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Roland did not crack even a hint of a smile. “I am thinking quite clearly, I can assure you.”
She’d never expected this conversation. These past days had been torture, avoiding him. But Amalia had guarded her heart, knowing she had no other choice. And now . . . this.
“Court me.”
“Aye.”
“An unconventional courtship, would you not say? On likely the most important mission of your life.”
“And yours, Amalia. You are one of us now.”
Indeed, she was.
“An earl’s son simply does not marry a lady’s maid.”
“Neither does he join the opposing force to his father, the earl. Neither does he break a betrothal. If my father disinherits me, it will not be because of you. What sort of man would I be, to watch Gareth and Lady Evelina risk the same and sit back, allowing the only woman for whom I’ve had such feelings as I’ve had these past days to be with someone else?”
“There is no one else,” Amalia said quietly.
“Not now. But there will be. The men all speak of you as if you are an angel sent from the heavens. Not only the ones you’ve aided, either.”
“’Tis because there are no other females, save Lady Elara, at Castle Blackwood.”
“Nay, Amalia, ’tis because you are beautiful. And kind. And skilled. Do not speak ill of the woman I’m determined to court, whether she will have me or nay.”
Her brows rose. “You will court me no matter my response to you this eve.”
“Aye, I will.”
“What I say here matters not then.”
“It matters very much. If you say nay, it will make our courtship more challenging, but ’twill not dissuade me. I know you desire me, Amalia, as I do you.”
Her heart thudded. “How could you know such a thing?”
He smiled for the first time since they began to speak. “Our kiss revealed you, my lady.”
“I am no lady, as I told you before. Just a simple mistress—”
“You will be if we marry.”
Suddenly, his words became real to her. She would be the wife of an earl’s son. Amalia shook her head. “I have no ambitions except for my herbs. This is . . . ’tis too much.”
“It is precisely your lack of ambition for a title that endears me to you. That, among many other things. I simply cannot stay away from you, Amalia, and do not wish to try any longer. Allow me nothing more than conversation, courtship. Perhaps you will decide you do not wish to be with me.”
Amalia was fairly certain that would not happen. And had known, from the moment he first asked, what her answer would be.
“You may court me,” Amalia said.
Roland smiled.
“I am glad for it.” He stood and offered his hand. “I will begin doing so this very eve.”
Amalia was about to ask what he meant when a voice called to them. “Roland? Amalia? You are needed in the keep.”
It was Alden.
“We are coming,” he called back.
“It seems an urgent matter,” she said.
“Everything is an urgent matter with this mission. But no more urgent than this conversation. I will admit, your answer pleases me. Very much.”
“As your question pleases me.”
Together they made their way toward the keep, where it became apparent why Sir Eamon was looking for him. Or rather, Amalia.
Alden stood with a man she did not know, but by his clothing he appeared to be a knight of Ashbourne. He also appeared to be a walking corpse. Amalia had never seen a man that shade of white before.
She ran to him, Roland forgotten.
At least, for now.
