He was a large man and would probably take up a good portion of the mattress. But she could imagine waking to have his scent on her and their bedding. Would he hold her as he had when the altercation had happened in the gardens? With his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in, she’d felt a sense of security she’d not known before. Oddly, the closer she was to him, the more she desired to be nearer.
She threw back the covers, ready to start the day and get out of the room. It wasn’t that it was stuffy; she just wanted to get out to see if she would happen upon her knight today.
They had been given a large chamber since there were three of them staying in one room. Two beds flanked the window. They also had a fireplace that they hadn’t had to use and a small table and chairs where they could take their meal if they wished. Her brother’s room was much smaller, so since arriving, their entire group had gathered here instead a few times.
As Jennet’s feet hit the floor, Sybil spoke from the second bed. “She didn’t return again last night.”
“I do think they truly love each other. Let’s go out today and see if we can find you someone else to become infatuated with.”
Sybil moaned and rose. “It appears you have found someone. Are you sure it’s a good idea to give your affections to a man you hardly know?”
“How can you say that? He saved our lives, and besides, we’ve had some rather involved conversations.” She pulled the brush through her hair and tried to remember her friend was having her heart broken right now. Of course she would be a little jealous.
Sybil was fair of face and witty. Today at the jousts, Jennet would make it a point to find someone in attendance who might catch her friend’s eye.
“I’m sorry. My head hurts, and I think I shouldn’t have skipped the feast last night. Breaking my fast will help my mood.” Sybil threw her arms around her in a warm embrace, and Jennet couldn’t help but feel there was something bone-deep worrying her friend that she wasn’t sharing. Perhaps it was Sybil’s brother. She really did need to get out of the man’s house and have a little freedom to be herself.
“Sir Giric does appear to be infatuated with you.” Sybil pulled back.
“Do you think so?” Her cheeks warmed.
“He gazes upon you as a man who is smitten.” They started toward the door.
“Do you have the key? We need to lock the door.” Remembering Giric’s warning, she scanned the room.
“I’ll grab it,” Sybil said.
“Sir Giric discovered the man who attacked us was paid to do so. He said we need to be careful.” She shuddered as a fresh chill slid down her spine.
Sybil’s face paled, and she froze.
“Don’t worry. I think as long as we stick to the crowds and near the castle, we should be safe. He’s going to do some more investigating today.”
“Did he say what he learned?” Her friend’s voice shook.
“Not much, and the man seems to have fled, so I think we probably have nothing more to fear, but even so, be on guard.”
They made their way down the stairs for breakfast. Before they were done eating, Ada, Eddie, and Sybil’s brother, Lord Roger, had joined them.
As they finished, then rose, Lord Roger spoke. “Lady Jennet, would you please take a walk with me?” And although he’d asked nicely, his hand was already on her arm, guiding her in the direction he wanted.
She cringed inside. “Yes, that would be lovely.” She was referring to the fresh air and not the company.
His arms were muscled and stiff, and though he was an attractive man, he was measured and overbearing even when he wasn’t ordering people about. Neither spoke as they made their way out of the castle and headed toward the village.
While she’d been eager to catch of glimpse of her knight, she now hoped that he wouldn’t see her on Lord Roger’s arm. He held onto her as if they were more than acquaintances, which was odd given that he’d only treated her as his sister’s friend or a servant in the past.
She’d always felt beneath the earl’s notice.
“Are you enjoying the tourney?” She felt the need to break the silence.
“It is affording me the opportunity to make connections that were previously elusive.” His reply was formal and calculated.
“Have you met any men whom your sister might form a connection with?” Perhaps he would help her find a husband, although she wasn’t quite sure she trusted the earl’s judgment in the matter.
He seemed to stiffen even more, and for the first time, she noticed that though his clothing appeared as impeccable as always, his cheeks had filled in slightly, and a trace of wrinkles creased his brow.
“Ah, yes. There have been a few. I will make a match for her before we leave.”
She wanted to ask if he’d let Sybil choose her own husband, but she knew the answer. Everything the earl did was carefully calculated and contrived before he acted. Still, she had to try. “Will Sybil be given a chance to find someone of her liking?”
“Nonsense. Women cannot make these decisions. There are too many things to consider.”
Her body tensed, and her heart ached for her friend. She could only hope that whoever the earl chose would be kinder to Sybil than her brother was.
Lord Roger drew her into the bakery, and as she eyed the lemon cakes, he purchased two small plain ones without asking what she liked. He handed one to her as they walked out the door. She wanted to refuse the morsel because her belly was full, but she felt it might offend him, so she picked at it.
She followed his lead as he strolled back toward the castle, thankful that their arms were no longer linked.
“How is your father faring?” Concern colored his tone, and she thought there might be some compassion in his heart.
She supposed now that her father was nearing the end, and Eddie would be taking over, she could be more open. Besides, she was certain Lord Roger had heard the rumors, and he’d been to their estate too many times not to notice something was amiss. Thankfully, some of the times he’d visited were on her father’s good days. “He is not well. I’m afraid the healer is saying he will not be with us much longer.”
“I’m sorry.” He actually sounded sincere.
She nodded, and for the first time since arriving, she let her father’s state consume her. They’d had a long time to deal with his debilitation, but over the last month, he’d been more withdrawn and had begun sleeping most of the day away. The healer had said that he would probably last the month, that they had time to attend the tourney and return before he would pass.
“I will seek out your brother today. I believe it’s time you are wed, and I am in need of a wife.” She froze as he continued on. He stopped, and his scrutiny narrowed on her.
She must have heard him wrong. Her chest felt like the time she’d fallen from a tree and onto her back. She couldn’t breathe. Lord Roger gave her a brief, tight smile, then tugged her along.
No, no, no. Why would he even think they suited? Her heart stilled, and her belly churned. She didn’t want to offend him, but he was one of the last men she would choose.
Taking a deep breath, she composed herself before speaking. She had to let him know his pursuit was foolish, and she wasn’t interested. “I am being wooed by another, Lord Roger. I’m afraid he has quite stolen my heart.”
“Who is this other man?” He took her arm and led her toward the castle.
“He is a knight.” She was reluctant to give his name. They’d not made any formal declaration, though, despite the short time, she was confident he would offer for her.
“Has he compromised you?” There was an edge to his tone.
Her mouth fell open, and she found no words would pass her lips.
“Has he taken you to his bed?” he barked.
She snapped her mouth shut, then finding her voice, she drew her shoulders back and stood taller. “No. He is a man of honor.”
Lord Roger seemed to relax, but a ruthless gleam ignited in his eyes as if he were pla
nning some move on a chessboard, cold and calculating.
He didn’t speak, so she continued. “There are many eligible ladies here. I can help find someone who would be a more fitting match for you.”
His grip on her arm tightened. “Nonsense. We will address this when I speak with Edward.”
Her only solace was that her family had made a vow that they would all marry for love. Eddie would support her. Yet despite her confidence, a cold premonition spread down her spine and settled in her bones. She knew Eddie looked up to the earl, and Lord Roger was a man accustomed to being obeyed.
However, in this matter, he would not prevail.
The walk back to the castle was painfully awkward, with Lord Roger’s steely grip not releasing her until they were standing outside her door. It was unlocked, and he pushed his way in, towing her behind him. His gaze fell on her, icy and conniving. She shivered. And for a moment, fear seared her insides. Had he planned to get her alone and take advantage so that he could force her into a match?
“How was your walk?”
He froze when Ada’s voice came from farther in the chamber. She was standing at the dressing table.
“It’s a lovely day,” Jennet hedged, not wanting to express her concerns in front of Lord Roger.
“Where is Edward?” His question sliced through the air, and concern spread through her as she realized he was not taking her rejection well.
“He is with his squire, preparing to attend the jousts today.”
Roger finally let go of her arm. “Tell my sister to come see me when she returns,” he ordered, then turned and left the room without another word.
“What was that about? He’s usually stiff, but he seemed cross.” Ada’s mouth twisted with disgust.
“I’ll tell you later.” She wanted to wipe Lord Roger’s demands from her memory. She needed to know she would still have her freedom. “First, I have to know, did you talk to Eddie?”
“Yes, he said that of course, your husband is your choice.”
She let air fill her lungs, then gave a gleeful sigh. Relief that Ada had talked to Edward before Roger could overwhelmed her, and she barely restrained an urge to bounce up and down.
“He just wants to meet Sir Giric. He said he’d not hand his sister over to a Scot without judging the man’s merits first, but that he mostly trusted your judgment.” Ada laughed.
Ah, thank heavens. Now all she had to do was find her knight and make the introduction. Eddie would probably be as enamored with Sir Giric as she was.
Giric stood near a merchant’s tent that was set near the outskirts of the jousting field and kept his gaze glued to the two men arguing nearby. It appeared Edward Linton had made some enemies of his own, and this one was a powerful adversary—the Earl of Bruton. Giric recognized him as the man who had joined Edward yesterday morning in the village.
He moved closer, pretending to look at the wares as he listened to the heated words between the men.
“We have been friends for a long time. Do not ask this of me.” Edward Linton shook his head.
“There is no one better suited to the position.” The earl stood tall and glared down at Edward as if scolding him.
“No. It’s my father’s will, and I’ll not dispute him.” At the mention of his enemy, Giric’s hand clenched on the handle of the knife he was pretending to inspect.
“If your father was thinking clearly, he would change his mind,” the earl said.
Edward took a deep breath. “Roger, I would do almost anything for you, but this is not my choice.”
“Aye. You have every say.” The earl’s voice rose.
“My answer is no. I have been told she has already chosen.” Edward stood his ground, drawing his shoulders back and staring straight into the earl’s eyes.
“Then it will come to this. I challenge you on the jousting field.”
Giric heard Edward’s sharp intake of air. “Then I have no recourse but to accept.”
“You will soon find out that no one defies me.” The earl marched off, leaving Edward looking bewildered and lost.
Giric almost felt a pang of empathy for the man. He seemed to be torn between loyalties.
Setting down the knife and turning, he followed Edward’s movements as the man made his way toward the jousting field, but he didn’t stop there, instead heading toward the camp. Possibly to instruct his squire to ready his jousting equipment.
Giric didn’t follow for fear of being too obvious in his study. Besides, he had things to ponder on.
This was an unfortunate turn of events. What if the earl hurt the baron’s son before Giric could face him on the battlefield? He had no control of the joust, and their rivalry could damage his chances of getting to his true enemy. He would keep a close watch on both the men.
As he came up next to the viewing box, he saw her, the woman who had consumed his thoughts almost as much as his quest. Jennet was watching knights as they rode across the field, then turning and making comments to her friends. Her smile was warm and genuine, and he longed to taste her lips again. He was tempted to go to her now, but he tamped down the urge to take her hand. He had work to do.
To avoid temptation, he made his way to the opposite end of the stands, to a position where he could see the jousts but also put the temptation from his mind.
What felt like hours later, he watched as the Earl of Bruton and Edward Linton took the field. As they trotted past each other on the first pass, it was Edward who made a solid strike and broke his lance. The crowd cheered loudly.
It appeared to be a fairly even match, except that the earl had a scheming deliberation to his movements that chilled Giric’s bones. He’d seen men similar to him on the battlefield, ones who were in control of every situation, ones who seemed void of feelings inside.
On the second attempt, both men hit their marks and broke their lances. The blow was deafening, and the roar from the gathered crowd rang in his ears. Edward teetered in his saddle and was almost unseated when the earl’s lance slid down Edward’s armor and almost caught at his knee.
Giric shook his head. Although the blow was within regulations, he could tell the earl had purposely gone for Edward’s injured leg. He wanted to see all the Lintons account for the death of his father, but he would do it honorably. Bruton had no integrity.
The earl earned the point.
The third pass was the same, and this time when the earl’s lance caught Edward square then slid down toward his injured leg, he fell from his steed and landed with a thud. For a moment, fear, anger, and despair mixed together as Giric thought his chance for revenge might be gone, stolen at the hands of a pompous earl.
Men rushed out to help Edward to his feet, and he stood then bowed to the stands to indicate he was uninjured, but his limp was a little more pronounced as he left the field.
The Earl of Bruton was declared the winner.
Edward’s visor was removed. The earl strode up to him, and although Giric couldn’t hear the words that were exchanged, he could see the heat, then the defeat on his enemy’s son’s face. Edward shook his head, and then both men glanced at the stands.
Giric’s thoughts turned to what Edward’s challenger would demand as reward for his win. As long as he was able to meet Edward on the field during the melee, it wouldn’t matter.
Chapter 8
Jennet paced the chamber as the afternoon sun burst through the windows. The room was sticky and stale. Home at Cresthaven, this type of heat usually signaled a coming storm. She wanted to run back down to the camp where Eddie’s squire was probably helping him remove his armor, but she knew there was nothing she could do for him when he was amongst the men. Her brother would not want to show any weakness in front of them, so she’d gathered a distraught Ada and Sybil, and come here to wait for Eddie to return.
Her insides were still frozen from reliving the horror of her brother’s last fall from a horse and how long his recovery had taken. Why had he made such a foolish decision? She shoul
d have insisted that he not participate in these dangerous pursuits. But would he have listened? He was a grown man now, and she was not his mother.
The door swung in. Eddie stood in the doorway with what looked like a forced grin upon his face. If he was trying to convince them that he was unharmed, she wasn’t fooled.
“Are you injured?” Ada rushed to Eddie’s side as soon as he hobbled into the room.
He only shook his head as he limped across the small space and eased into a seat at the table. Pain was etched on his face in tight lines even as he smiled and tried to hide his suffering.
“I’m whole. It’s mostly my pride that’s taken the beating.”
Ada touched his cheek. “Here, take this.” She handed him her wine, and he took a couple of large gulps, then set the goblet on the table before pulling her in for a hug. And not for the first time, Jennet said a prayer of thanks that Eddie had her friend, who would love and care for him for the rest of their lives. She would be the best medicine for him.
When Ada backed away, Eddie was silent a moment, then he shook his head, likely still upset with his loss today. Jennet didn’t care about whether or not he’d won, just that he was unharmed.
His eyes met Jennet’s then darted away before he grumbled something inaudible and reached for the glass of wine. At the same time, Sybil reached for the platter of cheese and meats. She misjudged the distance and knocked into the tray, which hit the glass and spilled the red liquid.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll clean it up and get you another.” Sybil picked up a cup to replace the toppled one, filled it, and handed it to him.
“How’s your leg?” Jennet asked.
“Not too bad. It will just be sore for a few days.”
“What were you thinking? You know Roger’s reputation.” She wanted to shake Eddie for being so careless. He could have been truly hurt again.
He gave her a defeated look. She’d not seen him so distraught since the day they’d realized their father’s wits were gone. Something awful was bothering him, and it wasn’t his old injury or a new one. This went beyond physical.
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