If Not For The Knight by Debbie Boek (ebook reader below 3000 TXT) 📖

“Yes, I realize that. And so, we will continue to live as we did before your recent arrival.” Taking a deep breath, knowing that she needed to be firm, but not sure if she could go through with it, Regan stated resolutely, “I should not spend any more time alone with you, Milord. Should someone see us, they may misconstrue our intentions. It would not go well for Radolf, or myself.”

“So, you will stay away from me and keep yourself at the ready for Edgar?” he asked coldly.

“I am his wife, Milord,” Regan answered, her tone matching his.

“And what of your feelings toward me?”

“I cannot have feelings for you, Milord, other than the respect and loyalty that are your due.” Her voice was getting louder now, and she was able to hear the waver in it as her mixed emotions made their way closer to the surface. “Aric is dead and you will leave again soon. I cannot make Radolf's life any more difficult by being weak as far as you are concerned.”

“You do want me.” It was a statement, not a question.

“My wants have never been a high priority to the people in my life. I see no evidence of that changing now.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply, enjoying the way she leaned into him, knowing her body could not refuse him as her mind would like to.

She pulled away from him suddenly and placed her hand on his chest. “I will not be your whore, Calder. I will not do that to my son.”

With that she turned away from him and walked swiftly toward her parent's cottage, fighting back tears as she went.

Calder walked slowly back to the Manor. His anger faded as he replayed her words over in his head and realized that she spoke the truth.

Regan was a married woman and he was exploiting her feelings for him. He had already placed her in a position within the village where no one, including her husband, showed her or her son any respect.

He had forced her to marry Edgar. In hindsight, the marriage was obviously a grave error on his part, although his intentions had been good. He had forced her into a cruel life, one that he could not remedy at this point. The only thing he could do for her was to stay away and not prey on her affections any longer, and avoid placing her in an even more precarious position within the community.

Calder sighed heavily, looking heavenward as if the stars in the sky could show him what to do. He already knew, in his heart, that the best thing he could do for Regan would be to stay out of her life, but that realization did not sit well with him.

He had not corrected her misconception that he would be leaving soon and did not plan to. It would be best for her if she believed that for now. In time, he prayed, they would find the fortitude within themselves to put an end to the strange attraction they held for each other.

Walking up the steps of the Manor, he decided that he would have Regan finish with the taxes, and then release her from his service. It would be too difficult to see her each day and not be able to converse with her or touch her. Entering the Hall, he joined his men and bellowed for a tankard of ale, determined to put Regan out of his head, one way or another.

The funeral went as well as could be expected the next day, with most of the villagers in attendance to pay their respects. During the service, Calder stood beside Devona and her children, trying to keep his gaze from straying to where Regan stood alone, off to the side of the crowd.

Afterward, he walked with Devona back to the Hall. Lifting a tankard of ale, he took a large draught, hoping it would relieve the headache still lingering from the large quantity he had consumed the night before. He looked over at his brother's children, feeling the weight of responsibility for their welfare.

“What are your plans now, Devona?” he asked.

“Calder,” she said, her screechy voice shooting a bolt of pain through his skull, “you must help us. You must help with the running of these lands until Harlan is old enough to run them himself.”

He looked down at the hand she placed on his arm and took it in his own. “Devona,” he began reluctantly, not knowing how she would take the news he was about to give her, “when the King heard how sick Aric was, he gave the lands over to me.”

Devona sat back in her chair, stunned at this news. “That is not fair, Calder. How could he take away my son's legacy?”

“Harlan will still inherit the lands in Normandy. The King was worried about a bid from Roderick to take these lands. He wanted to ensure that they remained in our family.”

“Our family!” she cried shrilly. “It is not our family who has them in their possession now, is it, Calder? It is yours and the land will be given to your heir, not Aric's, as was meant to be.”

Her face was pale with fury as she regarded her brother-in-law. “What promises did you make the King in order to steal these lands from my son?”

“I know your grief overwhelms you, Devona, and that is the only reason you would be foolish enough to say such a thing to me.” His tone was cold as he stared fixedly at her, trying to keep foremost in his mind that she was suffering the loss of her husband.

Devona hesitated a moment, knowing Calder was not a man to take lightly, but her anger and frustration ran so high that she could not let the subject rest. “My children and I will be leaving for London in the morning. I will seek an audience with the King and straighten this matter out.”

“As you wish,” he answered, half-hoping she would be successful in her mission.

The next week passed quickly and quietly. Each day the required number of villagers showed to fulfill their duties, rather than spend the day in the pillory. No more livestock had been stolen, but many were frustrated at having them mixed in together, as Filbert never hesitated to mention in his nightly reports to Calder.

Regan, Radolf and Draco followed a set routine. Draco would just be sitting down to eat when they arrived each morning and would insist they both join him. Once he was satisfied that the two of them had eaten enough, they would begin their rounds to the rest of the cottages. There was still some difficulty in acquiring all of the information they needed, but Draco's presence loosened tongues sufficiently.

Regan was somewhat dismayed by Calder's aloof attitude toward her since the night he had walked her home. She knew it was for the best but could not help feeling a little depressed that he no longer seemed interested in her at all. With a heavy heart, she determined that, perhaps her own words had turned him away, perhaps he did just want her as his whore. It was difficult though, for her to reconcile that idea with the way that she felt about him.

Watching him, talking with him and feeling his occasional touches were the only bright spots in her life, besides Radolf, and she missed them dearly.

Edgar had not been home in some time. Although eating breakfast with Draco and dinner with her parents was the only way that they were able to survive, she was happy that she at least did not have to deal with Edgar's anger.

Calder pushed himself hard every day for several different reasons; to ease his grief over Aric's death, to quell his frustration at having to stay away from Regan, and most importantly, because he was filled with an insistent need to get the castle completed as soon as possible. There was a niggling fear somewhere deep inside of him that trouble was coming, and soon. He wanted to be sure they would be prepared to meet any threat.

"Milord," Filbert said one night, after they had gone over the duties to be assigned the following day. "My people are most curious at whom their new Lord will be. They are more afraid of the unknown than the known. I wish to set their minds at ease. Has there been any word?"

"Tell your people that these lands now belong to me. It is the King's wish for it to be so. Go and put their minds at ease now, Filbert." He added the last with a wry grin, knowing the villagers despised him and that their reaction would be anything but joyous.

"Yes, Milord," he said, leaving quickly to spread the word. The villagers had been cooperating only because of their fear of Calder, and because of the knowledge that he would be leaving soon. They would not be happy about the news.

Filbert ran into Edgar as he passed the stables. The news that Calder was to be their new Lord instantly turned Edgar’s face beet red with fury. He would die before letting that Norman bastard govern him.

He ran to Maida's, where he consumed several large tankards of whiskey while trying to decide what he could do to change this new and unwanted turn of events. But, he eventually determined that he could do nothing. Frustrated and angry, he decided it might be a good time to visit his devoted wife and see what information she could impart on the subject.

CHAPTER 11

The following afternoon, Draco pulled Calder aside. “Milord,” Draco said quietly, “I cannot be sure, but I believe something happened to Regan last night.”

“What do you mean?” Calder asked