A Midsummer Knight's Kiss. Elisabeth Hobbes

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      As she prepared for bed, Rowenna’s thoughts kept returning to the way her heart had leapt as Robbie mentioned marriage. She could be happy with him.

      Most of the times when she had imagined the grand knight whom she would marry to prove she was a lady, he had borne Robbie’s face. Now they were reunited she could not shake the image from her mind. The disappointment had been over Robbie, not envy for his opportunities.

      She sighed deeply as she unlaced the ribbon of her bodice, causing Lisbet to give her a strange look. She slipped into bed, wriggling down between the twins, and closed her eyes.

      The way Robbie had spoken about Mary sounded more like infatuation than true love. He barely knew Mary and would be slow to muster the courage to speak to her. Meanwhile Rowenna would contrive to spend as much time with him as she could. Robbie’s affection might kindle into a hotter flame than the one that burned for Mary. And if it didn’t, then as she had told him, there would be men aplenty to win her heart.