Lady Rowena's Ruin. Carol Townend

convent, not the castle?’

      ‘Yes.’

      Not meeting her gaze, he shook his head. ‘I cannot. My lady, it pains me to admit it, but Count Faramus has indeed found another man for you to marry.’

      Rowena shivered and wrapped her arms about herself. ‘Do...do you know who it is?’

      Green eyes lifted, held hers. ‘It’s me. Lord Faramus has asked me to marry you.’

      ‘You?’ Rowena blinked and her heart started to race. ‘Eric, you do know I am set on being a nun.’

      His mouth twisted and Rowena felt her cheeks burn under the intensity of his gaze. He sighed and looked away. ‘Aye, the whole of Champagne knows of your wish to take the veil.’

      She leaned forward, running her gaze over his face, the face that was so familiar and yet so changed. Had Eric’s character altered as much as his features? When she was young, he had been an entertaining playmate. She bit her lip. He had taught her chess and she had enjoyed the games, even if Eric had wearied of her company far too soon. Once he’d been made squire, it had been impossible to wring so much as a smile out of him.

      ‘Father can’t make me marry,’ she said. ‘I got the king’s agreement to enter the convent. The king—he is my godfather, if you recall—approves of my wish to take my vows.’

      ‘Sadly, your father does not.’

      Rowena chewed her lip, conscious that even as they were speaking her excitement was rising. She couldn’t understand it. God was surely testing her resolve again, tempting her by offering her a way out of the convent, tempting her almost beyond endurance by sending Eric to her. ‘Sir, I cannot renege on my decision to become a nun.’

      No sooner had the words left her mouth than Rowena found herself wondering what would happen if she did indeed change her mind. What would the king say? She would be pleasing her father, and whilst Rowena couldn’t forget her father had tried to force her into marriage with Lord Gawain when she wasn’t ready, she hadn’t enjoyed fighting him. It had really upset her mother.

      And, most shocking of all, she even found herself wondering if marrying Sir Eric wasn’t such a terrible idea—provided she could reassure herself that Eric wasn’t going to turn into a tyrant like her father. How much had he changed in the years since she’d known him?

      ‘Dear Lord,’ she said, alarmed at how easily her thoughts had run away from her. ‘I was certain that if I won the king’s agreement to take the veil, even Father wouldn’t dare go against him.’

      ‘I agree, it’s surprising,’ Eric said, quietly. ‘However, I should warn you that Lord Faramus is showing no sign of backing down.’

      Rowena touched his sleeve and snatched her hand back as soon as she realised what she had done. She was almost certain she liked this man as much as she had done when he had been a boy. But she would never agree to marry him. Marriage was such a large step. If she married this knight, she would have to obey him for the rest of her days. This was a test of her vocation and she must resist. ‘Sir, let me in on your plans. I need to know your mind.’

      What she couldn’t say, not out loud, was that she really needed to know whether Eric had mirrored himself on her father. What did he intend to do with her? Would he think nothing of riding roughshod over the needs of others to achieve his ambitions?

      He smiled. ‘My lady, I must confess I am reluctant to stand between you and your vocation.’

      ‘Then why kidnap me?’ She stared at his profile. There was more here that Eric wasn’t saying and he seemed determined not to tell her. As a young man he had always been determined. Sir Macaire had once told her that Eric had been set on being a knight from the moment he’d arrived at the castle. He’d been—what?—six years of age. No one knew for sure.

      Rowena hadn’t been born then, so she couldn’t remember Eric’s arrival, she had to rely on what she’d been told. Everyone at Jutigny knew about the small boy her mother had found shivering in the snow one Christmastide. There had been no sign of his parents, so Lady Barbara had taken him in. Eric had been a foundling and he had risen to become a knight thanks to her mother’s charity and his own formidable talents.

      Eric had taken to castle life as though born to it. He was there in Rowena’s deepest memories—practising swordplay with a wooden sword; sneaking out to ride horses that a boy double his size would think twice about mounting; teaching her to climb the plum tree in the herb garden because she had an insatiable fondness for ripe plums...

      Eric was proud, he wouldn’t like to be reminded that he’d been a foundling. To Rowena’s knowledge, he never mentioned it. On the heels of that thought came the realisation that it had been stupid of her to ask why he had fallen in with her father’s wishes. Eric was bound to feel beholden to her family. Her father had allowed him to rise through the ranks and win his spurs. Without her father, Eric would not be the man he was today.

      She sighed. If only her father was less intransigent. He wanted her to marry and he had remembered that she had liked Eric as a child. And he must know how Eric coveted lands. Land represented security—every knight she knew wanted a larger estate and Eric was bound to crave security more than most.

      Had Eric’s nature changed? Had the kind boy grown into a kind man?

      Eric tossed the blade of grass aside and gave her another of those intense looks. ‘My lady, this is most awkward, I do not wish to tell you the whole. Suffice it to say that Lord Faramus put me in a position when I had no choice but to agree to snatch you from the convent.’

      ‘Sir, there is surely always a choice.’

      ‘Not this time.’

      ‘Father threatened you.’

      ‘Not precisely.’

      ‘But he wants you to marry me?’

      ‘So it would seem.’

      ‘I can’t help wondering what Mama would say if she knew.’

      Eric’s skin darkened. ‘My lady, your mother knows about this. Lady Barbara was present at my meeting with Lord Faramus.’

      A cool finger lifted her chin and green eyes looked earnestly into hers.

      ‘My lady, you need not fear me.’ Briefly, his gaze lingered on her lips and his lips quirked into one of those charming smiles she’d seen him direct at the castle maids. ‘Much as I would like to fall in with your father’s suggestion, I believe he is being over-hasty. I am sure that when he is given time to reflect, he will change his mind.’

      The stab of disappointment was unexpected. ‘You’re going to take me back to the convent?’

      ‘Sadly, I can’t do that.’ Eric shoved his hand through his hair. ‘My lady, I didn’t want to tell you this, but if you refuse to come with me, your father is holding someone else in reserve. Someone who may not be as forbearing as I when faced with your refusal to marry him.’

      Rowena could hardly breathe. ‘Do I know him?’

      ‘Yes, my lady, it is Sir Breon de Provins.’ His eyes were watchful. ‘I do not think Sir Breon will hesitate to use force. And imagine the chaos he will cause if he has your father’s blessing to enter the convent.’

      ‘Not Sir Breon, the sisters would be terrified.’ Rowena put her hand to her throat. A lump had formed and she was very much afraid that she might burst into tears. As a knight Sir Breon was efficient enough. Personally, he came over as brusque and cold and Rowena had always kept out of his way, she could never warm to a man like that.

      She felt utterly trapped, exactly as she had done when her father had faced her with marriage to Lord Gawain. ‘I thought Father would leave me in peace once I had the king’s blessing to enter the convent,’ she whispered. ‘I thought I had escaped. I thought I had won leave to order my own life, but it would seem I’ve just swapped one tyranny for another.’

      She