by Alexa Aston
Looking out over the crowd, she didn’t spy any friendly faces. Nan braced herself. She had faced worse. She believed in her talent and knew, if given a chance, she would prove her worth to this crowd.
“I know it seems odd to find a woman in your training yard,” she said, her voice loud enough to carry so that each man could hear her clearly. “I will do my best to pass along the skills I have learned to help the soldiers of Leventhorpe. Lord Tristan has great faith in you and I look forward to our time together.”
“How about rutting together?” a voice called out from the far left. “I could show off my skills to you.”
Laughter filled the yard. The speaker grinned cheekily.
In one swift movement, Nan claimed her bow and nocked an arrow, sending it sailing in the soldier’s direction. It whizzed by his ear and he cried out. He lifted a hand and clapped it over the ear. Pulling it away, blood stained his fingers. His jaw fell open.
“You nicked me!” he cried, surprise evident in his voice.
Nan shot a series of six arrows in quick succession. They landed and formed a semicircle around his boots.
The soldier looked down at the arrows a hair’s breadth from his feet and back up at her in astonishment.
“Any more questions?” she called out.
Silence reigned as king.
“Good.” Nan glanced at Tristan. “I think we are ready to start, my lord.”
Chapter 13
Nan surveyed the archers as the group who had just fired at the earthen targets collected their arrows and the next set of men readied themselves for their turns. A week had passed since she had come to Thorpe Castle and the progress Tristan’s troops had made pleased her. After the incident that first day with the jeering soldier, the men had been very respectful toward her, even keen to learn what she had to teach them.
She hadn’t spent much time around Tristan since usually she worked in the butts while he remained in the training yard when he wasn’t working on the estate’s affairs. Nan had learned Tristan also served as the Leventhorpe’s steward. She found it hard to believe he carried such a heavy load of responsibility and believed it was because he found it difficult to have confidence in anyone. Her curiosity burned, wondering why he found it hard to trust. To love. To open up to others. His own sister seemed starved for his affection but he held her at arm’s length, only politely inquiring about her day at the evening meal. Nan doubted he truly listened to Gillian’s response, which only made the girl even more desperate for her brother’s attention. At least Gillian now had David in her life, hopefully for good. Nan believed them well suited for one another and didn’t foresee Tristan having any complaints against a union between the two. If he wanted his sister wed, he could find no better man than David Devereux to be her husband.
Seeing the first group of archers was now out of the way, she gave the orders in quick succession, telling the second set to ready themselves, nock, mark, draw, and finally loosen their arrows. She repeated the instructions until five arrows had been fired and inspected the targets to see where the arrows had landed and how accurate the archers had been.
“Diggin, you have done the best work today of those present. I commend you.”
The soldier grinned broadly and accepted a few slaps on the back from his comrades. He had been the one who mocked her that first day. Now, Diggin was her biggest supporter on the range, eager to listen to her advice and even helping others as he proved to be more competent than his fellow soldiers. Nan would make sure Tristan knew this. Hopefully, Diggin could be given more responsibility to reward his efforts.
“Collect your arrows,” she told the men. “That will be it for the day.” Pausing, she added, “I think we should hold an archery contest tomorrow, both with crossbows and bow and arrows. It’s time to see you put into practice what we’ve worked hard on this past week.”
The soldiers gathered up their equipment and left the butts, excitedly discussing tomorrow’s competition and ready to spread the word to the others. Seeing them leave, Nan wished again that Tristan could take on more men and wondered if lack of coin to pay them was an issue.
She returned to the keep and removed her clothes, washing with the water from a jug and placing her smock and cotehardie over her head. Smoothing them into place, she headed down to the great hall for the final meal of the day. Gillian already sat upon the dais and Nan joined her. She’d gotten to know the girl fairly well during their shared meals. Gillian proved to be kind and friendly and not nearly as shy as she had been when they’d first met at Shercastle. Nan hoped her influence was bringing the girl out of her shell.
Gillian greeted her warmly. “How did your training go today, Nan?”
“Exceedingly well. In fact, we’re holding an archery contest tomorrow morning. Mayhap you would enjoy attending it to see the men’s progress.”
“Will Sir David be there?” she asked eagerly.
“He could be,” Nan said, not bothering to hide her smile. “Would that please you?”
Gillian took her hand. That gesture alone touched Nan’s heart, knowing how withdrawn and undemonstrative the young noblewoman had been such a short time ago.
“Nan, I must tell you something. I have to tell someone and you are my closest friend.” Her eyes darted to the area where the soldiers sat and a smile lit her face. Nan assumed she had spied David.
“I hope to wed your cousin,” Gillian revealed. “I think . . . I believe . . . oh, I know that I am in love with him.”
Nan squeezed her hand. “That’s marvelous news, Gillian. Have you spoken to your brother about your feelings?”
Tristan had yet to arrive in the great hall, which led Nan to believe this was why Gillian spoke so openly about her feelings for David.
“Not yet. David urged me to wait until he has met with Tristan.” She sighed. “I cannot believe this has happened to me. I never thought it could. I didn’t know . . . I didn’t think . . . that love really existed. My parents . . . well, they were courteous toward one another, but I never saw any true affection expressed between them.”
“Most arranged marriages are that way,” Nan said. “But I will tell you now that you are marrying into a most romantic family, Gillian. Love matches abound.” She thought a moment. “This means you will come to live at Sandbourne. Oh, you will adore Elysande and Michael. They will love you like a daughter of their own. I’m so happy for you and David.”
“I only hope Tristan agrees to the match,” Gillian said. “I am nervous about that.”
“You are of an age to wed and, as your guardian, ’tis his responsibility to see you settled,” Nan assured her. “I am sure he will respond favorably to David’s petition.”
“Tristan told me the last time I left for Shercastle that it would be the end of my fostering days and that I would not be returning to Lady Magdalen’s care. He hinted that he would begin to look for a husband for me. Oh, Nan, it must be David. It must!”
Nan reflected on the day they departed from Shercastle. If Gillian had fostered with Lord Wymun and Lady Magdalen for years, she wondered why the girl had not been more emotional when she left the couple’s care. Quickly, Nan uttered a prayer of thanks to the Virgin for how very different her upbringing had been from the Theroldes. That made her think of where Tristan slept and she decided to work this into their conversation.
“You had mentioned your brothers on a previous occasion but not where they are. Have they become knights and serve on different estates? Will they be able to attend your nuptial mass?”
Tristan entered the great hall and came to the dais, inclining his head to them both. He took a seat and reached for the pewter cup before him.
Gillian turned her head away from him and faced Nan. The stricken look on her face and the tears welling in her eyes caused Nan’s throat to thicken with emotion, seeing her new friend’s distress.
“They are no longer with us,” she said, her voice quivering.
“They have all passed on?” Na
n gently inquired.
“Aye.”
Gillian took in a deep breath. “Will you excuse me? I am not feeling hungry tonight.” With that, Gillian hurried from the great hall.
Guilt oozed through Nan for upsetting the girl. She looked up as a servant began to set a trencher down in front of her. The girl seemed confused with Gillian having left.
Nan glanced to her right and saw Tristan, silent as always.
“Lord Tristan and I will share a trencher this evening,” she told the servant and then slipped into the seat beside him.
He nodded at her again and asked, “How do you think the training is going with my men?”
“I think very well,” she told him and decided to broach what had been on her mind. “Have you ever thought of adding more men to your barracks? With such a large estate, I’m sure you can be stretched thin at times when men are patrolling the roads and on duty at the wall walk.”
“If I could find more qualified soldiers, I would be more than happy to add them,” he confided. “But ’tis not always easy to find men who possess the necessary skills—and the loyalty required.”
“Mayhap my father could help,” Nan suggested. “Or Michael. Even my brothers. Ancel is Earl of Mauntell and Edward is Baron of Shallowheart. If each of them could spare a man—or even two—then that would give you a strong foundation to build upon. I promise you all of them would be well trained.”
Tristan looked stunned by her proposal. “I would never ask that of anyone, much less your family.” Color rose in his cheeks.
“But I can,” she said quickly. “Especially with Sir Stephen and Sir Toby gone, you have a great need to supplement the soldiers already in place.”
A stricken look flickered across his face before Tristan masked his features again.
“You knew both of them well, didn’t you?”
“Aye,” he said. “The three of us fostered together. We were as close as brothers. Stephen was a third son and Toby a fourth. They could have returned to their families but instead they came to Leventhorpe when I needed them most. In doing so, they earned my gratitude and appreciation for all they did. They were men I had faith in.”
“As you do Sir Dawkin?”
Tristan nodded. “He fostered here as a boy under my grandfather. Came when he was seven and has remained all these years. Dawkin is the only man at Leventhorpe who has my full confidence now.”
Sadness flooded Nan. “You’re so alone,” she said softly, her heart aching for him. She longed to reach out and take his hand to offer him comfort.
He sighed. “Sometimes, I feel the weight of the world crushing me.” Tristan excused himself and left the great hall, his meal untouched.
Nan wished she could find a way to help him. He seemed adrift, heading out to sea with no anchor—and no hope of ever finding one.
She finished her meal and watched as the handful of servants collected the remains and others pushed the trestle tables back against the walls. Strolling over to David, the two of them spoke of how quickly the week at Thorpe Castle had passed and that this time next week they would be leaving for Bexley. Nan also told him about tomorrow’s archery contest, which he had already heard about several times.
“The men are looking forward to it, Nan. I’ll make sure I’m there to assist. Drew, too.”
“That will make Gillian happy. She spoke to me tonight about wedding you,” she confided to her cousin.
“Aye, we know it’s what we want to do,” he confirmed. “I plan to speak to Lord Tristan soon and then I will take you to Ancel and Margery. I’ll return home and let Mother and Father know of our plans. Oddly enough, Gillian wishes to marry at Sandbourne. She says since it’s to be her home, she would like her new beginning with me to start there.”
“I can understand why,” Nan said. “She has few ties to this place. Did you know she had brothers other than Tristan and that they’ve all passed away?”
Surprised showed on David’s face. “Nay, she has never spoken of them. How many? Why? Was it illness that struck?”
“I don’t know. Speaking of them greatly upset her. I would not bring it up unless she does, David. She seemed very fragile.”
“I saw her leave the meal early. Is that why?”
“Aye.”
“I will go find her now. When she’s upset, she likes to walk. I will see you later, Nan. Thank you for telling me.”
Once David left, Drew motioned her over. Her friend had split his time at Leventhorpe between helping her in the butts and David in the stables and pasture.
“How about a game of chess? We haven’t played in a good while.”
“You miss losing, Drew?” Nan teased.
“We’ll see about that.”
They played two games, each winning one.
Drew yawned. “It’s getting late and I grow weary. That’s always when you take advantage of me,” he said. “Promise me we’ll play again tomorrow night.”
“Prepare to lose.”
“Oh, you will be challenged beyond your wildest dreams,” Drew promised.
Nan left the great hall and returned to the solar. It still seemed odd to be sleeping in it. She believed Gillian had done most of the cleaning herself since so few servants were visible. Nan had made a point of thanking Gillian and Tristan for her accommodations.
Looking around, she thought that someday Tristan would move into these rooms. Here, he would be surrounded by family and hopefully a wife who would finally make him happy.
Nan wished she could be that woman.
She had fought against her attraction to him. It had helped that they hadn’t spent much time around each other since her arrival at Leventhorpe. But sitting next to him tonight? All the strong feelings had returned in abundance. She realized she needed to leave Thorpe Castle soon before she couldn’t hide it anymore from him—or others.
Unplaiting her hair, she combed through it and left it loose as she did every night. Most women chose not to but Nan loved the feel of the silken locks surrounding her. She removed her cotehardie and left her smock on to sleep in. Drawing back the curtains from the bed, she slipped under the bedclothes.
Sleep failed to come.
Restlessly, she tossed and turned. Mayhap it was the upcoming contest that had her on edge. Or the idea of soon being with Ancel and Margery and their children. Then she finally admitted to herself that it was Earl of Leventhorpe that had her tied into knots. Why she was drawn to a man who was nothing like what she wanted bothered her. Nan hoped to find love, just as her parents and siblings had. She wished to wed a man who loved her as much as she loved him. One who was happy and open with his feelings.
The opposite of Tristan Therolde.
Throwing back the bedclothes in frustration, she decided to go to the kitchen and find something to eat. She had picked at her dinner after Tristan left. Once her empty belly was filled, she might be able to fall asleep.
Nan went to the door and opened it. She hesitated, wondering if she should put on her gypon and pants, and then decided at this late hour no one would be up. Besides, her smock covered her to her ankles. Only her bare feet showed and everyone at Thorpe Castle had seen them by now since she usually had her boots off the entire time she trained with the men.
A few flickering torches in the corridor lighted her way as she stealthily moved along. Then she stopped.
What was that?
A low moan from faraway sounded. Immediately, she thought someone was in pain and needed help. Though she was no healer like her mother or Alys, Nan knew enough to help someone who was sick. She listened again and determined where the groans came from and pushed open the door.
A lone candle burned near the bed in the small chamber. Nan hurried over and realized it was Tristan making the harsh noise. His body moved restlessly as he murmured something she couldn’t understand. Then he began flailing, his arms fighting the bedclothes as he continued to speak nonsense. She perched on the bed next to him and grabbed his wrists, easing his
arms down next to his head as she leaned over him, her hair spilling around him.
He awoke, wild-eyed, his hair damp, sweat glistening on his bare chest. She swallowed hard, seeing the magnificent expanse of muscle and fine dusting of tawny hair against it. She released his wrists and sat back up.
“You were having a nightmare,” Nan said. “I heard you from the hallway.”
He must have suffered something terrible in his past for it to haunt his dreams so. Her hand went to his shoulder and squeezed it encouragingly.
“It was nothing,” he said, his voice rough. “Go to bed.”
Nan hated to leave him. He might deny what had occurred while he slept but she knew he was a very troubled soul. Gently, her thumb rubbed his shoulder, wanting to reassure him that he would be all right.
“Please, Tristan, tell me what you dreamed of that upset you so.”
“I would never burden you with something so vile,” he declared. “Some things are best left unsaid.”
“I disagree. If you are troubled, I wish to help you. Speaking of it might—”
“No,” he said harshly. “It’s too gruesome to talk about. Talking of it would change nothing and only give it power over me. I refuse to be a slave to my past. It’s done, Nan. Buried. Leave me be.”
He looked so vulnerable in that moment, as the hurt and pain from whatever had occurred enveloped him. She wanted to help him. Comfort him. And then, from out of nowhere, Nan wished he would touch her. Kiss her again.
As if he read her mind, Tristan’s hand cupped her cheek, his palm hot against her face. His thumb brushed languidly against her bottom lip, sending a rush of desire racing through her. His other hand pushed into her hair and wound a lock around his fingers.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked softly.
Nan shook her head. “No one ever told me that.”
“Everyone should. Because you are.”
Their eyes locked. Nan couldn’t have looked away if she tried. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and made contact with his thumb. Tristan sucked in a quick breath, his eyes now smoldering with heat. He pulled his hands away.