question. He held truth and honor above all else, and instructed for Simon, Jarrod and I to do the same, no matter what the outcome, though it helped to secure his downfall.”

Rowena felt that such blind faith might be foolish. Yet what Christian chose to believe was his own folly, so she said nothing for a long moment.

But she could not remain silent. Perhaps because, in spite of what her mother had said about her father and her own anger toward him, Rowena was desperate to know something of his world, of him. “What has any of that to do with this Rosalind you search for?”

Christian rubbed a weary hand across his brow. “Rosalind was—is—the daughter of my former foster father. It was believed that she was killed in the battle for Dragonwick Castle. I myself saw the body, though it was covered at the time. We were told by Kelsey’s men that she had fallen from the upper stair whilst trying to get to her father as he fought below.”

“Then why do you search for her?”

“Because it has come to my attention that she may not have died that day. That she was hidden away by the nursemaid in order to protect her.” His gaze now met Rowena’s with a strange intensity.

She frowned. “You imagine she was brought here to Ashcroft?”

He did not break the force of that gaze. “That is what I was told only weeks ago by a dying man.”

“But who was he and how would he know this?”

“He said that it was he who helped the child and the nursemaid to escape the castle. It was the nurse’s red-haired child who Jack saw Kelsey push down the castle steps that day. Though the nurse was grieving her own babe’s death, she was determined to save the little one who had also nursed at her breast. She begged his aid, as they had been lovers. Jack loved The Dragon as loyally as did I and my friends, and abhorred the fact that the earl’s own half brother had wronged him so vilely. Jack felt that parting from his lover was not too high a price to pay in order to see the child safe. They never saw one another again, and it was only because he was dying that he told me what had happened. He knew someone had to know of Rosalind’s existence if there was ever to be any hope of her returning to Dragonwick. Naturally, I had to come and discover if he had spoken true, and then to help her gain her rightful place if he had.”

For some reason Rowena felt an agitation she could not explain. She rose and began to clear the table. “So you took him at his word, coming all this way with no more than that to go by. It could have been nothing more than a delusion brought on by wishful thinking. You said that this Jack felt as you did, that The Dragon had been wronged by his half brother. Perhaps in his illness he fabricated this notion in order to avenge his master before he died.”

Christian stiffened, drawing himself up. “Aye, to a point, though I have told no one else of my quest. And not only because I gave my word to remain silent on the matter until I knew that she would not be placed in danger by my revealing the information. I…did not wish to give false hope to Simon or Jarrod. We have long waited for the day when we might see Kelsey brought low for all he has done.”

Her brows rose. “So this quest you are on is a matter of vengeance. You have no thought for the woman herself.”

He scowled. “Of course I want what is best for Rosalind. She deserves to have what is rightfully hers.”

“Even if she does not wish to become involved in this vendetta? She may very well be happy wherever she is, especially if, as you suspect, she does not know.”

He shook his head. “She must be made to see that she owes it to—”

Rowena interrupted him. “She owes nothing. Why would anyone choose a life fraught with treachery and murder, to be placed in danger that is not of her making? It matters not, at any rate, for you have not found her. Whatever caused your dead friend to imagine that she might be in Ashcroft, he was mistaken. That is misfortune for her, for she would have found a good home here amongst the folk of Ashcroft. She could not have been expected to exchange her life for lands and titles.”

He frowned, but his reply was not what Rowena expected; he changed the subject so abruptly that she felt disoriented for a moment. “I see that you love the people here as a family. But what of your real family, Rowena? Surely there is someone out there, even if both of your parents are dead. What of 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—”