Page 76 of Knight School Chronicles Box Set

“ Y ou defy me at every turn, Roland.”

He was glad his mother took Amalia from the chamber. That his father made her shed even one tear took all of Roland’s patience.

“You raised me to become the next earl of de Vere,” he replied, his tone not holding back his anger. “A role that requires honor, integrity, and strength. I am no longer a boy who must be told what to think. I am a man led by ideals and will make decisions freely of my own volition.”

“This role”—his father remained calm, thankfully—“requires decisions to be made that ensure our family line continues. That our people are well taken care of. You spurn a woman whose union could have nearly doubled our land in favor of one who brings us nothing.”

Roland’s grip on his wine goblet tightened. “She brings me love, and for our people, a knowledge of herbs like none other. She will be an example to our children of fortitude and kindness.”

“Roland—”

“Nay, Father. I will not listen to Amalia’s character being slandered. She is good, and loyal, and loves me despite my reputation with women, despite any of those who would besmirch my name.”

That earned, if not a smile, less of a scowl from his father. “I fear your brother Geoffrey is attempting to follow you in every way, with women included.”

“I will speak to him.”

That time, his father actually laughed. “I would very much like to hear that conversation.” He sighed. “In fact, perhaps not.”

“Where is Emeric?” All of his siblings were married, no longer residing at Greyridge, except Geoffrey and Emeric, his middle brother.

“He is in the borderlands, negotiating a trade agreement.”

“I would hear more about this agreement.”

“Do you plan to remain at Greyridge?”

“I do not. But will return when I am able, if welcomed.”

His father said nothing for some time.

Roland did not press him. Knowing his father, he would not make a hasty decision. Neither would Roland tell him what Matilda had said to him. If his father chose Roland as his successor, he would do so without being forced. And at this moment, Stephen was still king.

His father stood. Moved toward the fire, looking into the flames.

Roland’s chest constricted.

He now knew Roland fought for a secret knightly order that supported the opposite position as he. The earl knew of his intention to marry a lady’s maid. Every transgression, or what his father believed were his transgressions, was now disclosed.

Closing his eyes, he thanked God for the blessings he’d received, being born into a noble family.

For having met Amalia and being given the opportunity to serve a cause he believed in.

Whatever his father decided, Roland would accept it with grace and make the best decision for his and Amalia’s future together.

His father turned to him.

“You’ve never coveted the earldom as some sons do. Accepted it, aye. But not coveted it in the same way you have my other title.”

“The Lion of Ravensbrook,” Roland said. He could not disagree with his father’s words.

“Your deed on the battlefield is far greater than anything I’ve ever done. I may have saved lives at the Battle of Ravensbrook, but you saved the one that mattered most.”

Geoffrey.

“I disagree with you on many things, Roland. That we are on opposite sides of the political landscape is no small matter, but it seems these things will be decided for us, and if we are lucky, the de Vere family line will remain intact. Neither do I agree that you’ve made the most advantageous match for yourself, taking Mistress Amalia as a wife.

But you’ve shown clearly that family, above all, matters most. And for that, I can think of no better man to serve this earldom when my time in the role has ended. ”

Roland had been about to take a sip of wine when his father began speaking. He lowered the goblet, frozen at his lips, without drinking it.

Of all the things he’d expected his father to say . . .

You saved the one that mattered most. You’ve shown clearly that family, above all, matters most.

“I was simply doing my duty as a brother.”

“And when I was given that moniker, I was doing my duty as a knight. We do not execute such deeds for recognition and glory, but because they are right and just.”

The Lion of Ravensbrook. There was no glory in it for his father, as there was no glory in saving Geoffrey’s life, except that his brother was spared.

And then it hit him.

I can think of no better man to serve this earldom when my time in the role has ended.

Roland stood. “Will you accept Amalia?”

“When we do eventually return, will you also accept that she wishes to open an herb shop? ’Tis not negotiable, despite that having the lady of de Vere do such a thing will be highly unusual. That has been Amalia’s dream for a long time, and I wish to help her fulfill it.”

His father did not hesitate. “I will.”

“You were angry, earlier.”

“I am still angry, Roland. As I said, you’ve been the most difficult of my sons to tame. A father can be angry but also love and admire his child. Someday, you will understand.”

He did not care if his father disliked affection. Roland went to him, tossed his arms around him, and loved him in a way he never had until that moment. When his father hugged him back, patting his shoulder as if he were a young boy, Roland had to hold back tears.

The earl was not so enlightened that he’d taken kindly to Roland crying on his shoulder.

When his father released him, Roland looked into his eyes, understanding him in a way he never had before. “I will honor this family,” he vowed.

“I know you will.

Roland stepped back. Now was the time to tell him. “I spoke with the empress on our journey. She took a liking to Amalia.”

His brows rose, but the earl said nothing.

“She said, when she takes the crown, she will pardon our family for my contribution to her.”

That managed to surprise him. There had been many instances of family’s split loyalties where, no matter the victor, they were punished for it.

“She is a queen in hiding, Roland.”

“And Stephen is a king in captivity.”

His father smiled. “Touché.” He raised his goblet.

Both men drank.

“Come, before the meal is cleared. Cook made roast boar with honey glaze, and I’ve not yet had a bite.”

Did his father know it was one of his favorite meals?

By his smile, it seemed perhaps he did. Roland followed him to the hall, where the meal, unfortunately, had already been cleared.

He spoke briefly with his mother and learned she’d installed Amalia in her room already; she promised to send Roland the meal.

He left his father to recount their conversation as Roland took two steps at a time to find his handfasted bride.

When he entered the bedchamber, one of honor that clearly showed his mother’s acceptance of Amalia, he found her in the wooden tub. Without speaking a word, he held out a hand. She took it.

Roland worshipped her body with the drying cloth. Every bit of wetness, he caressed as he dried. Her shoulders and arms, Amalia’s beautiful breasts. Still, he said nothing. When he was finished, Roland took her into his arms, kissing her deeply.

With his father’s words still swirling in his mind, Roland picked Amalia up and carried her to the bed.

“So your talk went better than expected?”

“Much better,” he said, stripping off his clothes and climbing into the bed beside her. “I will tell you about it later. Now,” he said, his fingers gently gliding from the side of her breast, down her waist, and lower, “I wish to make love to my wife.”

“I am not your wife yet.”

Roland moved above her, spreading her legs with his knees. His hand and fingers found their goal...and found Amalia wet for him already.

Positioning himself and entering her, Roland looked into those hazel eyes, finally burying himself full hilt.

He wanted to show her how much she meant to him.

When he told Amalia of his father’s words, he wanted her to have no doubt that, if things had gone differently, it would not have mattered. He’d have given up all of it, for her.

“I love you,” he said, moving slowly at first.

“I love you,” she pulled him down to her. As their lips met, and hips rose and fell in tandem, their lovemaking was not frantic with need. It was slow and steady, a joining of two people becoming one.

Circling his hips, Roland only let himself go when Amalia called his name, her entire body tensing, her nails digging into his back. Recovering himself, Roland raised his head.

“You are my wife already, in all the ways that matter. But will also be mine in truth before we return to Castle Blackwood.”

Her eyes widened. “Will we marry here? With your father’s blessing?”

“If you will have me?”

“I will have you, Roland de Vere. Today, and all the rest of my life.”