My Noble Knight

by Laurel O'Donnell

Richard smiled. “An opportunity like this? I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, that was part of the reason I wanted to host the tournament.” He leaned closer to Griffin, glancing quickly over his shoulder at Jacquelyn. “They can’t stop me then.”

  Griffin looked back at Jacquelyn who wore a scowl of displeasure on her brow. “You’ve offered a large purse. These men are good. And you are out of practice.”

  Richard reared back in surprise. “You could never beat me!”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Richard agreed. “Champion of every tourney you’ve entered this year. Impressive.”

  And it was. Griffin had developed his skill over years of discipline and practice. He studied his opponents, watched and practiced. Practiced until his muscles burned with fatigue. Richard was used to a different life. His muscles were soft from leisure, his skills nowhere near as strong.

  “I wonder if you could beat me now.”

  Griffin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I hope we will have an opportunity to find out.”

  Richard cocked a grin and slapped him on the back. “Come. Meet my friend, Prince Edward.”

  “Griffin!”

  Griffin turned. A young woman moved across the room toward him, skirting nobles in finery and slipping past other knights in her way. Her brown eyes were bright with eagerness, even as she managed to look down her nose at him. She stopped just before him, a grin tugging the corners of her lips. Her gaze swept him and then she offered her hand to him.

  Griffin bowed slightly and took her hand, pressing a genuine kiss to her knuckles. When he straightened, he smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Gwen.”

  “And you,” she agreed. “I suppose you have dragged poor Carlton all through the lands in your attempt at fame.”

  “Carlton is my squire. Dragging is not really what I have done.”

  Gwen waved her hand dismissingly, lifting her chin. “Never mind. The least you could have done was send word of your victories. Instead, we had to find out from Sir Ethan.”

  “Ethan?” Griffin scowled and glanced at Richard.

  Richard nodded. “Farindale stopped by the castle months ago. He was on his way to Norfolk.”

  Gwen nodded. “He told us all about your victories in the tourneys. For shame on not sending word.”

  Griffin briefly wondered why Ethan had stopped at his home. True, they were good friends once, but had not been close in years. “I would have sent word after I win this tournament.”

  Richard eyes gleamed with excitement. “A boast!”

  “A promise.”

  “Father is quite irritated with you,” Gwen continued. “You know how angry he was when you left.”

  Griffin nodded. He remembered how red his father’s face was, he remembered how he called his name again and again. That was another reason he had not sent word. He didn’t want his father to know which tourneys he was entering. The last thing he needed was Father intercepting him at a tournament, demanding he return home.

  “Just as he seemed to be missing you –”

  “Missing me?” Griffin echoed, the thought ludicrous.

  “Sir Ethan showed up and regaled us with news of your incredible wins. Really, Griffin. Didn’t it cross your mind that your family might want to see you compete in the tourneys?”

  “Knowing how much you love jousting, dear sister, it never crossed my mind.”

  Gwen lifted her chin. “I would have set aside my contempt for it to support you.”

  Griffin’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. That was something he thought never to hear from her lips. “That’s gracious, sister.”

  Gwen nodded. “You have no idea.”

  A noble dressed in a purple velvet jupon with embroidered gold on his sleeves, greeted Richard, pulling him away from the group. Jacquelyn took his place at Griffin’s other side.

  Griffin looked back at Gwen as she leaned closer to him. “You’d better face Father before he confronts you in front of everyone. He’s in the solar and was alone when I left him.”

  Before Griffin could ask about her statement, she had turned and took Jacquelyn’s arm, leading her away. Perhaps that was his clue to escape. “Gwen!” he called.

  She paused and looked at Griffin, tilting her head to the side.

  “Your dress is lovely,” he said sincerely. He knew he would never hear the end of it if he didn’t comment on her dress.

  She beamed him a radiant smile, curtseyed slightly so she could spread out the beautiful silken material, and continued into the Great Hall with Jacquelyn.

  Griffin hurried out of the room and paused.

  Father. He stared at the spiral staircase at the end of the stone corridor. Laughter erupted from behind him. A young man brushed past him into the Great Hall, carrying a pitcher of ale. Trepidation filled him. The last time he had faced his father, he had left immediately afterwards. They had spoken harsh words to each other. While Richard and his betrayal had hurt, it had not been the reason he had left. His father had been the real reason. Not even Jacquelyn marrying Richard could have caused him to flee like he had. He couldn’t avoid his father forever. Perhaps he had changed his mind. Perhaps his words would not be so angry.

  Griffin straightened his back and headed for the stairs.

  Perhaps they would be. But he was a different man now. And he was not running any longer.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Griffin stood before the wooden door for a long moment. Finally, he lifted his hand and knocked.

  It was only a moment before the door opened. A small boy stood there, gazing at him with a thin-lipped glare. “M’lord is resting.”

  “He’ll see me,” Griffin told the young lad.

  The boy peered up at him through narrowed eyes. “An’ ya are…?”

  “Griffin.”

  The boy’s mouth fell in a silent gasp and he threw open the door, allowing Griffin entrance.

  Griffin entered the dark room. Rich curtains covered the large windows; a low fire in the hearth kept the room warm. Masterfully woven tapestries adorned the walls. A thick rug of fur covered nearly the entire floor. The king, Prince Edward’s father, was a friend of his father’s. He was sure that was why he had been given use of such an opulent room.

  Griffin swung his head toward a cough that came from the bed.

  His father was seated in the large, elaborate bed, staring at the closed window. “Open that window, boy. Let some fresh air in! I can barely breathe.”

  The young boy scampered across the room and pulled at the curtains on the window.

  Light splashed across the room, washing across the floor and then the bed and finally his father.

  Griffin remained stoic. He tried not to show emotion. His father was not the man he remembered. He looked frail and old, his face gaunt and pale. He locked eyes with Griffin. “Ah. My boy.”

  “Hello, Father,” Griffin greeted.

  “Come closer, boy. Sit with me.”

  Griffin moved up to the bed and sat on the side. The scent of decay and death permeated the air near his father.

  A cheer rose from outside and his father swung his gaze to the window. “Prince Edward allowed me to have this room because it is close to the field of honor. I’ll be able to watch…” He looked back at Griffin, his gaze sweeping his face. “You’ve done well for yourself.”

  Griffin nodded. “Yes, Father.”

  His father leaned closer. “It doesn’t change anything.”

  His father’s words sent a tremor through Griffin. His teeth grit instinctively. “I’m sorry, Father, but it does.”

  “You are still under my rule, son. You will do as I say.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you. I never did.”

  “Then do what I say. It’s in the best interest –”

  Griffin felt the old rage rise in his heart. “For who? You?”

  “For everyone! Richard is a dolt! He is going through the treasury faster than his mother!”

  �
�Don’t talk about my mother like that,” Griffin said quietly. He wasn’t certain his father heard him.

  “What will become of Gwen?” His father began coughing and his words trailed off.

  Gwen. Griffin would see to it that Gwen was taken care of.

  His father grabbed his arm. His grip was weak. “Griffin. Richard does not have the sense you have.”

  “You made your choice, Father.”

  “I was wrong. I want you to be my heir. I want the lands to fall to you.”

  “No!” Griffin stood, breaking free of the tentacle that was his father’s hand. “Richard is eldest. It is his birth right. He is heir.”

  His father inhaled a shaky breath and nodded. “I see how it is. Now that you’re independent of us, you think you don’t need your family.”

  Griffin straightened under the accusation. “Gwen will be taken care of. I will see to it. Richard and Jacquelyn will have to live off the wealth of the land.”

  “Wealth of the land?” His father began coughing again. He doubled over. The young boy rushed to aid his father, but his father pushed the boy away. “That slut makes Richard buy her perfumes from France!” His father sat back in the bed with a sigh. “You are lucky to have escaped her.”

  “Father, Richard is a capable leader.”

  “Richard gives her whatever she wants!”

  “With all due respect, it is not your say anymore. You handed control of the lands to Richard. I will not argue his legitimacy.”

  “Traitor!” his father spat. “Coward.”

  The same words that had drove him away before. He stood. “I came to see you again, Father. I don’t want to argue.”

  “Then do as I say!”

  Griffin turned and walked to the door. The door was open a crack and he thought he saw someone shift from the entrance.

  A candlestick landed with a thud on the floor beside the door.

  Griffin looked back at his father who was reaching for the next object to throw at him from a nearby table, screaming, “Coward!” His hand closed around a book.

  Griffin quickly ducked out to see Jacquelyn hurrying down the corridor.

  “Do you see them?” Colin asked, his gaze searching the crowded field. Spectators hung over the fence. Villagers brought blankets to sit upon to watch the joust from the surrounding fields.

  Layne tried to ignore the stares and pointed fingers. She looked around the crowded field, looking for Frances and Michael. Instead, her eyes caught someone else. Across the field, she spotted Griffin. He was a good head taller than the others around him. She barely noticed them, her gaze settling firmly on him. He was directly across from her, walking along the other side of the fence. His step was confident and sure, his gait full of reined power and fluidity that set a longing to flame inside her chest. When he looked up from the person he had been speaking with in her direction, she tore her gaze from him. “I don’t see them.”

  Colin scowled. “They’re here somewhere.” He pushed himself from the fence and moved on. “Come on.”

  Layne walked beside him, casting a sideways glance toward Griffin. He walked with several other people, a woman on either side of him, a man before him. The four of them were striking in their elegant clothing and highborn walk. They had the air of nobility without making an effort. Her heart sank and she looked at the ground, consciously straightening her shoulders.

  Again, she cast a sideways gaze at him, as if craving the sight of him. He was looking in her direction and she quickly looked away. She knew he would never forgive her for leaving him and taking Ethan’s loan. How could she ever be good enough for him? Just look at the women he was with!

  Again, she slid her gaze toward him. She couldn’t help looking at him. He was marvelous to behold. He bent his head slightly to talk to one of the women. His complete concentration was on her. And she was beautiful. Layne’s heart fell. Her long blonde hair was expertly folded beneath the golden veil she wore over her head; both her hair and the veil shimmered softly in the sun, as if calling everyone’s attention to her. Her nose was delicate and her features fair. Her gown was elaborate and beautiful and worth more than Layne could dream about.

  Layne’s gaze dropped to the ground. They were from two worlds that didn’t belong together. Dust puffed up around her scuffed boots with each step. She couldn’t compete with someone like that. Now she understood what he had meant when he said he couldn’t present her to his family. Sadness settled around her heart like the dust around her boots.

  Griffin spotted Layne immediately. She walked along the opposite side of the field of honor from him and his family. He had come to see the jousts. And apparently, so had Layne and her brother.

  “It’s a beautiful day, is it not Griffin?”

  He looked down at Jacquelyn. She smiled at him, her blue eyes dazzling. But he recalled other eyes that were more dazzling, more sincere and warm. “Yes,” he replied. His gaze shifted to Layne again. She was looking down at her feet. Something twisted in his chest. He had humiliated her. He had hurt her. He should apologize to her. But knowing she had made her decision of accepting Farindale’s loan only made him realize she didn’t want to be with him. She didn’t need his apology, nor would she even want it.

  He sighed and turned back to see Richard moving toward the berfrois, the sheltered dais that had been built for the tournament. Richard would be seated there, of course. He was host of the tournament. Gwen and Jacquelyn would be seated there, also. Prince Edward and all of his court would be there, also.

  Griffin looked over his shoulder at Layne. She and Colin were taking seats on the lawn surrounding the field of honor with her other brothers. That was where he belonged. That was where he wanted to be.

  Gwen stopped beside him and followed his stare. “Who is she?” she wondered.

  Griffin didn’t take his gaze from Layne. For a moment, he hesitated. What could he tell her? That Layne unhorsed him? Never. That she was under his protection for a fleeting moment? No. “Someone I thought I knew,” he finally replied and turned away. “But I was wrong.”

  Richard leapt up the two stairs to the raised dais platform and greeted Prince Edward with a humble bow.

  Prince Edward smiled. “Beautiful day for a tournament!”

  Richard agreed with a nod. “May I present Sir Griffin Wolfe, my brother.”

  Griffin bowed. “Your Royal Highness.”

  “Ah!” Prince Edward called. “Finally. I was fearful I would never get to meet you. Reigning champion and all.”

  “Thank you, Sire.”

  “We shall talk later,” Edward said. “I have a tournament to open.”

  Griffin bowed again and moved to stand beside Gwen who had taken one of the seats near Richard.

  Edward held up his hands and the crowd quieted. “Lords and Ladies, villagers and merchants, knights and gentry! Welcome all to the Woodstock tourney. Here, feats of strength and bravery will abound. Knights shall joust to prove their skill. And the victor shall receive a purse unmatched in this year’s tournaments. Let the jousting commence!”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Layne’s gaze continued to return to Griffin where he stood at the side of the wooden shelter, watching the knights joust. She was getting nothing out of the preliminary jousts. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the competitors, her gaze continually returned to Griffin on the dais. The winds lifted the ends of his hair gently as if desiring a touch. He leaned in to speak to the beautiful blonde as if she were the center of his world. Her stomach rolled. Her heart twisted. She stood, feigning illness, and walked back toward the tent. She hadn’t realized how much she liked to be with him, how much she admired him, how much she should have cherished her time with him.

  When she emerged from the long stalks of grass into the clearing, she spotted Griffin’s white tent near the edge of the forest, just around the bend from their tent. She faltered and then stopped. She glanced over her shoulder. Griffin was at the joust. Maybe Carlton was there.


  She headed toward the tent. It had been her home for a while. And Carlton had been like a brother. She grunted softly. Like she needed another brother!

  She walked up to the tent, noticing that Adonis was not there. “Carlton?” she called. She lifted the flap of the tent to check inside, but Carlton wasn’t there. She ducked back outside and paused for a moment. She was about to continue to her tent when she spotted Griffin’s weapons. His jousting pole and sword were set out at the side of the tent. Wasn’t he worried? Wasn’t he concerned about the saboteur? The weapons were all out in the open. Almost like…

  Tingles shot up her spine and she looked around. There was no one there. No one she could see watching. But that didn’t mean someone wasn’t there.

  She looked back at the weapons, glancing down at his lance. It was if they were set out like a trap.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She whirled, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger she now wore tucked into the back of her breeches. It was out in a flash, pointed at –

  “Griffin,” she sighed. Somehow his appearance, his rugged handsomeness, always caught her off guard and left her breathless. Those sparkling blue eyes left her defenseless. She straightened, lowering the dagger. “What are you doing here?”

  “This is my tent,” he answered. “I ask you again, what are you doing here?”

  The cold hard tone in his voice sent any happiness at seeing him fleeing. She tucked the dagger in her breeches behind her back. “I was looking for Carlton.”

  “You could have seen Carlton was not near my weapons. What do you want with those?”

  She scowled. She didn’t like his implication. “If you must know, I was thinking about your sabotaged lance. I thought it strange that no one was watching your weapons.”

  “You think the saboteur will try again?”

  She looked at him in disbelief. “Of course. Don’t you?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think.” His gaze swept her. “Only what the saboteur thinks.”

  Layne shook her head, disgusted. “You think I sabotaged you?”

  “You want your brother to win.”