“That was very good of him,” she said. “We were speaking earlier about men of good character. Your uncle has good character to take care of a bastard nephew he never knew about.”
“That is very true,” Ridge agreed. “My mother eventually married another man, a good man, but I kept the de Reyne name. My uncle asked me to and, of course, I did. He loved his brother a great deal and it is important to him that his son continue the lineage.”
Catherine could understand that. “You have spoken of your mother and father,” she said. “Then he is really your stepfather?”
“Aye,” he said. “But having no father, I always addressed him as my own and both of my parents died before they could have more children, so I suppose I was his only son in a way.”
Catherine digested the complicated family dynamics, but such things were hardly new. “But you must still earn your way in life?” she asked. “Did your stepfather leave you nothing?”
“Nothing but some coin. He had no property.”
“And your real father left you nothing?”
Ridge shook his head. “Everything went to my uncle, as it should,” he said. “Still, he has been very good to me. Everything that belonged to my father, he gave to me, including his money. Between my father and stepfather, I am certainly not destitute, and the de Reyne name was enough to get me into the finest homes. It even brought me a royal appointment with Henry.”
They had entered the encampment at this point, walking on the soft, mashed grass as torches lit up the night around them.
“But you left the king,” she said softly. “Wasn’t it a good position?”
“It was the best,” he said. “I did not leave him by choice. I was gifted to the King of Scotland as part of a treaty. I spent several years with Alexander before leaving his service.”
“He wasn’t kind to you?”
Ridge could see the yellow de Tuberville tents against the river, their destination nearly at hand, so he slowed his pace. He wasn’t ready to end the conversation yet.
“The king thought very highly of me,” he said. “I was his personal guard for many years, but there comes a time when a man must move on. It was simply time for me to move on.”
If Catherine thought there was more to it than that, she didn’t let on. She simply smiled at him in a manner that made his heart pound. “For such a decorated knight, is it not unusual for you to choose the tournament circuit to provide your living?” she asked. “You are only paid if you win, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Does that not make it an uncertain vocation?”
They were nearing the de Tuberville tents no matter how slowly he walked, almost into the designated area, and there were a few de Tuberville soldiers around eyeing the daughter of their liege curiously. They didn’t recognize Ridge, so they began to drift in her direction, perhaps to protect her from the unknown warrior. Seeing that, Ridge came to a halt.
“It makes it uncertain for some, but not for me,” he said. “You will see why tomorrow. The mass competition will take place and I will win the event. So by tomorrow night, I will be a very wealthy man.”
Facing him, Catherine fought off a grin. “You speak with such certainty.”
“You’ve never seen me fight before.”
“That is very true. I look forward to it.”
It seemed that their conversation was coming to a conclusion no matter how much Ridge was trying to stall it. He had yet to tell her about his conversation with Charles, but he found that he was slightly nervous about it. Although Catherine seemed to like him, that didn’t guarantee that she’d be receptive to his suit.
There was only one way to find out.
“As am I,” he said. “To be truthful, I was hoping you would give me a favor to carry. Something to bring me luck.”
She looked surprised. “Me?” she said. “You want something from me?”
“I was hoping you would be gracious enough.”
Catherine blinked as if startled, as if she had never imagined he would ever ask for something of hers, a little token to bring him luck. “As you wish,” she said hesitantly. “What… what should I give you?”
He grinned. “You are not opposed to the idea?”
“Not at all,” she assured him. “’Tis only that I’ve never given anyone a favor before. What do you usually receive?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I’ve not asked for a favor, not in any of the tournaments I’ve competed in, so the answer to your question is… nothing.”
That only served to deepen her shock. “Why not?” she asked. “You are a champion, my lord. You should command a favor from the most important lady at the tournaments you attend.”
He was enjoying her surprise. It made him feel a little giddy as she heaped praise upon him, an unusual state for him. “I will not deny that women have thrown things at me,” he said. “That happens all of the time. Veils, coins, even jewelry. It all ends up on the floor of the arena. I’ve never collected any of it. But I have never asked for a favor, as I am asking you. Will you give me something to bring me luck on the morrow?”
Catherine nodded before the second request was out of his mouth. “I will, gladly,” she said. “It is simply that I did not expect you would ask. Forgive me if I seem a bit muddled.”
He shook his head, his dark eyes glimmering warmly at her. “You do seem surprised,” he admitted, watching her snort with embarrassment. “That being the case, I am afraid to tell you what else I must tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because you might faint dead away.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “God’s Bones,” she muttered. “Then you’d better say it and get it over with.”
“Are you certain you can take it?”
“Nay, but tell me anyway.”
He started to laugh. “Very well, then,” he said. “Your brother, Charles, has given me permission to court you.”
All of the laughter stopped and the mirth drained out of her face. “C… court?” she said, swallowing hard. “Court me?”
“Do you need to be revived now?”
She stared at him for a moment before emitting something that sounded like a long, pent-up sigh. All of her breath left her body as she looked at him in astonishment.
“Probably,” she said, wide-eyed. “But… but I do not understand. How did this come about? Sweet Mary, he did not coerce you into it, did he? Did he threaten you somehow?”
Ridge couldn’t help it; he burst into soft laughter. “Nay, my lady,” he said. “Do you truly believe I could be coerced into anything?”
“Nay, but…”
He cut her off. “I asked permission and he gave it.”
If he’d thought her wide-eyed stare couldn’t get any wider, he would have been wrong. Her eyeballs nearly popped from their sockets.
“You asked?” she hissed. “You honestly and truly asked?”
“I did.”
“No one coerced you?”
“Never.”
“I… I do not know what to say.”
“Say that I have your permission, too.”
Catherine didn’t answer him right away. She swallowed hard again and took a deep breath, averting her gaze as she struggled to digest what he’d told her. After a few moments, she looked at him again and the open-mouth astonishment had turned into a smile. The most warm and beautiful of smiles.
“If that is what you truly want,” she said.
“It is.”
She shook her head slowly. “But we have only known each other such a very short time. How can you know that you wish to court me?”
Reaching out, he took the hand at her side, bringing it to his lips for a sweet kiss. “Sometimes you just know,” he said softly. “I cannot explain it, my lady. When I look at you, something within me changes. If you can do that to me after only knowing you a few hours, imagine what you can do to me after a few days, or a few months, or a few years even. However, if you are in any way uncertain, I will n
ot push you. I will be as patient as you wish me to be while you decide.”
Catherine watched him kiss her hand again, his hot breath against her flesh sending bolts of excitement through her body. She was overwhelmed and shocked, but she was also dazed and thrilled. More thrilled than she had ever been about anything in her life. She didn’t have experience to go on in a situation like this. She only had instinct.
And her instincts told her that he was true.
“I do not need time to decide,” she said after a moment. “Aye, you have my permission. But if we are to court, then you must address me as Catherine. And I will call you Ridge.”
His smile broadened. “I would be honored, Catherine,” he said. “And thank you. You have made me a happy man.”
“Have I?” she asked, smiling because he was. “I thought surely I would be the happier one between the two of us.”
“I do not think so,” he said. “And I am glad I never carried anyone else’s favor.”
“Why not?”
“Because it makes your favor that much sweeter,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. “What do you intend to give me?”
Catherine cocked her head thoughtfully. Then, she held up a finger to beg patience while she dashed off. Ridge watched her disappear into one of the tents, thinking that she must have gone to fetch a scarf or a scrap of fabric for him. Moments stretched into minutes as he waited, feeling the night grow damper and colder as the hour deepened. There was a hint of dew on the grass, on the tents. He could see a faint halo around the torches. But he continued to wait patiently until Catherine reappeared.
Ridge could see something in her hands.
“I will admit that I was a bit worried,” he said.
She looked up at him curiously. “What about?”
“I was hoping you weren’t going to bring me one of those dogs.”
She burst into soft laughter. “Nay, not one of them,” she said. “They are sleeping peacefully. And since you told me about Odin, I will tell you about Bando and Iris. I found them as tiny puppies that someone had abandoned and brought them home. I did not think they would survive the night, but they did. I know they can be holy terrors, but they are quite sweet to me and I love them. I am afraid that you are going to have to tolerate them if you court me.”
His dark, dusky eyes glimmered. “Not if I court you,” he said softly. “When. Now, what did you bring me?”
She lifted it up and he could see that it was a decent chunk of hair she’d cut, about seven inches in length, braided and tied at both ends with a piece of yellow ribbon.
The humor left his face.
“You cut your hair,” he said with soft incredulity. “You did not have to do that. A scrap of fabric would have been completely sufficient.”
She watched him lift the hair to his nose and inhale deeply. “Anyone can give a piece of fabric,” she said. “A scrap of ribbon, a few beads… they mean nothing. But this is part of me, or at least it was. I think it will mean more.”
“More, indeed,” he said sincerely. “I shall keep it with me, always. Thank you. But… where did you take it from?”
Her hair was long and unbound, down to her hips, and she flipped up one side to show him that she’d taken it from the back of her head. Given how long her hair was, it was barely noticeable and well-camouflaged.
“No one will ever see,” she said. “Mayhap it will bring you good fortune tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow and always,” he said, tucking it into the vest he was wearing. “Thank you, my lady. I shall treasure it always.”
Catherine smiled at him, drinking in his handsome face and delaying him when she knew he should probably return to the feast. That meant she would spend the rest of her evening alone, but she didn’t mind at all.
Something between them had been established that night and she was content.
“It has been a most memorable evening,” she finally said. “Thank you for escorting me back to our encampment but I must say that I am sorry that Renard de Luzie cut it short.”
He lifted his eyebrows in agreement. “You will be safe here,” he said. “I intend to return to the hall and speak to your mother immediately, but I will be back before you go to sleep. I want to make sure you are safely tucked in for the night.”
“You do not trust my brothers to do it?”
He snarled his lip, but it was good-natured. “I will trust no one but me,” he said. “But in my absence, I am sure they shall do an admirable job.”
She giggled. “They have been taking care of me for many years now,” she said. But soon, she sobered. “You never did answer my question, though.”
“What about?”
“Why is Renard de Luzie so terrible that I must be hidden from him?”
Ridge had hoped she’d forgotten about that question, but he could see that she was a sharp woman. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her the truth, at least not in great detail. There was no use in frightening her needlessly, but he also wanted to make his point clear.
She was to avoid de Luzie at all costs.
“He is a man without restraint or principles,” he said after a moment. “He competes for bloodlust, not for the love of competition. It is his goal to injure or maim men, not simply disable them. He has injured many a good knight and he’s badly injured more than a few. Some of them with missing eyes, useless limbs. I know of at least one knight who cannot walk any longer because de Luzie broke the man’s neck. He is not a man of good character, Catherine. If you see him, run to me. If I am not around, run to your brothers. If they are not around, hide. He only means you great harm.”
She looked at him seriously. “How terrible,” she said. “But thank you for telling me the truth. I shall remember it.”
“Good,” he said. “Now, I will return to the hall, but not until you go inside your tent and secure the flap. I will wait here until you do.”
Her smile was back. “As you wish.”
“I do. Go.”
He winked at her and she flushed, turning back for the tent that was behind the others, one he could just see the corner of. He made sure the de Tuberville soldiers guarding the encampment were aware she’d gone in so they could keep an eye on the tent. Now that she had agreed to let him court her, he felt terribly possessive and protective of her, but he didn’t want her to think he was a madman about it. He was going to have to leave her safety to her family’s soldiers for now.
And he didn’t like it one bit.
But he wasn’t going to dwell on it.
He had a mother to see.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I think your accusations are harmful. They are unkind.”
Renard was surprisingly calm in the face of what many men would consider great slander. The problem was that it was all true, so he couldn’t very well deny it.
But he was still going to try.
“Unkind?” Charles repeated, aghast. “De Luzie, you have crippled honorable men you were not worthy of. Your unscrupulous tactics have injured and maimed. I could go on, but I do not want to assault my mother’s delicate ears with more than she can bear. You asked me what my reservations about you were and now you have it. You are an underhanded brute and you will have nothing to do with my sister. Move on and find another lady to focus your attention on. There are plenty of them in the hall this night.”
Renard regained his seat in the face of three angry de Tuberville brothers. They wanted him to leave, but he wasn’t going to. He wasn’t going to take commands from any of them.
“There are many women to focus my attention on,” he agreed. “But your mother and I have been having a most interesting conversation. She is seeking a husband for your sister and I may be interested.”
Charles rolled his eyes, outraged, as Geoffrey spoke up. But instead of speaking to Renard, he spoke to his mother.
“You have spent your lifetime being cruel to Catherine, but if you let this… this bastard into her life, then it will be the ultimate act of cruelty
,” he said. “Do you not hear what Charles is saying? De Luzie is reviled from one end of England to the other. He is human rubbish.”
Blythe was listening to her sons and, to be truthful, she didn’t much like what she was hearing about Renard, who had managed to charm her somewhat until George showed up. After that, Charles and Geoffrey had quite a bit to say about it, and all of it was bad. But one thing Renard said stuck in her mind.
My father is a count.
A rich count, from what he’d said. The Comte de Gavere had a big fortress near Ghent and another one that Renard claimed to occupy near Grimsby in Lincolnshire. According to Renard, his father was extremely wealthy and the castle near Grimsby was enormous and lavish, with a good-sized army that Renard was in command of. He had wealth of his own, he professed, from his life on the tournament circuit, as well.
The son of a wealthy count, no matter how devious he was, had her attention.
“I will not discuss it with you, Geoffrey,” she said. “But your concern is noted.”
Geoffrey could see that she was going to be mulish about it. He knew his mother well enough to know that the woman thought she was on the scent of something, something big. He wasn’t sure what de Luzie had said to her, but it had clearly caught her attention. The biggest, toughest de Tuberville brother wasn’t going to let the conversation go any further, so he returned his attention to Renard.
“Let me tell you what you will get if you marry my sister,” he said, positioning himself so he was nearly blocking his mother’s view of Renard. “She is the youngest in the family, the only daughter with three older brothers. If my mother told you she is to inherit anything, she was lying. My mother has made sure that Catherine shall receive very little. The reason she is looking for a husband is because she wants my sister’s husband to supply all of the wealth that my mother will be able to draw from. Do you understand the situation? If you thought to find a wealthy bride, my mother is looking for a wealthy husband.”
The Black Storm (De Reyne Domination Book 4) Page 8