“I did not mean it the way it sounded,” she said, though it was a lie. That was exactly what she’d meant. “I simply meant that it would be good for her to find a suitor by the time we leave and mayhap we will all be invited to his home to meet his family. That is all I meant.”
Catherine was used to her mother’s barbs, but that one had hit her rather hard, mostly because she was enjoying her evening and had little patience with the woman’s venom.
She didn’t want a rare lovely evening spoiled.
“Believe me, Blythe,” she said. “No one wants to be away from you more than I do, so I greatly echo your sentiment. I hope I do not have to return home to Keswick, either, because you will be there.”
Short tempers and harsh words were nothing new between them, something that usually deteriorated into shouting. To circumvent that, Catherine stood up, feeling tears sting her eyes as she tried to move away, but Charles reached out to grasp her before she could get away from the table.
“Come with me,” he said, eyeing their mother unhappily. “Let us have a turn around the room and see all of the houses while Mother sits alone and wallows in her miserable life. I think she prefers it.”
Catherine didn’t say anything. She simply walked away from the table with Charles on her arm and she was glad for him. Her supportive, beloved brother whom she would be lost without. They were heading over towards a table with all manner of delicacies set upon it, including two big marzipan subtleties in the shape of Durham Castle, complete with little standards flying from the towers, and Charles distracted her by commenting on the skilled design.
Off to their left, their social butterfly brother, George, was now speaking with the knights of Northwood, who were listening to the drunk young knight with some amusement. Charles and Catherine paused, watching him with concern, wondering if they should break it up before George shamed the entire family. He’d been known to do that when he’d had too much to drink. But George caught sight of them before they could make a decision and he frantically waved him over.
“Charles!” he shouted. “Charlie, come and meet these great men!”
Charles looked at Catherine, rolling his eyes as she giggled, and dutifully went to his brother, who happily gripped him around the neck.
“My good lords,” he said. “This is my brother, Charles de Tuberville. He will be Lord Thornewaite, the liege of Keswick Castle, upon the death of our father, and the lass on his arm is our sister, Lady Catherine. She is looking for a husband, by the way.”
The knights of Northwood snorted as Charles slapped a hand over his face at his brother’s crass comment and Catherine lashed out a foot to kick George squarely in the shin. As George doubled over, Charles tried to salvage the situation.
“My lords, it is an honor to meet you,” he said. “And please do not judge the entire family by my ridiculous brother. He has had too much to drink, unfortunately, and his social skills seemed to have been destroyed by the wine. I apologize for his remark.”
The devilishly handsome knight with the eyepatch grinned. “No need,” he said. “I’m William de Wolfe and this ugly brute next to me is Paris de Norville. That petite and delicate fellow is Kieran Hage and the tree-sized man is Michael de Bocage. I am afraid that we are terrible husbandly prospects because three out of the four of us are already married and it is my belief that de Bocage is too frightened to speak to a woman much less marry her, so he would not be a suitable candidate.”
He pointed down the line with the introductions – de Norville wasn’t ugly in the least, nor was Hage petite. He was positively enormous. De Wolfe, de Norville, and Hage looked to de Bocage, who muttered something into his cup as he drank, a word that sounded suspiciously like a curse at de Wolfe’s assessment of his marital intentions. That had the other three laughing at his expense, but Catherine sensed that George’s comment had not only been dismissed, but quickly forgotten.
“Then I am sure your wives are extremely fortunate and dedicated, my lords,” she said, relieved that they saw humor in drunken George. “Did they come with you?”
De Wolfe shook his head. “Nay, my lady,” he said. “My wife is pregnant and I will not allow her to travel, so the women remained at Northwood this time.”
Catherine nodded in understanding. “Then I congratulate you on your future son, my lord,” she said. “I only asked if they had come because this is my very first tournament and it would be lovely to watch with someone who has done this before.”
De Wolfe nodded. “Alas, my wife would have loved to explain the games to you,” he said. “Mayhap there will opportunity yet in the future.”
“I shall look forward to it, my lord.”
“Good,” de Wolfe said, his gaze moving to Charles. “Meanwhile, say farewell to your brothers, for when I am finished with them, they will be shadows of their former selves.”
The four of them started laughing, but not in a malicious way. It was very humorous, almost warm, and Charles took it as such.
“God,” he grumbled. “I hope that I do not make that easy of a target for you, in any case. I’ve used a joust pole from time to time.”
“Are you any good?” de Norville demanded.
Charles shrugged. “What I lack in experience, I make up for in ingenuity. I’ll survive.”
“I seem to remember seeing you at a tournament in Lancaster last year,” Hage said thoughtfully. He had a deep, rumbling voice. “You have two brothers, correct?”
“I do, my lord.”
Hage nodded as the memory came back to him. “I seem to recall a Geoffrey de Tuberville in a final round of the joust. He performed quite well.”
“That is my middle brother.”
“Ah,” de Norville said, lifting his cup. “Then we have good competition.”
Charles nodded graciously. “You flatter us, my lord.”
“William,” de Norville said, jabbing a finger into the man’s chest. “We will need to pull together a team tomorrow for the mass competition. Mayhap the de Tuberville brothers should join us.”
As William nodded, Charles was deeply flattered to be considered. “We are a well-trained and seasoned trio,” he said. “It would be an honor.”
“Excellent,” de Wolfe said. “Our encampment is near the entry to the field of competitors. Join us tomorrow at dawn so we can come up with a strategy.”
“We will be there, my lord.”
“Do you know any other scrupulous houses to join us?”
“Make sure it is not de Luzie.”
It wasn’t Charles who answered. The voice had come from behind them. They turned to see an enormous knight with dark eyes and black hair standing a few feet away, but Catherine recognized him immediately.
Ridge de Reyne had made an appearance.
When all eyes focused on him curiously, Ridge smiled faintly. “I did not mean to interrupt,” he said, looking at de Wolfe. “I am Ridge de Reyne. I simply wanted to introduce myself.”
That introduction brought a distinct reaction from the Northwood knights. “Of course,” de Wolfe said, all but forgetting Charles and Catherine as his focus shifted to Ridge. “I was hoping to see you tonight, de Reyne. I must thank you for sending word earlier. You saved Paris’ neck – literally.”
Ridge’s dark eyes glimmered. “It was my pleasure,” he said, looking to de Norville, who still had a cut above his right eye as a result of the dirty dealings of the day. “Watching out for de Luzie’s nasty tactics is something those of us who follow the circuit must be prepared for whenever he shows up. I thought it only fair to warn you.”
“And we are grateful,” de Wolfe said. He indicated the men standing next to him in a row. “Paris de Norville, Kieran Hage, and Michael de Bocage. We are in your debt.”
Ridge greeted them in order, but his attention inevitably moved to Catherine and Charles, standing off to the side. When de Wolfe saw where his attention was, he introduced the pair.
“Sir Charles de Tuberville and his sister, Lady Cathe
rine,” he said. “We were just discussing the mass competition tomorrow, among other things.”
Ridge greeted Charles, but his gaze was mostly drawn to Catherine, who was smiling at him with those big dimples on display. It was utterly endearing, but this was exactly what he had hoped for when he’d entered the hall and spied Catherine speaking to a group of knights. He’d dressed, washed, and even shaved for the woman and she didn’t seem displeased to see him.
He smiled back.
“My lady,” he greeted politely. “Did you not bring your bodyguards with you this evening?”
No one knew what he meant but Catherine. She laughed softly. “Nay, my lord, I did not. I left those vicious little beasts back in my tent where they belong.” When she looked around and realized no one knew what she was talking about, she hastened to clarify. “When we arrived today, my dogs ran off and Sir Ridge was kind enough to help me with them. But they would not stop barking at him.”
With the situation made clear, there were grins all around. “I do not doubt it,” de Wolfe said, but his focus returned to Ridge. “Since we are pulling together a team for the mass competition tomorrow, we would be honored if you and your men would join us, my lord. Will you consider it?”
Ridge shrugged. “I do not need to,” he said. “I accept, thank you.”
De Wolfe’s eye glittered at the prospect of having Ridge de Reyne on his team. “We will be the team to beat, I think,” he said. “Are there any other men you can suggest to join us?”
Ridge nodded. “Happily,” he said. “I would say the House of de Royans would be a good prospect. There are two knights who usually compete and they are fair and strong. Beverly Castle, of course.”
De Wolfe nodded. “Of course,” he agreed. “They are our allies. William Payton-Forrester is a good friend. I suppose we should include Alnwick also or the earl will complain to my liege that I excluded him. That would not bode well, considering we are allies.”
Ridge grinned at the way de Wolfe was rolling his eye, as if he really didn’t want to include Alnwick but politics dictated such a thing. “I will look over the room tonight and see if I can find any other worthy candidates,” he said. Then, his gaze moved to Catherine. “But I am quite certain we are boring the lady out of her mind with this talk. Forgive us, my lady. Men will speak of things that only interest men.”
Catherine had been staring at Ridge as he spoke. In fact, she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him. He had a deep, lyrical voice, something she found mesmerizing, and she was completely taken with his square jaw and comely looks. In fact, those dark eyes she’d thought were brown were really just a dark shade of blue, murky and dusky. He’d been dirty and a little disheveled when she’d met him that afternoon, but cleaned up and clean-shaven, the man’s masculine beauty shone through. She was perfectly content to watch him speak to the others, but when his attention turned on her, she could feel her cheeks growing hot.
“Nay, I am not bored at all,” she assured him. “As I told the others, this is my first tournament, so I am quite happy to listen to anything and everything. It is all quite exciting.”
Ridge smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “It will be far more exciting tomorrow when the mass competition takes place.”
“What, exactly, is that?”
Ridge laughed softly, looking at Charles to see if her brother wanted the privilege of explaining it to her, but Charles lifted a hand to him in a gesture that welcomed him to continue.
He did.
“There will be teams of men in the field over by the lists, my lady,” he said. “The rules are simple – you cannot use anything sharp, like a sword or a dagger, but you may use clubs and brute strength to subdue other men. Once a man has fallen, he may not rise again and he becomes the prisoner of the man who knocked him down.”
Catherine was listening intently. “He becomes a prisoner?” she said. “For what purpose?”
“Ransom. He will be ransomed back to his liege for a good deal of money.”
She looked surprised. “Then the mass competition is nothing more than a money grab?”
The men laughed. “That is an excellent way to put it,” Ridge said. “There is more to it than that, of course, but that is the gist of it. It is quite exciting.”
“Geoff and George and I shall be on Northwood’s team,” Charles said, rather proudly, before turning to de Wolfe and the others. “In fact, I am looking forward to it greatly. I’ve been in mass competitions before, but surely not as frequently as you have been. It seems to me that it is all about strategy.”
Charles left Catherine’s side to discuss the finer points of the mass competition with de Wolfe and his colleagues, leaving Catherine standing alone. Ridge was being sucked into the conversation as well, but he resisted when he realized that Catherine was without her brotherly chaperone. It would be impolite to leave the lady standing alone and ignored.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
The truth was that he was quite happy to have her all to himself, in full view of her brother.
“The mass competition can be a bit violent, in truth,” he said, continuing their conversation as the other knights spoke of the coming games. “The joust is about skill more than bloodlust. It can be quite exciting also.”
Catherine smiled. “I am looking forward to both,” she said. “I can only imagine that men will have more of a tendency to become injured in the mass competition, however. You said that it is perfectly legal to use clubs?”
Ridge nodded. “It is,” he said. “In my father’s years, it was legal to use swords, but too many men were injured or even killed.”
“Sounds nasty.”
“It was.”
“But it is better now?”
Ridge grinned. “I think it is more fun now,” he said. “I’m not sure it’s much safer, but it is certainly more fun using a big club to brain some fool.”
Catherine giggled. “I’m sure you’re just the man to do it.”
Ridge nodded, snorting because she was giggling, but the truth was that he could have listened to that sweet lisp all night. In fact, he wanted to do just that. He just wanted to talk to her. Unless her brother chased him away, he was going to take advantage of it.
“Tell me, my lady,” he said. “Why have we not seen you at any tournaments in the north before?”
Catherine shrugged. “Keswick Castle is rather rural,” she said. “We’re not particularly close to any major city except Carlisle. We’re just tucked away in the wilds of Cumbria, so there isn’t much opportunity to attend a tournament.”
“But your brothers have attended before, have they not?”
She nodded. “They have.”
“Then you must be kept very busy at home not to have had the opportunity to attend with them.”
Catherine thought on their home, something she was quite fond of. In spite of her mother’s hellish presence, Keswick was a heavenly place. She didn’t share Charles’ view that it was remote and boring. She thought it was lovely, in many ways.
“There is a good deal to do,” she said after a moment. “But the truth is that my father believes tournaments are violent and full of arrogant men, so he did not wish for me to attend. He would not stop my brothers, however, so they would compete when they had the chance. But this time, my mother insisted I come because…”
She abruptly stopped herself, realizing she was about to divulge why her mother wished for her to come. She didn’t want to tell Ridge the truth, mostly because she didn’t want him to think she was hinting around. At him. It was one thing for George to drunkenly spout the reason for her attendance at Durham, but it was quite another for her to voice it.
Ridge lifted a dark eyebrow, smiling at her encouragingly.
“Because why?” he said. “Is it a secret?”
She shook her head. “No secret,” she said. “She wanted me to come because… because she thought it might be a good experience for me. I do not leave home often.”
If Ridge thought she was lying about it, he didn’t let on. Like a gentleman, he simply nodded. “I agree with her,” he said. “It is good to get out and see something of the world. Have you spent your entire life in Cumbria?”
“Nay,” she said. “I fostered when I was younger at Prudhoe Castle, so I do suppose I have spent my entire life in the north. And you? Do you live in the north?”
He shook his head. “I was born in the north,” he said. “My family is anchored here, but I fostered at Kenilworth and spent many years in London and then in Scotland before coming to the tournament circuit.”
Catherine was listening with interest. “Did you serve in Scotland?”
“I did.”
“It sounds as if you have had an exciting life.”
“I have no complaints.”
“Do you make your living on the tournament circuit, then?”
“I do,” he said. “It has been quite lucrative, enough that I have been able to secure property with my winnings. I cannot compete in tournaments for the rest of my life, so when I’m old and battered and useless, I’ll need a place of my own to settle down and live out my old age.”
She eyed him dubiously. “You’re not that old yet,” she said, teasing him. “And you do not look to me as if you are anywhere close to being battered or useless. Where is this place you have secured?”
His eyes glittered. “It is called Lynebank Castle,” he said. “It’s north of Carlisle, next to the River Lyne.”
“Oh?” she said. “That is not terribly far from Keswick. I think we shall be neighbors.”
He dipped his head. “I would be honored,” he said. “Truthfully, I’ve not been to Lynebank since I purchased it.”
“Why not?”
“Suffice it to say that it needs a great deal of rebuilding and I must earn more money on the tournament circuit to pay for it,” he said. “But I do keep a small contingent there, men who guard the property and keep the Scots out.”
“But how on earth did you manage to buy it in the first place? Who did it belong to?”
“The king,” he said simply. “Lynebank was an outpost for Carlisle. It was a royal property.”
The Black Storm (De Reyne Domination Book 4) Page 5
