Pippa could tell her father was really angry with her brother since he was back to calling him Franklin again instead of Frank. “I’ll talk to him,” offered Pippa. “Just please don’t joust against Étienne.”
“Did you call him Étienne?” asked Lady Martha, cocking her head. “You speak his name without his title of Lord or calling him Brother? My, that seems very informal and only a thing that intimate lovers would do.”
“Philippa!” growled the baron. “Please don’t tell me that you and that monk have done anything disrespectful together.”
“Father! How can you even think something like that about either of us?”
“Him . . . nay,” answered her father. “But you, young lady . . . it wouldn’t surprise me at all.”
“I heard you have made Wilbur your squire-in-training,” said Philippa, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why him and not your own son?”
“Franklin is only ten. He is too young to be a squire,” answered her father. “Besides,” he looked at Lady Martha and smiled. “I did it at the request of my lovely, newly betrothed.”
“Betrothed?” Philippa’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t marry her, Father!”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” growled her father. “Now, get out of my way. I have a joust to attend.”
Chapter 13
When Pippa saw Étienne already at the practice field dressed in armor and mounting his horse, she knew she had to put an end to this before he was hurt.
“Marie, stay here. I am going to go talk to Étienne.”
“Aye, my lady.”
Pippa ran through the crowd, dodging horses and men along the way. When she got to Étienne, she realized Franklin was there as well. His eye was blackened and he had a scrape on his face.
“Franklin!” she said, wanting to pull him into her embrace and hug him to her chest. But she didn’t. Étienne would only say the fight was her fault since she always coddled her brother. “I heard you gave Wilbur a black eye,” she said instead.
“You did?” Étienne looked down from the horse and smiled. “Good job,” he told the boy with a nod. “Perhaps you won’t need as much training in defending yourself as I thought.”
“Étienne, I beg you, do not joust against my father,” Pippa pleaded with him.
“I have to,” he answered. “The gauntlet has been thrown down before me and I can’t ignore it.”
“I just talked to my father. He is betrothed to Lady Martha.”
“Nay!” Franklin cried out. “I don’t like her. I don’t want her as my stepmother.”
“Neither do I,” agreed Pippa. Then no longer able to hold herself back, she said to her brother, “Let me see that nasty scratch, you poor thing.” She reached out to hug him and to tend to his scrape, but Étienne cleared his throat stopping her in midmotion.
“My squire-in-training is needed with me on the practice field to hand me my lances,” Étienne told her.
She dropped her hands, knowing she couldn’t embarrass her brother in front of all these people. She supposed Franklin had something to prove to Wilbur as well as her father and she didn’t want to get in his way.
“You won’t change your mind about this?” she asked, looking up at Étienne.
“Non, ma chère, I won’t. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I have never backed out of a challenge. I need to do this.” He looked down to Franklin. “Not for myself, but for the boy.”
“Then be careful, Étienne,” she said, feigning a smile. “I don’t want to have to tend to the wounds of both of you.”
“Don’t worry, my lady,” he said, lowering his visor. “My wounds are not physical.”
With that, he headed to the practice field with Franklin running behind the horse.
Pippa turned and went to take her seat in the lists, wondering what Étienne meant by his last comment.
Étienne took the lance from Franklin who was so short and thin that he could barely lift the pole. Turmoil rushed through him because he didn’t know what to do. The blood pushed through his veins and his heartbeat resounded like a drum in his ears. This is what Étienne always wanted. Sitting atop the horse with the lance in one hand and his shield in the other, he felt like a true knight for the very first time.
Perhaps the fact that the baron had challenged him made him feel leery. Back home, he had been treated by his own father and brothers just as poorly as Franklin was treated by the baron and Wilbur. One part of him wanted to do this to prove to himself and the others that he had what it took to be a knight. Then, on the other hand, he didn’t want to be disrespectful by winning and making the baron look like a fool. If only he had made it known beforehand that he was no longer training to be a monk, then perhaps this would be easier. Then again, perhaps it would be just as hard.
The straight trumpet sounded and the herald dropped the flag. Étienne kicked his heels into the sides of his horse and charged forward, letting his lance lead the way. He felt powerful and strong today as the wind whipped against his visor and the smell of horse, earth and straw filled his nostrils. It felt good and he couldn’t deny it.
But then, right before he met with the baron, he saw Pippa standing at the rail. He instantly started doubting himself, wondering again if this was the right thing to do. In that moment of hesitation, the baron’s lance crashed against his chest, knocking the wind out of him and almost unseating him from his horse. Splinters of wood from his opponent’s lance shot up in the air around him.
“Three points to Baron Willoughby,” shouted the announcer. The herald made a mark on a board.
“Lord Étienne, what happened?” asked Franklin, running to his side as he came back to the starting line. “You didn’t even try to hit my father.”
“I hesitated,” he admitted. “I was distracted.”
“I thought you told me never to get distracted because it might get me killed.”
“I did say that, Frank. Thank you for reminding me.”
Once again, Étienne charged forward and, this time, his lance shattered against the baron’s shield. They were tied, and it all came down to one last pass.
When he returned to the starting line to get a new lance, Pippa was also there to greet him.
“You can do it, Étienne,” she told him. “You will make the best jousting monk that Alkborough Priory has ever had. Be proud of your skills, even if you will never be able to use them again after today.” She reached up and took a ribbon from her hair and tied it to the end of his lance before Franklin lifted it up to him. “That is for good luck,” she said with a smile.
Étienne took the lance, seeing the lady’s favor dangling from the tip. He couldn’t do this. This was all wrong. He didn’t want her believing things about him that weren’t true. He should have told her the truth, but now it was too late.
The horn sounded, and Étienne looked down from his horse and said to Pippa what he should have told her long ago. “I’ve left the monastery and am no longer going to be a monk.”
“You did?” Her hazel eyes opened wide in surprise. She brushed back a blond curl of hair from her face, squinting in the bright light, surveying him.
“Go!” shouted Franklin, slapping the horse on the hindquarters. Étienne turned around and charged forward for his last pass.
Étienne knew he could beat the baron. He felt it in his blood that he could. Pride and confidence grew within him and he wanted nothing more at this moment than to win the joust. But at the last minute, he decided it wasn’t the right thing to do. He lowered his lance, realizing it would be better for all involved if he did not put the baron in such a position.
His withdrawal was too late. The baron’s lance came toward him, hitting him square in the chest and knocking him from his horse. Étienne flipped backwards over the horse, landing hard upon the ground. His head banged against the frozen earth and, for a moment, he saw naught but bright light behind his closed lids. The thundering of the horses’ hooves against the earth rev
erberated in his ears. Then a calmness washed over him and he saw a vision of his father walking toward him through the fog.
“Father,” he said, not understanding where either of them were. “What are you doing here?”
“I am sorry,” said the man. “I never should have treated you so poorly. I had doubts that you were my child and that is the reason I didn’t favor you the way I did your brothers. But now, your mother has confirmed that I sired you and I know the truth.” He held out his hand and a woman walked out of the mist and they smiled at each other.
“Mother?” asked Étienne, not understanding how he could see her if she was dead.
“Go back, Étienne. It is not your time yet,” the woman told him.
“Go back?” he asked, starting to realize that he was no longer on earth.
“Don’t let Philippa marry your brother,” commanded his father. “You should marry her instead. After all, you two are in love.”
Before Étienne could ponder this notion further, he heard a woman screaming and felt someone’s hands upon him, shaking him, rattling his brain so loud that it made his head ache.
“Étienne, please don’t die,” came Pippa’s voice.
Someone pulled off his helm, making him realize the rattling wasn’t his brain after all. Fresh, cold air hit him in the face and made him gasp for breath.
“Étienne, are you all right?” asked Brother Paul.
Étienne opened his eyes, his vision so blurred he couldn’t recognize anyone.
“By the rood, I didn’t mean to kill the monk,” said the baron. “Why on earth did he lower his lance at the last minute? By then it was too late for me to change my course of action.”
Étienne’s eyelids flickered and, finally, his vision came into focus. A crowd of people stood over him, looking down.
“I – I’m all – right,” he managed to say although every part of his body hurt. When he fell from the horse, he must have hit his head because it felt as if it were splitting open.
“Get him inside quickly and someone call for the healer, anon,” commanded the baron.
Just before Étienne’s eyes closed again, he saw Pippa leaning over him, crying. She reached out and touched his cheek gently, like a lover. He reached up and covered her hand with his, bringing it to his mouth to kiss it. Then she was pulled away from him as several knights came forward to lift him and carry him to the keep.
Étienne’s eyes closed once again and, this time, he felt that the turmoil in his mind that had haunted him his entire life was gone.
Chapter 14
“Father, I am very worried about Étienne.” Pippa paced back and forth in the great hall the next morning after the first meal. “I stayed at his bedside for most of the night but he still hasn’t awakened. Brother Paul said it might take some time, but I fear for the worst.”
“He’s just a monk,” spat Lady Martha, standing at the baron’s side. “Don’t be so concerned.”
“Aye, what do we care what happens to him?” added Wilbur, sitting with his feet up on the table, leaning back on a chair.
“He’s my friend,” cried Franklin, overhearing them as he walked up to join the conversation.
“It figures you would have a friend who can’t even stay mounted on his horse and gets scared and pulls back at the last minute in a joust,” said Wilbur with a chuckle.
“At least I have friends.” Franklin headed over to Wilbur, swiping out with his arm to push Wilbur’s feet off the table. Wilbur fell back on the ground with a crash. Jumping up, Wilbur lunged for Franklin, but the boy was fast and stepped out of the way, causing Wilbur to fall to the ground a second time.
“What’s going on here?”
Pippa turned around to see Étienne standing there with his arm in a sling. Brother Paul was with him.
“Étienne!” Pippa’s heart soared. She wanted to run to him and throw herself into his arms, but couldn’t. Her father was standing right there and wouldn’t like that.
“Étienne, you didn’t die!” Franklin rushed over to greet him. Étienne reached out with his good arm and pulled the boy to him in a half-hug.
“Lord Étienne,” said the baron. “It is good to see you back amongst the living. I am sorry for what happened but, by the time I realized you withdrew, it was too late.”
“I understand, my lord. There are no apologies needed.”
“Why did you withdraw?” asked Pippa. “You were both tied and I swore you were going to win.”
“Really, Philippa?” asked her father. “You thought a monk could beat me in a joust?”
“About that,” said Étienne, clearing his throat. “I told your daughter just before the joust, but I wanted to announce to everyone that I am no longer in training to be a monk.”
“You’re not?” asked Franklin.
“Nay,” he answered. “I decided to withdraw from being a novice and continue my training to be a knight instead.”
Pippa was thrilled to hear that this was really true since she wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly at the joust. However, her happiness didn’t last more than a few seconds.
“De Beynac, you have been making a fool out of me,” snapped the baron. “I allowed you to spend time with my daughter so you could convince her not to give me trouble with her silly gatherings and dances and so she’d marry your brother. I never would have let you near her if I had known you weren’t really a monk.”
“You were trying to talk me out of hosting my dances and talk me into marrying your brother?” asked Pippa in shock. She could hardly believe her ears. This announcement made her feel like a fool as well and severely betrayed.
“Wait a minute,” said Étienne, holding up his hand, but no one gave him the chance to talk.
“He’s an imposter and a bad influence on Franklin,” said Lady Martha. “He convinced the boy to hit my son!”
“I didn’t even know he did that,” protested Étienne.
“Your St. Valentine’s Day dance will be canceled,” the baron told Pippa.
“Father! You can’t do that,” cried Pippa. “The dance is tomorrow and it is too late to send more missives to all those who I’ve invited.”
“Then let them come,” said the baron as if in challenge, raising his chin proudly in the air. “They will not be arriving here for the dance, however. Instead, they will be here to help celebrate our wedding.” He looked over to Martha and smiled.
“Father, what are you saying?” Pippa felt her world crashing down around her.
“We’ve decided not to wait. We will be married tomorrow, on St. Valentine’s Day instead,” gloated Martha, making Pippa’s stomach turn in disgust.
“De Beynac, you need to leave Grimsthorpe Castle and do not bother to return. No one makes a fool out of me.” The baron turned to go.
Brother Paul stepped forward. “My lord, it would be best if Lord Étienne didn’t travel until we are sure his injuries won’t cause him to pass out again.”
“Then so be it,” spat the baron. “But as soon as he is healed, he will be required to leave my sight.”
“My lord, I assure you I was a novice when I first came here,” said Étienne. “I only recently decided not to pursue that path. I never intentionally did anything to deceive you.”
“And what about me?” Pippa asked him. “You kissed me and made me think you cared for me, when you were only trying to control me by orders of my father.”
“You kissed her?” The baron was not happy to hear this.
“Oui, Monsieur, but Pippa that is not exactly the truth,” Étienne tried to explain.
“Then you deny making that deal with my father?” asked Pippa, knowing if he said yes it would be a lie.
Étienne’s eyes shot over to the baron and then back to her. “Non, ma chère, I cannot deny it. But it isn’t what you think.”
Pippa no longer cared what happened to her, she had to stand up to her father. “I will have the gathering, Father, but it will be a St. Valentine’s Day dance, n
ot a celebration of your wedding. I will never accept Lady Martha as your wife, nor Wilbur as my stepbrother.”
Gasps were heard from the crowd in the great hall at hearing Pippa talk to the baron in such a disrespectful manner. Feeling like she was about to cry, Pippa picked up her skirts and ran from the great hall, not wanting to see Étienne or her father ever again.
Chapter 15
“What are you doing?” Brother Paul asked as Étienne threw his clothes into his trunk.
“I’m leaving,” answered Étienne.
“Why? You heard the baron say you can stay until we are sure you are healed.”
“It doesn’t matter. Neither the baron, Pippa, nor anyone else wants me here, so I won’t stay. Besides, when I fell, I had a vision that my father is dead. I need to return to France at once and find out if it is true.”
“You are using that as an excuse not to face your troubles?” Brother Paul scowled at him. “You have no proof your father is dead. Don’t leave here because of a vision. Lady Philippa needs you now more than ever before.”
“There is nothing more I can do.” Étienne closed the trunk and locked it. “I have made a mess of everyone’s lives because of my decisions. If I leave, it would be the best for everyone involved.”
“Étienne, think of what you are saying. You can’t mean it.”
“I do.”
“What will happen to Franklin if you go? And when the baron marries Lady Martha and Wilbur is proclaimed his heir, how is Lady Philippa going to live with that?”
“It is none of my concern.”
Brother Paul let out a frustrated puff of air from his mouth. “Fine. Then leave,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I guess I was wrong in thinking that you cared for Lady Philippa.”
“You are not wrong. I care for her more than any woman I have ever known. That is why I am leaving. She wants to marry for love, but I feel no love from her now that she knows the truth about me.” Étienne headed to the door.
“Why did you really withdraw from the joust?” asked the monk, causing him to stop in his tracks.
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