Stranded with Her Forbidden Knight
Author
Melissa Oliver
Reads
18.7K
Chapters
19
Experience the drama unfolding in this medieval forbidden romance set around the wild Cornish coast Caught between duty… And forbidden desire! Lady Elowen is traveling to her loveless arranged betrothal when she's rescued from a storm by Lord Simon Trebarr — the enigmatic knight whose family has long been enemies of her own. She should hate him, yet an unwanted attraction has always simmered whenever he's near… Within the walls of Simon's Cornish castle, can Elowen resist experiencing passion before condemning herself to a life without it… even if it's with the man who should be her enemy?
Prologue
That fateful day had started just the same way as the one before. Yet, it would end like no other. It would end with a tragedy that would change their lives forever.
It had begun as it always had. With two families that despised one another. Two families that each desired the downfall of the other. Just two powerful Cornish families...
Indeed, the enmity between the Trebarrs and Bawdens was as strong and fierce as the waves that frothed and crashed against the cliff, splattering high up in the sky. Even on this mundane of days when the sea was calm and the sky was clear, with only the lightest of breezes rippling through the long, tall grasses dotted around the top of the jagged coastline in the western most point of Simon’s beloved Cornwall.
Yet, she would have it said that it was hers—her beloved western Cornwall. In truth, all of Elowen Bawden’s kin would have been of the same mind. As though the Trebarrs could not also trace their lineage back to a time before the Norman conquest. As though the Trebarrs did not also lay claim to their land, their tinnery, their family name, their honour. No, the Bawdens deemed them somehow to be less than they and why? Well, because they believed the Trebarrs to be betraying their Cornish traditions. And that they were once merchants, traders in fine cattle from Brittany, who eventually settled in Cornwall as many old Cornish families did.
It was jealousy and resentment that fuelled the Bawdens’ anger, yet the Trebarrs could hardly be at fault for that. Despite all his faults, Simon’s father looked ahead to the future prosperity of their kin instead of constantly looking back. It was nothing more than resentment. The Bawdens resented the fact that Edward of Woodstock, the first Duke of Cornwall, The Black Prince, himself, had given his favour to the Trebarrs and bestowed land that once belonged to the Bawdens along with an old tinnery. Jealousy indeed...
Yet, on that fateful day as Simon approached the edge of the cliff and stumbled upon a lone figure—a girl, or rather a young woman—he had no inclination of what might then unfold and unravel soon after. All Simon had wanted was to gratify his curiosity as to the identity of the interloper, which had then been gratified forthwith, as soon as the girl pulled down the hood of her embroidered woollen cape.
It was her.
Just as he’d suspected.
It was Elowen Bawden standing tall and proud with her head thrown back, her eyes shut tightly, breathing the salty sea air into her chest. God, but she looked magnificent, despite the fact that she stood on Trebarr land. For a moment, though, Simon watched her from afar, mesmerised by her famously unusual hair, plaited long and slung over one shoulder. The colour, so fair, so pale, that it almost blinded with its unruly silvery pale brilliance.
Simon gave his head a shake, clearing his mind from his musings, and reminded himself of his duty.
‘Well, well, well,’ he said out loud, breaking whatever solitude Elowen Bawden had been savouring here. ‘Trespassing on Trebarr land, I see.’
She turned on her heel, her long woollen cape flapping around her, evidently annoyed at being disturbed in such a manner. ‘If you could “see” anything at all, then you would know that this land is not in any way yours, Trebarr.’
God, but how he hated the haughty, imperious manner that the girl used to address him—a clipped tone that could crack even the hardiest of findings in the mines. ‘Oh, and how would you surmise that, Mistress Bawden?’
‘Quite easily, Trebarr.’
‘Even when the prince of this kingdom, the county’s own duke, has decreed it so? The very land you stand on belongs to the Trebarrs and no other.’
She lifted a shoulder and dropped it nonchalantly. ‘The king himself could decree it and I would still not accept it so.’
‘Then it is a good thing that it has little to do with the likes of you! And by the by, what you just said is treason.’
‘I am sorry but should I care?’
Simon took a step towards her. ‘Yes, for silly girls who are found guilty of such crimes against the Crown are thrown off the cliff to the depths of the sea.’
Elowen actually rolled her eyes. Rolled those bored dark brown eyes that seemed to see right through him. Indeed, she had taken his measure and knew that he was nothing more than a second son who had to make his way in the world. Not that she cared either way about a Trebarr. As he cared little about Elowen or her kin. But by God her cool appraisal stung. As did her indifference. No wonder the girl was known as the Ice Maiden. And it was at moments like this that Simon felt the need to ruffle her a little. Just to make her feel a little unsettled and discomposed as he did. Especially while she just stood there belligerent and unfazed at being alone with him on Trebarr land.
‘And you would do that, eh? Throw me off the edge and into the sea?’ He knew that she was goading him intentionally, but Elowen Bawden always managed to get under his skin whenever they met. Which was not just the handful of times the Trebarrs had been forced to endure the Bawdens’ company at formal banquets held for all local Cornish nobility. No, Simon had encountered the termagant whenever she trailed after her twin brother, Hedyn, and followed wherever he led, usually trespassing on Trebarr land, as she had today.
Yet, there was another time, one that was burnt into his memory, when Simon had watched in fascination as she came out of the sea after a swim and how it had managed to stir an unwanted emotion in his chest for a maid who always seemed to plague him, as she was wont of doing now.
‘Don’t tempt me.’ Simon knew that he’d used the wrong words the moment he’d said them. Indeed, he’d blundered badly as all sorts of temptations filled his head. And every one included the icy maiden standing in front of him.
‘I wouldn’t dream of doing anything that might tempt you, Trebarr. Not even to commit a misdeed such as that.’ She lifted her head, her brown eyes glittering with mirth.
‘You enjoy provoking me, Elowen,’ he whispered, taking another step towards her.
‘I admit that I do, Simon.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s just so easy to do.’
‘Well, why not save it for another?’ He lifted her chin up with his finger and thumb so that her eyes met his. ‘Such as the man you’ll soon be wed to.’
He took in her small gasp, her brows knitting in the middle, and smiled, knowing that he’d given her some of her own teasing provocation.
‘That is not your concern, Trebarr.’
‘No, it’s not but it might be for your intended. And you would not want to add any further concerns to a man who is so much older than your own father. Why, he could be your grandsire.’ He tapped his chin with his fingertips. ‘Tell me again, Elowen, but are his son and daughter not older than you as well?’
Somehow, she had managed to mask her annoyance as she raised a brow and gave him a disdainful glare. Her voice, however, was still as cool and indifferent as usual. As though they were discussing the weather. ‘I believe that that, too, is none of your concern, Trebarr.’
‘Always so composed. Always so aloof. I wonder if Philip of Hanford knows that he is soon to be wed to a young maiden known to possess such an icy heart.’
‘And what would you know of my heart or what I might possess?’ It was then that she pulled away. The flicker of anger that sparked in her eyes, which was just as quickly extinguished, made him wonder whether he’d imagined it all along.
‘I would never assume to know that, nor would I want to.’ He looked away in disgust. ‘But I do know that might be the reason you remind me so much of Morvoren, the sea maiden with the cold heart. Now go, Elowen. You don’t belong here.’
‘Devil take you, Simon!’ she said as she turned to leave, taking a step away from him. But Elowen Bawden took a wrong step, as the ground beneath her feet, unsteady and uneven, made her stumble backwards.
Her desperate scream went through him as he watched Elowen flapping her arms about her as she fell. Without another thought, Simon threw himself at her, able to grasp her before she plummeted down to her inevitable death. ‘I have you. Hush now, I have you.’
It was the first time that he’d held Elowen Bawden in his arms. Her shivering body folded into his; her scent, cool and distinctive, wrapped around him. Simon ran his fingers up and down her spine, trying to soothe her, nestling his face into that unusual silvery pale hair, inhaling deeply.
He had never been this close to her. He’d never touched her and nor would he be allowed to again. Not that he’d ever wanted to. Well, that wasn’t quite true but Simon needed to remind himself of who this maid was. And yet, it was Elowen Bawden who came to that realisation first.
‘You saved my life.’ She tilted her head back, a ghost of a smile hovering at her lips. ‘I admit that I cannot quite believe it.’
‘Can you not?’ His voice was low and raspy, even to his own ears. This close to Elowen Bawden, Simon was unable to think as he should, as he surely must, because he had the sudden urge to press his mouth to hers just so that he could taste her. His curiosity to know more about her was becoming a little overwhelming.
Elowen shook her head. ‘In truth, I had thought you’d welcome my demise and believed it to be a justified penance for such treasonous beliefs.’
‘You cannot believe such a thing. Not even of me,’ he muttered hoarsely.
Her lips curled into a soft smile. ‘Either way, I thank you.’
‘You are welcome.’
Instead of pulling away, they both stayed as they were, watching one another, curious and unyielding. In truth, Simon felt reluctant to let her go just then. What he actually wanted was to savour this moment, knowing it would never happen again. Elowen would never allow it. Besides, she was destined to marry another. And a good thing too.
But for now... For now, they had this moment...
His eyes dropped to her lips and he dipped his head down lower until there was little separating them. He noticed her lick her lips, the air around them stilling as though time had slowed, drowning out everything except for the beating of his heart.
‘Let. Go. Of my sister!’
Of course, it was at that precise moment that Elowen Bawden’s hot-tempered twin, Hedyn, had to come upon them. Simon would have laughed at his bad luck, had it not been for the realisation that the situation could get more unpleasant if he didn’t attempt to smooth things over. After all, had Simon a sister, he would have felt just as angry to discover her in the arms of a Bawden.
‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘Good morrow, Hedyn. I am glad that you’re here, for you can escort your sister home.’ Simon dropped his arms to his sides and took a step away from Elowen. ‘In truth, you have arrived just in time to do so.’
‘It seems that I have.’ The young man drew out his sword from its scabbard and pointed it at him. ‘But I should cut you from here to here for even laying your filthy hands on her.’
Simon held his hands in the air and moved cautiously towards him. ‘Come now, I do not want any trouble.’
‘Then you should have thought of that before you touched my sister.’ He spat. ‘You dare dishonour her in such a manner!’
‘Stop it, Hedyn. No such dishonour was made.’
‘You would take his side in it, Elowen? A Trebarr?’ he cried in outrage.
‘No, never. But I... I was about to fall off the edge of the cliff, and Simon Trebarr grabbed my hand and pulled me against him. That is all that you have seen here. Nothing more, I assure you.’
‘And yet I am not assured.’ Hedyn Bawden strode closer, his pale, almost white, hair the same shade as his sister’s. ‘For it does not in any manner explain why you would be alone with a Trebarr, Elowen.’
‘I... I was not.’
‘Why are you even here on this land with such a worthless nobody, Elowen? Why would I find you alone with this Trebarr filth?’
‘Enough!’ Simon roared. ‘Enough of your insults, and especially after the assistance I have given to your sister. Now, take her by the hand and go, Bawden. Go!’
‘Do not ever presume to command me.’
‘I shall do precisely what I like on Trebarr land. This is your final warning, Bawden. Go. Now.’
Elowen had the good sense to move towards her brother, taking him by the hand and attempting to pull him away from this situation that was rapidly becoming more and more fractious.
‘That’s right. Go, leave and never dare insult me again!’
Simon knew that he should not allow the Bawden heir to rouse his anger but unlike his sister, who intrigued him with her air of cool, calm detachment, Hedyn Bawden was a seething, angry coil of instability waiting to explode at any minute. And Simon would not put up with him casting aspersions on his family’s name and honour. It was unacceptable. The younger man was nothing more than a petulant fool, but a dangerous one at that.
‘Oh, I dare...’ The man sneered. ‘Because it is you insulting me, Trebarr, when you touched my sister!’
‘Stop it, Hedyn. Please.’
The younger man turned to face his sister, his features softening. ‘He was holding you, Elowen.’
‘If he hadn’t, I would have perished.’ She spoke so gently, resting her hand on his arm, evidently trying to soothe her brother’s torrent of rage bubbling under the surface, as one would an injured wild animal lashing out. ‘Can you see?’
‘Not him.’ Hedyn shook his head, his features contorted in anguish as he cupped her face. A wordless exchange passed between the twins, an understanding that only those with such close bonds as the pair in front of Simon obviously had. A secret language that only they shared. A silent war, a clash of beliefs. Because in truth, Hedyn Bawden must have sensed the truth of what would have happened had he not appeared when he had, despite what his sister was trying to tell him. That Simon would have kissed Elowen and she would likely have allowed it.
‘Let him not be the one,’ he pleaded with her. ‘He’s a Trebarr, Elowen. He should not even breathe the same air as you.’
But this was more than Simon could tolerate. He had just about enough of both of them in truth. ‘Ah, but it is Trebarr air that you breathe.’
It was a flippant nothing of a remark but in hindsight one that Simon should not have made, knowing the mood and temper Hedyn Bawden was in.
The younger man spun around and lifted the sword he’d been holding and pointed it straight at Simon, the tension once again mounting between them. ‘What did you say?’
‘I believe you heard, Bawden, but I shall repeat myself just so you manage to understand me. This air, the very air that you and especially Elowen are breathing, is Trebarr air. Ours, mine.’
‘You are nothing but an opportunist reprobate, like all your damn family. And what do you mean, especially Elowen?’
‘I believe that you know.’
Elowen turned to him and scowled. ‘Stop it, Simon!’
‘Simon, eh?’ Hedyn grimaced at his sister. ‘When did you begin such familiarity with a Trebarr? Calling him by his given name. And what the hell does he mean, that I should know? Know what, Elowen?’
‘Nothing, he means nothing. Please, let us just go back home.’
‘No, I want to know what he means.’
‘Listen to your sister, Bawden.’
But the man ignored both of them. ‘Are you insinuating that there is some attachment between you and Elowen? Or mayhap you were about to take advantage of my sister in this remote place? Either way, I cannot fathom why she would protect you.’
‘Because it is not true.’
‘I do not believe you, Trebarr!’
‘I care not what you believe, Bawden!’
Hedyn took a step towards him. ‘You are to keep away from her, do you understand?’ Hedyn barked, trying again to get a rise out of him. ‘Or would you prefer that I make you understand?’
Simon blew out frustrated air from his mouth and shook his head. ‘Just go. Go before you make yourself look even more ridiculous than you already do.’
‘Ridiculous? You believe that I am ridiculous for looking out for my sister’s honour?’ The anger he’d been holding on to finally snapped. Simon had to end this discourse before it grew out of hand.
‘You’re beginning to bore me, Bawden. And your sister’s honour is just as it was before you came to all sorts of ill-begotten conclusions. Now, go and leave me in peace.’ With that, Simon turned his back on the man, hoping that it would finally put an end to this nonsensical interlude.
He sadly had no such good fortune, for the moment his back was turned, Hedyn came lunging at him, his sister screaming for her brother to stop.
Simon would have agreed with Elowen but knew that the younger man was now beyond all sense and reason, seeing this whole exchange as a slight on him and his family. As always, making everything about the Bawden name.
Simon spun around, drawing out his sword from its scabbard, just in time to strike out a defensive move. He’d have had a blade stuck in his back had he not reacted so expediently. But naturally, Hedyn Bawden wasn’t done there as he came at Simon again and again, with even more spleen and aggression.
‘Hell’s teeth, Hedyn, enough! What is it that you want?’ Simon said through gritted teeth.
‘Your head on a silver trencher, Trebarr. But for now an apology would suffice.’
‘Let me understand this. You wish me to apologise? Very well, then,’ Simon muttered as he countered a defensive blow before stepping back and taking a deep bow that dripped with derision. ‘Lady Elowen, I humbly ask that you accept my apology for saving your life.’
‘You think this amusing?’ the man barked as he lunged at him again.
‘Somewhat, yes. But mostly I believe this to be ridiculous, as I stated before.’
‘You damn cur, Trebarr,’ the younger man roared as he lunged at him. ‘You craven whoreson!’
He countered more of the younger man’s strikes. ‘I’m getting tired of this, Bawden. And you really do have some sort of destructive streak here.’
‘Then fight me!’ the man screamed as he pushed forward, striking again and again. ‘Fight me as you would anyone.’
‘But then again, mayhap you need to address that temper of yours first!’
‘I said fight me!’
Elowen started forward. ‘Please, Hedyn. Enough of this. Before anyone gets hurt.’
‘That is actually the point, Elowen. To hurt someone, rather, to hurt Trebarr.’
‘You should listen to your sister. At least she has some modicum of sense. Unlike you!’
And to prove his point, Hedyn Bawden roared and exhaled hot air before coming at Simon again and again, striking his sword as hard and fast as he could. And while the younger man had an abundance of aggression and anger, he lacked the power and skill needed to cause any real damage. Even so, his intention was to cause a blistering blow and he had used any excuse to attack Simon, and on Trebarr land. That was not acceptable.
Enough... Simon had enough of the younger man’s stupidity and his unprovoked assault. If he wasn’t going to stop this nonsense, then he would have to stop the man himself. He spun on his heel and thrust his sword, lunging at Hedyn with as much force as he could muster. He brought his sword down in a punishing strike, making his opponent fall and stumble, throwing his sword out of his hand. Simon ate up the short distance and picked up Bawden’s sword.
‘I think that’s all the ridiculous display that I can stomach for one day, do you not think?’ He nodded at him. ‘If you would be kind enough to leave now, we can forget this whole sorry interlude ever happened.’
Hedyn stood, glaring at him, his nose flaring, his breathing laboured as his sister once again pulled at his hand, trying to shepherd him away. ‘Very well, with the return of my sword, we shall leave you in peace, Trebarr.’
God, anything for this all to end. Simon sighed and held Bawden’s sword vertically before pushing it down into the ground. It was then that he looked up and caught Elowen’s eyes, giving her a small, understanding smile. And it was then Hedyn caught the exchange, flicking his gaze from his sister to Simon, his ire evidently mounting more and more as he came up with all sorts of mistaken assumptions about the two of them again.
It all happened so quickly then.
Bawden’s snarl and roar; the force and pace at which he came at Simon, surprising and throwing him off balance; how they then rolled on the uneven ground, while Elowen pleaded an end to the fight; Hedyn attacking him and not realising how close to the edge of the cliff they’d got, as they fought to gain the upper hand; Simon managing to push him off and rolling away to get on his feet.
And then finally, what none of them had expected to happen, actually came to pass:
Hedyn Bawden losing his balance as he rose to stand and starting to flap his arms around in panic just as his sister had done only moments ago. This time, however, Simon was too late. This time he could not reach Bawden as he fell backwards, the shock and fear etched on the man’s face as he plummeted all the way down to land on the craggy rocks below.
It was horrifying to watch as though time had slowed to that singular moment of sheer horror. And then the aftermath.
That scream. Oh, God, Elowen’s piercing scream would haunt Simon until his dying days. He clamped his arms around the woman’s waist, preventing her from looking over the edge at the terrible sight below, as she howled, cried and screamed hysterically.
No... Simon might have an end to the pointless altercation with Hedyn Bawden, but he had never wanted his death. He had never wanted this...
He had never wanted everything to change irrevocably. But it had...
It had.
