‘I would recommend, however, that you wait a fraction longer until you have the target directly in your sight.’
‘Duly noted.’
Will rubbed his jaw and tipped his head at him. ‘And bring the lance a little higher, in line with your ear. That way you can strike expediently in either direction.’
Ralph nodded. ‘Anything else?’
‘No, just keep up the practice, Ralph. I’m glad we’re finally making progress here.’ Will gave him a wry smile before turning on his heel. ‘And lest I forget, Isabel would like the presence of your company tonight, so I hope to see the two of you at the banquet later.’
‘My lord.’
Ralph was still perched on his mount with Tom beside the horse on foot, as they watched their patron’s retreating footsteps.
Tom finally spoke. ‘That went well.’
‘I still need to go over it a few more times, if you would be so obliging to set it up again.’
‘Certainly. Shall we try for an even smaller target this time? It might be interesting to see if you can rise to the challenge?’
‘Very well.’
Tom looked up at him and pulled his hood over his head as Ralph turned his horse, Fortis, around. ‘Don’t look now, but Lady Gwenllian has just noticed you from afar.’
Ralph turned Fortis again in the direction that Tom had motioned towards and his breath caught at the sight of Gwen with her companion beside her, stopping and staring at them from beyond the training area.
It seemed as though their gaze caught and fused together even though there was considerable distance between them. Even though the back of Ralph’s head and neck were encased within a padded coif and his whole face was covered by the metal helmet with only narrow slit openings for him to see through. It did not matter.
He saw her and his heart tripped over itself.
Ralph was meant to have felt much lighter, with his conscience eased after having disclosed to Gwen the fact that he was alive and back in England a few days ago.
He was supposed to feel relief from that revelation, so that he could move on with his life. Push her out of his mind, so that he could focus on what really mattered to him now—this.
Winning this tournament and somehow getting Kinnerton back.
He had to hone his skills so that he could pitch them against the best knights in England. And somehow prove that he was actually capable of becoming the Marcher Lord he was supposed to be. A Marcher Lord that many, including his father, had doubted he would be successful at.
Ralph had endured his father’s criticisms throughout his life, but these were compounded more so when his cousin had come to live with them. Everything changed when Stephen had arrived in Kinnerton. He had taken an instant dislike to Ralph and revelled in exposing his inadequacies to his father. All in the hope of gaining favour and presenting himself as a far better candidate as heir. And although Ralph bitterly knew his shortcomings, coming from his own father it had been painful. More so, since there had been few who had not shared that perception of Ralph.
God, but even Gwenllian had probably doubted his capabilities all those years ago. It certainly explained why she had not fled Kinnerton with him. And if he had been honest with himself, Ralph knew that they had been right to doubt him. Back then, he had none of the necessary skills to command respect—neither in physical ability, his presence or through any leadership qualities.
Now he did, however. Now Ralph could show them just what he was capable of...he hoped. Indeed, he hoped that he was fortuitous enough to put everything he had learnt into practice.
He let out a slow breath as he pondered on the beautiful woman who plagued his dreams.
His reunion with Gwen had not eased anything and he had not achieved any peace of mind. Their whole encounter had been difficult. Ralph had wanted to let her know that he was alive so that it would cease any further interest in him. Her curiosity had to be satisfied and now, hopefully, it was.
But then that did not mean it had lessened his curiosity about her life and everything that had happened after they parted six years ago. The truth was that Ralph had so many questions of his own about what she had done since then.
And his disclosures in the woods had certainly not gone as smoothly as he’d hoped. In his haste to only tell her what he wanted her to know, avoiding her difficult questions, Ralph had inadvertently offended Gwen.
God’s breath!
Although it might have not been his intention, it was probably for the best that she believed his indifference towards her. Ralph needed to cast aside those feelings which had resurfaced ever since he had set eyes on her. It would not do to rekindle any of them, however much he still desired Gwen, even after all this time. Even after the pain that she had caused him all those years ago.
Indeed, as long as they kept apart from one another, he would hope to eventually achieve some semblance of peace and equanimity regarding Gwen. Then everything would fall into place, as that last link from his past would also finally break and he could be the man he was always meant to be. The man she evidently hadn’t believed he could be.
He blinked and made a small inclination of his head, which she returned before turning on her heel and walking away, her veil flapping in the breeze.
Yes, it was imperative that he did not allow himself to be drawn into any sort of acquaintance or familiarity with Gwenllian ferch Hywel.
‘Come, let’s get on with this.’ Ralph scowled.
* * *
The day passed without further interruptions but Ralph was still distracted. And this was not made any easier now that he was under the same timber-framed roof as Gwen. He hadn’t wanted to come to the banquet this evening, knowing it best that he kept his distance from Gwenllian. It was the only way to stop this incessant curiosity about the woman.
Yet Ralph could not deny Isabel de Clancey’s company for the world, especially as she had only just arrived with her infant daughter to see her husband. Isabel was like a sister to him, whose warmth and interest in his well-being was as bewildering as it was humbling. He knew unequivocally that without Isabel’s help and support he would not be where he was today. Hell, he doubted whether he would even be alive.
‘I trust that everything is going as well as we had planned, Ralph?’ Isabel’s head was turned away from him as he moved forward to fetch the jug of ale while he performed his duties as a squire.
‘Not quite. Have you not spoken with Lord de Clancey, Isabel?’ he muttered as he poured some ale into her mug.
‘Yes, but I’d like to hear it from you, Ralph,’ she said quietly over the noisy clatter and din from the table.
‘There is really not much to say except that I was suffering from a bout of nerves that first day. But now, thank the saints, I feel that I’m settling in it.’
‘How are your scars?’
‘Fine.’
‘And your hand? Do you need more balm for it?’
‘That too, Isabel.’ He sighed. ‘And I have enough. Thank you.’
‘Good. And how is the training going?’
Ralph completed his duties before returning to hover behind his friends.
‘As well as can be expected,’ he muttered quietly.
‘I’m glad to hear that, Ralph.’ She sipped from her mug. ‘And no one has guessed the nature of the scheme or your true identity?’
‘No.’
Isabel titled her head away slightly as though she were talking to her husband. ‘Then why is that beautiful, young woman with fair hair, sat at the far end of the hall, constantly casting her gaze in this direction...looking, I believe, at you?’
‘I would not know,’ he said, stepping back in the shadows.
‘Oh, but, Ralph...’ Isabel’s voice sounded bemused ‘...you haven’t asked which beautiful young woman.’
Ralph had kept Gwenllian from
his friend, in an attempt to make that part of his past seem of little importance. Yet, he knew the way Isabel’s inquisitive, intelligent mind worked. And he also knew how she would then insist on knowing more, if not from him then others, including Gwen herself.
‘There’s something you’re not telling me here, Ralph,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘Such as the possible reason why the lady in question there is wearing your purple ribbon around her wrist?’
Hell’s teeth!
Ralph should have thrown that damn ribbon away and destroyed it rather than returning to Gwen. It had brought nothing but aggravation since he’d made that blunder that first day of the tournament.
‘Are you going to tell me?’
He closed his eyes, realising his mistake.
‘Ralph?’
‘Later,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Not here, Isabel.’
‘Very well.’ This time she did turn around as he inclined his head deferentially. ‘Be careful, Ralph. You cannot afford to risk everything you have worked hard for.’
No, that he could not do.
* * *
Gwen took a small bite from a soft bread roll that she’d dipped in meat juices before looking away. She knew she must be careful and that it would be prudent to stop looking in the direction of Lord de Clancey’s retinue. Especially at the squire, who was far too large, far too broad and far too much of a man to be one.
Gwen should have realised something had been amiss with Sir Thomas Lovent’s squire before. Deep down she had.
She stabbed the piece of meat on the trencher she was sharing with Brida with her knife.
‘Is everything well, Gwen?’ Her friend raised her eyebrow.
‘Of course, why should it not be?’
‘Because you have barely said a word since the evening in the woods.’
‘It was just the shock of well...everything. Nothing more.’
However, it was far more than that. Gwen would never have ever imagined that the same squire would actually turn out to be Ralph. And neither would she have envisioned the changes in Ralph to be so huge as to render him so unfamiliar. Yet strangely those physical changes made her feel a little breathless. They made her stomach flip over itself every time she caught a glimpse of him in his full armour, dissembling as Sir Thomas, or dressed as a squire. And yet, she had not actually seen him at all, since his head was always covered. In truth, she would never have believed any of it had he not explained it to her himself. Such as it was...
Yes, Ralph may have wanted Gwen to know that he was alive...and hale, but no more than that. He had not thought it necessary to even show his face, seemingly preferring to be hidden within the darkness that night as he was now.
‘Are you sure, Gwen?’ Brida looked at her with concern. ‘You do not quite seem to be yourself.’
‘I’m just a little tired, that is all.’ She felt the brittleness of her smile.
‘You know that you can always confide in me. I am here for you, my lady.’
‘I do know and I’m thankful for it, my friend. However, with everything that has happened I believe we need to bring forward our plans. We need to obtain the cattle we need for the journey ahead,’ she whispered behind her hand.
Gwen had not intended to begin her journey to the convent for another few days and certainly not until the tournament was properly underway. And yet, ever since she had discovered that Ralph was alive and presently at this tournament, she had been uneasy with her confused, muddled feelings for a man who wanted nothing to do with her. Not that she blamed him. Indeed, it would serve them far better if she left as soon as possible and never saw Ralph again.
Brida gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll see to it and make contact again with the groom and stable hand, who said that they would help.
‘Good.’ Gwen exhaled, feeling a little relieved.
‘And what of Sir Thomas’s “squire”? Do you think you shall see him again?’
‘No. There is really no reason to.’
Ralph had welcomed no further connection or claimed any sort of acquaintance with her. He had been perfectly clear in the woods where he had effectively informed her that beyond his revelation, he owed her nothing. As she owed nothing to him in return...including her gift of a hand-woven ribbon.
‘You need not concern yourself about me.’
If Gwen was honest with herself, that had stung. Ralph had not even asked about her...about her life since they had last seen each other. It was as though he no longer cared. And why would he? Not now, after all this time when he had far more important issues, such as succeeding at this tournament. That was what mattered to him, reclaiming Kinnerton, his lands and his title.
Well, she would honour Ralph’s wishes and not seek him out any further. She looked down at her wrist that she’d foolishly tied the purple ribbon around and sighed, knowing she would have to get rid of it.
If Ralph didn’t want it because it reminded him of a past that he’d rather forget, then neither did she. Gwen would do what Ralph should have done. She would throw it away in the hearth later. Then she would forget about him as he had asked her to.
After all, Gwen had important matters of her own to attend to, in carrying out her plans to escape to the convent sooner than originally planned, while heads were turned towards the spectacle of this tournament. She would use the distraction to put as much distance as she could between herself and Stephen Le Gros. Then and only then would she find peace and some measure of fulfilment, away from his avarice and ambition. An ambition that he made no secret of—to force Gwen into marriage, since he believed she belonged to him anyway. Her fingers absently touched the scar at the base of her neck.
Yes, she would keep Ralph’s secret as he’d asked. Indeed, she wished him every success in his endeavours, but there was nothing more that would tie them together—not even a woven purple ribbon.
With a hollow feeling in her stomach, she got to her feet. ‘I think I’ll retire to our quarters now,’ she muttered, but held her hand out, when her friend looked to follow her. ‘No, no. You stay and finish your meal, Brida.’
‘Allow me to accompany—’
‘I insist. Please do not worry, I’ll be perfectly safe. I just need a little time to myself.’
Gwen ambled outside before stepping into the keep and the cold, dank spiral staircase that would lead to their chamber. She absently noted that the guard who usually stood at the entrance was missing and reached for the torch from the metal sconce and frowned. The flame wavered, flickering in the night, giving her a prickly feeling that something or someone was nearby. She turned around, waving the torch in front of her several times in an attempt to see in the darkness.
‘Who goes there?’ she said, hoping her voice sounded more resolute than she actually felt.
Gwen could see no one, however. It was most probably a gust of wind since there wasn’t anyone in the stairways or the passageway below. She dragged her hand across her forehead, feeling the tension ease a little as she began to climb the stairs.
But Gwen had not been mistaken. She heard the soft footfall behind her and knew instantly that she was not alone... It was too late, however. She spun around just in time as Stephen le Gros took her by surprise, grabbing her and pinning her against the stone wall, holding both of her wrists above her far too tightly in one hand.
‘My Lady Gwenllian, how fortuitous for us to meet in such a quiet corner of this castle.’
‘How can it be fortuitous when you followed me?’ she said with quiet determination, not knowing how she’d managed to keep her voice even. Her heart was hammering in her chest, violently. ‘Let go of me, Stephen.’
He stood a step or two lower, yet he still managed to tower over her.
‘Not yet.’ He tilted his head and studied her as he caught a stray tendril from beneath her veil, twisting it around his finger. ‘Jus
t look at the extremes I have to go to just to snatch a moment with you, Gwen.’
She felt bile rise as he pressed his groin against hers.
‘Mmm, sweet as honey.’ His lips brushed her skin as he nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply as he held her tightly. ‘You won’t evade me any more, you know, once we are finally married, Gwen. God knows I’ve waited long enough for you.’
He could wait for all of eternity for all she cared...
‘After all this time, you still believe that I would willingly tie myself to you?’
‘Oh, but you will, my dear,’ he sneered. ‘After I triumph at this tournament, the Crown will be forced to accept me as Kinnerton’s rightful lord, especially since I have the backing of the Earl of Hereford. Naturally, you shall also be given to me, my sweet. Whether you’re willing or not is of no consequence.’
Oh, heavens, she felt faint!
‘I asked you to let me go, Stephen,’ she muttered slowly.
She could smell the wine on his breath as he smiled, his grey eyes crinkling in amusement. It was always like this with him, he revelled in the disgusting games he played.
Suddenly, the fine hairs on Gwen’s body rose, with the sudden chill sweeping through. She could feel another’s presence and knew instantly that someone else was also now in the passageway below. Gwen twisted her head around and saw a powerful-looking man, who looked remarkably familiar, even in the darkness.
Ralph?
He stood with his legs apart, his gloved hand clenched dangerously around something that looked remarkably like the hilt of some weapon. It flashed as he moved it beneath his cloak. He lifted his head, the wide hood of his cloak covering his head, edged in a pool of hollow darkness. She could make out the movement of his chest, rising and falling rapidly.
Oh, mother of Mary, she knew this could spiral into disaster, but when Ralph spoke, it belied his stance, that of a warrior ready for battle.
‘Apologies, my good lord and lady,’ he said in a deferential tone that might have belonged to a manservant. ‘I mean no harm by venturing here to these parts, but only to do my duty by my mistress who sent me in this direction.’
The Return of Her Lost Knight Page 6
