Page 72 of A Knight’s Reward

Gisela waited, hardly daring to breathe, while her revelation settled between her and Dominic like dust blown off years of secrecy. He stood frozen, a myriad of expressions playing over his angular features, among them astonishment, disbelief, and… wariness.

“Ewan is my son,” he repeated, each word spoken with great care.

“He is.”

Dominic’s mouth flattened. “Are you certain?”

Part of her had expected such a question. “There is no doubt.”

“None at all?”

She shook her head, trying hard to quell the buried love threatening to spill over from her soul and run down her face in a deluge of tears. “You are the only man I lay with, Dominic. There was no other.” Because, Dominic, no matter what happens in the coming days, you are the only man I will ever love. You always will be.

He still looked wary. Anger glinted in his eyes. “In all the days we have been together, you never once mentioned this to me?”

She’d expected this question, too, and the painful guilt that followed. “To be honest, I was unsure… how to tell you.” Or, truth be told, how you would react to my disclosure.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I could not very well say at the table the other evening, ‘Guess what? Ewan is your child.’ Could I?”

Dominic laughed, but the sound held no mirth. “You could have found a moment to tell me.”

“I wanted to.” Misery tightened her voice. “I promised myself I would, but only when I could speak with you alone.”

“Ewan does not know?”

“Not yet.”

Dominic studied her a long moment, and she guessed he was mulling the truth of her words. “When did you realize you carried a child?” he asked.

Our child, her mind cried. Our son, Dominic. The proof of our love.

“I knew several sennights after you left.” She swallowed hard. “Oh, Dominic, how desperately I wanted to share my news with you. Not because I expected compensation of any kind,” she added quickly. “When I lay with you, I knew full well I might conceive. Yet, I vowed if I were gifted with your babe, I would care for it. Love it. Cherish it.” She hesitated, forcing herself to continue. “To know I would bear your daughter or son… ’Twas both exciting and very frightening. Even though we had said good-bye, and you had no doubt left for crusade, I journeyed to your father’s keep. I could not bear… not to.”

Memories of that difficult, painful visit whispered anew in her mind.

“Go on,” Dominic said.

“At first, the guards refused to heed me. They said you no longer lived there and ordered me away. When I begged them,”—she bit down on her lip—“they sent a messenger into the keep. Moments later, I was escorted into the great hall, where a woman greeted me. She said she was your stepmother.”

Dominic’s expression darkened. “A scheming bitch.”

Gisela recalled the young lady’s austere beauty and smug gaze. “She asked me what I wanted. When I told her I wished to contact you, she smiled. ‘You must be Gisela,’ she said. I was surprised, for I did not realize she knew of me… and then I… could not help myself. I burst into tears. After I confided in her,”—Gisela drew a shaky breath—“she said there was no way to send you a message. Even if there were, I should rid myself of your bastard and forget about you, because…”

Oh, how the remembered words hurt! Like daggers, each one.

“What, Gisela?”

“You never wished to see me again.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “God’s blood! Never did I say⁠—”

“If you returned from crusade, you would marry a lady of your own noble class. Not a common little whore like me.” A sob tore up from her.

“Gisela!” Anguish etched Dominic’s features. “I am sorry.”

“I left knowing our love had truly ended,” she said, trailing a hand over her belly. “That all I had left of you—of us—was our child. A babe I wanted very much.”