Johanna Lindsey - When Love Awaits

"Order the gate opened," he said coldly.

Leonie's features marked her defeat. Rolfe had called her bluff. Her advantage was lost and they both knew it. He knew he was safe inside her keep, for he had an army outside.

"Do as he says, Sir Guibert," Leonie said quietly. "I will await him in the hall."

"Do not take it so hard, Leonie," he said gently. "Perhaps he will give you what you want, now that he knows how strongly you feel."

She nodded sadly and left.

Guibert's temper rose as he watched her go. He could not bear seeing her so desolate. He didn't approve of what she had done, but her motives were understandable. Angrily, he went to meet Rolfe d'Ambert.

ROLFE rode into the bailey and dismounted from his large war-horse.

He was furious. He had left Crewel with a light heart, deciding to believe that Leonie loved him. After all, how could she respond to him so passionately if she really loved Montigny? he had chided himself.

The question was as irrelevant now as Alain was dead and buried.

Rolfe hadn't been there to see it, but he had been told about it. In the stupidest action imaginable, the young fool had managed to enter Blythe Keep and incite the besieged occupants to attack Rolfe's small camp outside the keep. He had then led them on to Warling, thinking the occupants under siege there would come out and join the battle. They did not, but it truly would have made no difference if they had. Either Montigny was simpleminded, or he had greatly underestimated the size of Rolfe's army. There was no real battle at all. Montigny had gathered less than a hundred men. They were quickly overcome, and many died, including Alain Montigny.

The occupants of besieged Warling, witnessing the slaughter, quickly came to terms of surrender.

Rolfe had not been there to see this astonishing turn of events because he was called away to Normandy only a few days after leaving Leonie.

He had spent the last weeks tending to his late brother's estate.

It was an unsettling time, trying to sort out his feelings for his brother.

He finally realized he had none. He felt no particular grief over the death.

He did find, however, that he had no desire to ignore the widow and her children. Altogether it was a trying time.

And then! To come home and learn that Leonie had been closed up in Pershwick all that time, that she was prepared to fight him to stay there!

Once more, she had made a mockery of his trust. He decided this was the last time she would hurt him. If she was so set against him as to do such a thing, then he did not want her back. That decision was firm.

Or so he'd believed. For three days he resisted all impulses to change his mind. The problem was, hedidwant Leonie back, and at any cost, too.

He'd even brought his army to prove that to her. And now, to find that all this drama was motivated only by jealousy! He didn't know whether he wanted to shower her with kisses or throttle her.

He did know one thing. She would not come out of this free of retribution. She had to be made to see that she couldn't run to her vassals every time he and she disagreed.

If Rolfe's anger had simmered to mild exasperation, it did not stay that way. Sir Guibert met him in the bailey and told him flatly that Leonie would not leave Pershwick at all unless she left willingly. He was prepared to support his stand with all necessary force.

Rolfe was livid. "Do you understand in what cause you are prepared to die?"

"I do, my lord."

"Do you know also that my wife's jealousy is unfounded? There is a good reason for Lady Amelia's being at Crewel.Ido not prefer it that way, but so it must be."

"We are aware there is a child involved," Guibert replied, undaunted.

"We?"

"Lady Leonie would not take this hard stand if she had only suspicions."

Rolfe glowered. "I told you her jealousy is unfounded. The child does not concern her because it was conceived before I wed her."

"Then you must convince her of that, my lord, for she surely believes otherwise."

Rolfe was brought up short. The statement was made matter-of-factly.

It was bad enough that Leonie had learned of the child when he had hoped to spare her that knowledge as long as possible. But for her to think . . .

"Take me to her," Rolfe demanded, angry anew over the foolish notions in Leonie's mind. It showed clearly what opinion she had of him.

He remembered now the doubts he had had about letting Amelia remain at Crewel, but even so he'd never guessed what conclusions Leonie might draw from his leniency with Amelia.

As Leonie watched Rolfe cross the hall toward her, she was surprised by her fear and, just below the surface of her fear, her terrific pride in Rolfe. She had to respect a man who held to his purpose so tenaciously.

The truth was, she hadn't wanted him to give in to her demands if his giving in would leave him with a longing for Amelia. That would do no good. Leonie wanted the issue settled forever.

Rolfe came to a halt several feet away from Leonie, studying her position and demeanor. She was standing behind a chair, her fingers gripping the high backrest as if to keep the chair between them. Her chin was raised defiantly, but her eyes were uncertain and fearful.

"Was it necessary for you to come here with an army, my lord?" she asked, seizing the opening.

He might have laughed, for there were a dozen armed men about the hall, as well as her stalwart vassal and a goodly number of brutish-looking serfs who didn't even attempt to conceal their dislike of Rolfe d'Ambert.

"Be glad I did, wife, for if I had come here alone, you would have stood fast to your foolishness and forced me to resort to harsh measures later on."

She bridled. "It is hardly foolish to—" She clamped her mouth shut. "I will not argue about that. What do you wish to do now?"

"Take you back."

"And if I refuse to leave? Will you attack my keep?"

"I will leave not a single stone standing," he answered. "I am tempted to dismantle Pershwick anyway." His face hardened. "You cannot come here and pit your people against me every time you are upset with me, Leonie. If you ever do this again, I will not hesitate to destroy Pershwick.

You belong with me."

"But I am nothappywith you!" She flung the words at him.

She might as well have stabbed him. He told himself not to open his heart to her if all she wanted was to trample on it.

"I had hoped in time you would come to love me, Leonie, or at least to find life with me . . . pleasant. I regret that you cannot." His voice was funereal.

Her heart dropped into her belly. "You—you will give me up?"

Rolfe's eyes narrowed darkly. So that was what she wanted. "No, madame, I will not give you up."

Joy leaped into her breast, and she cautioned herself against revealing too much of herself to him.

"What of Amelia?" she asked evenly.

He sighed wearily. "She will be moved to another keep."

"To another ofyourkeeps? What real difference will that make?"

"Do not be heartless, Leonie," he growled. "You know she is with child. Would you have me abandon a pregnant woman?"

"I would never ask that of you!" she cried. "But must you keep her always within reach, so that she is there to comfort you whenever you are angry with me?"

"Damn me, where have you gotten this notion? The woman was my mistress, yes. I regret that a child was conceived. But I have not touched her since I wed you, and I am mystified by your implying that I have— or shall."

"Lady Amelia says differently, my lord," she informed him.

"You mistook her," Rolfe replied rigidly.

Leonie turned her back to him, so furious she wanted to hit him with something. Sweet Mary, how could she love him when he made her so furious? He was lying. He surely was!

"Gather what you will, Leonie." Rolfe addressed her stiff back. "We are leaving. Now. And if you value Sir Guibert's life, you will tell him you are going willingly."

She swung back around. "I am not going willingly, but you won't have to drag me away or kill anyone," she hissed at him.

She swept past him to order her trunk packed. Then she conferred with Guibert, who was greatly relieved to know that she had agreed to go home with her husband.

"He is not angry with you?" Guibert asked doubtfully as he eyed Rolfe pacing the hall impatiently.

"His anger does not frighten me," Leonie lied bravely.

"He refused to send the other woman away?" her vassal asked hesitantly.

"No," she said with a sigh. "He agreed."

Guibert frowned. "Then you should be pleased, my lady."

"Indeed—I should be. But I am not."

Guibert shook his head as he watched her flounce away.

BUT things were to resolve themselves in a manner no one could have expected.

No sooner had Leonie returned to Crewel and entered the master bedchamber than a maid frantically sought her out.

"My lady, she is dying! You must come—please," Janie cried.

"It's a ruse," Wilda said quickly. The young maid was Amelia's own servant, and not part of the Crewel household. "The woman has learned that she will be sent away, and she means to prevent it by claiming illness." She cast a triumphant look at Janie.

Wilda stood firmly planted between Leonie and Janie, and Leonie was gratified that Wilda was trying to protect her, as she so often did. If nothing else had been accomplished by going to Pershwick, at least she had been able to bring Wilda back with her.