My Victorious Knight

by O'Donnell, Laurel

  He shook his head mentally. His father’s favorite was Osmont, had always been Osmont. Even though he wasn’t blood, Osmont was good enough. Better than Julian, or so his father had told him repeatedly. What did his father truly want? To distract him so Osmont could win?

  His gaze slid to the crowded stands, searching the colorfully dressed nobles for a beautiful woman with glorious curls of sunshine. She’s not there, he told himself, dismayed. He reached down to his belt, where he had tucked her favor. He rubbed his fingers across the soft fabric, thinking of her smooth skin.

  Storm nudged him with a gentle nicker.

  “I know she’s not there,” Julian answered, stroking the horse’s nose.

  “Then why do you keep looking?” a voice asked.

  Julian snapped his attention to where he’d heard the voice. Baldwin and Gilbert approached. He took a resigned breath and returned his stare to the jousters.

  “Do you see any flaw in Sir Edward?” Gilbert asked.

  “Possibly,” Julian admitted. Sir Edward was a great jouster, but there was something in the way he held his lance, bringing it down at the last moment, and then positioning it. He was talented, Julian would give him that. It was difficult to find a fault in his style, but instinct told him it was the way he held the lance. Julian tried to concentrate, but his gaze again slid to the stands. She isn’t there, he reminded himself.

  “You wouldn’t see it if there was a flaw in his style,” Baldwin grumbled from beside him. “You’re too distracted. How do you expect to win if all you do is look for her?”

  Julian didn’t bother responding. Nothing he could say would ease Baldwin’s concern, even though Julian was confident Ellie was not a distraction. Ellie. He should begin thinking of her as Lady Elora, Lord Edward’s sister. What a shock that had been! Why hadn’t she told him the truth? Maybe it had been the mystery that attracted him to her. Then, he thought of their kiss, recalling how soft her lips were and how velvety her skin was. He had kissed many women, but there was something innocent and enticing about Ellie. Something delicious he couldn’t push from his mind.

  “Sir Julian?”

  Turning a glance over his shoulder toward the greeting, Julian found his opponent, Sir Mace, standing across from Baldwin.

  “I wanted to congratulate you on your win.” He held out his arm.

  Julian grasped it just below the elbow. “Thank you.” Many knights had sought him out and offered congratulations. He overheard many others whisper, “beginners’ luck.” Julian couldn’t blame them for doubting him. They didn’t know his skill. They didn’t know how much he desired to be the victor and how hard he had worked for it. “You weren’t injured when the horse dragged you?”

  “Nay. I’ve had worse,” Mace said, brushing off the comment. “One time, I was unhorsed and hit my head so hard, I was unconscious for three days.” Mace rubbed his crown. “With the luck of our Lord, I was still able to joust when I woke.”

  “I remember that,” Julian admitted. He had seen the joust Mace was speaking of and remembered his concern about Mace’s unconsciousness. Jousting was a dangerous sport. Many knights died from injuries sustained in the crossing of lances. “This is my mentor, Sir Baldwin,” Julian introduced.

  Baldwin and Mace clasped arms. “You were lucky,” Baldwin offered. “I’ve heard tell of knights not recovering from head injuries.”

  Mace nodded, smiling. “Aye. I was lucky. Some say my hard head saved me.” He looked at Julian. “How long have you been competing in tourneys?”

  “This is my second one. My biggest one.”

  Baldwin glared at Mace shrewdly. “You’re friends with Sir Edward.”

  “Aye. We’re good friends. Grew up together.”

  As a hail of cheers rose from the spectators in the stands and around the field, Julian snapped his gaze to the joust. Edward’s opponent teetered in his saddle, clutching the pommel to stay on his horse. They had missed seeing the impact, but it must have been a solid hit.

  Mace grinned. “Edward is the best.”

  Julian half-shrugged, his gaze focusing on Edward. “The best are meant to be defeated.”

  Mace’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You think you can beat him?”

  “I’m certain I can.”

  Elora had not returned to the jousts again that day. Sarah informed her Julian had defeated another knight. Pride and warmth blossomed in her heart despite the fact that Edward told her she couldn’t see him again.

  Now she sat in the Great Hall, facing the double wooden doors during the evening meal. This feast was for castle guests only, but Edward was renowned enough to be welcomed and Mace attended under Edward’s invitation.

  Edward had introduced her to Sir William. He was younger than the others but first in line to his father’s lands and fortune. Her gaze swept over his features—a hawk-like nose, small lips. Nothing at all like Julian’s lips. Startled, she pushed the thought from her mind. Sir William’s small eyes stared at her as if waiting. Had he said something she missed?

  “Are you jousting in the tournament?” she quickly recovered.

  He pulled back, his lip curling and his nose wrinkling. “Never,” he said with distaste. “I find this entire affair repulsive.”

  Eyes wide in disbelief and teeth clenched, Elora glanced at Edward, who had taken a seat beside her. He was busy speaking to Mace.

  “My father insisted I attend. He said all the wealthiest women would be here,” Sir William explained.

  He sat at her side, showing more interest in the tumblers tossing bags in the air, and minstrels singing tunes, than the rowdy knights. She could not believe Edward would even consider this man with his lack of enthusiasm for the joust. His distaste for knights and jousting was in sharp contrast to her family’s interests. Edward must be desperate. Desperate to be rid of her. Desperate to move on with his life and find a family for himself. She felt an instant’s squeezing sadness. She wanted to bolt from the room, away from Sir William, away from her obligation, away from everything. Instead, she waited and hoped. Hoped? For what? She didn’t know, but her gaze focused on the wooden doors at the end of the long aisle.

  Many knights and nobles entered through those tall double doors and took seats at the tables. But none of them were Julian. She wished to get a glimpse of him, just one more look. Lord Yves’s would have invited him for winning his joust.

  The rhythmic twang of harp music played, and servants rushed to do the bidding of the guests. She felt the world was hurrying by, and soon it would be time to retire.

  Then, everything changed as Julian entered through the tall wooden doors. Time seemed to stop. The music fell away into soft tones. The laughter and talking around her faded. Everything seemed to slow.

  Julian turned his head, scanning the room. Even his movements were slow and poetic. The dark hair around his shoulders swayed as if in a soft breeze. And then he locked gazes with her.

  She gasped slightly. Tingles peppered her arms. It was just the two of them across the expanse. He started toward her, but a short man intercepted to speak with him. Julian cast a glance at the man before focusing on her.

  “Elora!”

  She blinked and found Edward staring at her with a furrowed brow. She was startled to realize she was standing. She desperately looked back at Julian, finding a small group of men surrounded him. The moment was lost. She slowly sank down into her seat, adjusting her skirts.

  Edward followed her gaze down the aisle.

  She couldn’t help looking for Julian. Her heart ached with longing. He was being led away to another table. Her stomach swirled in disappointment. She looked down at her metal plate and the venison and peacock. Although the food Lord Yves had prepared for his guests looked delicious, she wasn’t hungry.

  She listened patiently to Sir William as he droned on about how the chords of a dulcimer differed from that of a harp. When he had finished, she looked at him. “Do you find the basilard or dirk dagger more appealing?”

&n
bsp; He studied her with a raised brow for a moment before a frown slowly replaced it. “I have armed men for protection. What would I need a dagger for?”

  She knew in that instant he was not the man for her. Well, she had known long before, but his statement about daggers only solidified her opinion. As he started in on a critique of the ballad of Alan-a Dale, Elora looked away, hoping to find Julian again across the mass of guests. No matter how hard she searched, she couldn’t spot him from her seated position. People entered the room, servants scurried to attend the guests; jugglers weaved in and out of the standing visitors congregating in groups. Why was she looking for Julian so desperately? Perchance because Sir William was so boring. She wanted to dash to the door and escape, but she was very aware of Edward’s harsh scrutiny.

  She met Edward’s stare, her lips thin, her eyes shooting flames at him across Sir William’s uninterested, small eyes. Sir William barely noticed. He was too wrapped up in his tale.

  Edward shook his head. “Pardons, Sir William. My sister appears quite weary. Please accept my deepest apologies, but I must escort her to her room.”

  Relief lessened the tension in Elora’s shoulders.

  William looked at her, slightly startled. “Of course. Of course. I shall continue to enlighten you on the ballad of Alan-a Dale when I see you again.”

  Elora choked back a gag. “Yes. Next time.” She rose and took Edward’s offered arm. Together, they began down the main aisle. When they were well away from their table, and out of earshot of William, Elora leaned toward Edward. “You can’t fool me. I know you were as bored as I was.”

  “I’m sorry,” Edward whispered, grinning and nodding a greeting to another guest. “I had no idea. He came highly recommended.”

  “From whom?”

  Edward grimaced. “Mace.”

  Elora lifted an eyebrow. “I can’t see Mace sitting through one of William’s critiques of ballads.”

  “Nor can I.” Edward chuckled.

  “He must have been playing a prank on you. Or trying to punish me for giving my favor to Julian.”

  “I’m certain that must be it.”

  They exited the Great Hall and started down the stone corridor. Ensconced torches lit the way. “Please do not take your friend’s recommendations,” Elora pleaded.

  Edward chuckled softly. “I promise not to again.” He guided her into the spiral stairway leading to the guest chambers.

  Elora glanced at him. “How did the jousts go today? I’m certain you won each one.”

  “Of course.”

  Osmont rushed into the stairway after them, exclaiming, “He won them with ease! I also won.”

  “You did well, cousin,” Edward complimented.

  Elora peered over her shoulder at Osmont. He was always chasing after Edward, following him everywhere. “I’ve heard you have only lost to two knights in your entire jousting career. Sir Edward and Sir Julian.”

  Osmont ground his teeth. “I shall rectify my defeat to the second knight during this tournament.”

  “He’s already defeated multiple knights. He is doing quite well in this tourney. Are you certain you can beat him?”

  Osmont’s black mustache drooped even further as his lips turned down angrily. “The first time I faced him was simply luck. It shall not happen again.” He narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “You gave him your favor. Perhaps you can find a way to vanquish him.”

  “Me? I am a lady. I know nothing of the joust.”

  “You can ask him. Maybe he has an Achilles heel. A certain weak spot in his armor. A blind spot in his helm.”

  A flash of anger rose inside of Elora. She most certainly would not help Osmont defeat Julian! Only a coward would seek help to conquer his opponent. She lifted her chin. “Can you not find a weakness on your own? What do you need my help for?”

  In warning, Edward squeezed her hand that rested on his arm. “Lady Elora will not be seeing Sir Julian again. It is not appropriate for her.”

  Her shoulders sagged as pain cut through her chest. Her anger dissolved into sadness.

  “A shame,” Osmont murmured softly and ran a finger across his mustache contemplatively.

  “Did you want something?” Edward asked Osmont.

  “I’m heading to the campgrounds. Care to practice with me?”

  Edward nodded. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Osmont bowed slightly. “Lady Elora, always a pleasure.” He turned and walked away.

  Elora opened the door to her chambers to find a warm fire in the hearth. Edward entered behind her.

  “Why do you provoke him?”

  Shaking her head, she admitted, “I can’t help myself. He is pompous and arrogant and lazy. Imagine asking me to help him win a tournament! What type of knight does that?”

  “He is family, Ellie.”

  Elora bowed her head, tucking a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Yes. He was family, but that didn’t mean she had to like him. Edward would never ask for help to defeat an opponent.

  “Will you be in your room for the rest of the night?”

  Elora considered her answer carefully. Edward must have known she would never stay in her room for the entire night. She would die of boredom. And yet, if she told him that, he would insist someone accompany her. Finally, she sighed. “What would you like me to do?”

  He smiled. “Marry well.”

  She inhaled. “Then, I will have to leave my room to search out my beloved.”

  “He does not have to be your beloved. Only someone you can tolerate.”

  “Is that the type of woman you will be searching for when you wed? Or is that description reserved solely for my future husband?”

  Edward ignored her tone and kissed her cheek. “Keep an open mind, dearest.”

  “Always,” she granted.

  He moved to her door. “I shall send a guard to escort you in your search.”

  No! Not one of the guards. They would hover about like an annoying bee. She waved a hand. “No need. I’ll stay in my room. Sarah shall attend me.”

  He straightened. “Elora,” he warned.

  “I swear. I shall not leave my room to search out a future husband.”

  “Or for any other reason.”

  She tilted her head and crossed her arms. “Or for any other reason.”

  Edward nodded contently and departed.

  When the door closed, Elora sighed. She knew Edward didn’t mean for her to stay locked up in her chambers in such a glorious castle. But she still felt like a prisoner. She could pass the time by embroidering, or…

  She spun around, searching for something to do.

  …Her knives! She hadn’t taken them out since she arrived here.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  Elora rolled her eyes. She had told Edward she would not leave. What else did he want from her? She went to the door and opening it, said, “I swore I wouldn’t leave, Edward.” Her voice left her, and her mouth hung open.

  Julian stood in the doorway.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elora’s heart skipped a beat. “Julian,” she gasped. Sarah stood just behind him, a mischievous grin on her lips.

  “Pardons, my lady,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her. “I wanted to–”

  Elora looked down the hallway, first one way, then the other. The corridor was empty of everyone: no servants, no knights, no Edward. She glared at Sarah. “If Edward finds out—”

  “You can go to the gardens. I’ll stand guard. He was asking for you,” Sarah whispered. “Rather persistently.”

  “I don’t want to get you into any trouble, nor compromise you. I understand the etiquette for ladies,” Julian said.

  Elora looked at him. He had been asking for her. She melted; her stomach fluttered. She couldn’t be angry with Sarah, not for bringing Julian to her. She began to grin, but then remembered her responsibility. Her growing grin quickly turned into a scowl, and she cleared her throat. Now was her chance. She could explain to Juli
an that she could no longer see him. That it was impossible for the two of them… She inhaled, ready to force the distasteful words from her mouth.

  He stood beneath an ensconced torch; warm, flickering light washed over his brown hair, bathing him in a golden glow. Her breath caught. He gazed at her for a long moment, sending delightful tremors through her. She swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. What was wrong with her? She cleared her throat again.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you. I just…” He stared at her again.

  The intensity of his inviting blue eyes liquified her entire being, sending wonderful, warm goosebumps up and down her arms.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  A breathlessness swept through her. She blushed from head to toe, heat suffusing her cheeks. “Thank you,” she murmured shyly, unable to meet his gaze.

  “To the gardens,” Sarah whispered in exasperation, motioning them to follow.

  The gardens. What a splendid place to be with Julian! She mentally shook herself. Yes. The gardens. It was a perfect spot to explain that she could not see him any longer. Edward would understand her leaving the room if that was the reason. Finally, she nodded, stepped out of her chambers into the corridor, and closed the door behind her.

  Julian offered her his arm.

  Elora couldn’t resist touching him. She laid her hand against his arm. It was warm, and the sinews of his muscles relaxed beneath his tunic. Despite the anticipation and excitement sweeping through her at being close to him, she knew it was wrong. Edward had told her not to see him again. And yet… it was as if Edward had asked her not to breathe.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were well,” Julian explained. “I didn’t know you were Sir Edward’s sister, and I put you in a precarious position when I asked for your favor. It was not my intention.”

  Elora grinned. He was protecting her again. “Edward was not pleased.” They moved down the corridor, following Sarah.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She looked up at him, lingering on his intense blue eyes. The rich smell of outside on a pleasant night reached her. His scent. She inhaled deeply. Her shoulder brushed against his arm as they walked. Warm. Solid. Strong.