It made those moments they’d been together come rushing back at him, like a river flooding too fast to get out of the way. Only a few, fleeting moments. He should have forgotten them by now, but he’d only pushed them aside. Her look had brought them back and now he was pacing, distracted, full of anguish. He should have been focused on beating every opponent in every category, not wondering what a look meant or why she’d called out.
“She’ll never be yours,” he growled.
He hadn’t seen Lord Drayton yet, but knew he was there. He couldn’t wait to pummel his men, send them home in disgrace and defeat. He would erase her voice from his mind and replace it with the sound of clanging steel and his rivals’ cries of pain.
Then, to confirm his descent into madness, he heard her voice again.
“Sir Tristan? Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid I was good and lost.” She peeked her head through an opening in the back of the canvas tent. She looked as beautiful as ever, a shy, fearful smile on her face.
“Are you alone?” he bellowed, pulling her fully inside. “Where is your escort? You’re walking about out there without even your maid?” He had his hand wrapped around her arm and knew he should let her go, but couldn’t. “You daft woman, do you know how dangerous it is out there?”
“Very dangerous, I’m going to guess,” she said, biting her lip and looking up at him with that same longing he thought he saw in her eyes when she’d called his name. “I snuck away from Lady Heloise’s knight. I had to see you,” she said, looking down.
“This is highly irregular,” he told her, finally shaking himself free from touching her. “What are you doing? Beside the fact that you put yourself in danger walking around unescorted in the midst of all these violence hungry men, don’t you know you’re putting your—your engagement in jeopardy being here with me?” He almost choked on the word and glared at her with such intensity, it should have set her on fire.
She flinched, but he could see it wasn’t because of his anger. She closed her eyes and sighed. “So you did hear about it.”
“About your engagement?”
“Stop saying it,” she demanded, stamping her foot. “There was never an engagement. Don’t you think if it was real, my father would have sent out an announcement? Would he have relied on gossip and hearsay to spread the news?” Now she looked at him with enough ferocity to set him aflame but, instead, the words she spat at him filled him with hope.
“Never an engagement?” he repeated, dazed. He took a step toward her but she took a step back.
“That’s why you never returned,” she accused. “Never sent me a message, not even a word. You believed that—that blackguard instead of me.”
Before he could feel ashamed, for that was exactly what he had done, he grew defensive. “What did you give me to believe in?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest. No easy feat in his armor.
Her eyes widened and, for a brief second, he thought she may attack. “Are you seriously asking me that?” She looked around and lowered her voice to a hiss. “After what we—after that night? I told you I was your lady—” she broke off, her face a deep shade of crimson.
“Then you gave Lord Drayton permission to speak to your father, while you told me to wait.”
Her mouth opened and closed, then she screwed up her brow. “I didn’t give him permission. I don’t remember exactly what I said before he spoke to my father, but what’s more important is what I said after. Which was that I didn’t want to marry him.”
“You didn’t? You don’t?” he asked, trying again to lessen the gap between them. This time she didn’t back away. “Then why would he risk your father’s ire by lying like that?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, unable to meet his eyes for a moment. “I waited to give my answer. I wish that I hadn’t, but I did, and he must have taken my silence on the matter as consent.”
“What is your fascination with waiting?” he asked, wanting to pull his hair out.
“I wanted to be sure. I need to be in love. Real love. And I wanted to be sure, that’s all. I was foolish, I admit it, because I knew I could never be in love with Lord Drayton.”
She was as frustrating and strange as ever. Carrying on the way she did, as if only she could hear herself. He also found it … intoxicating. Perhaps she wasn’t good for him, but he wanted more. He wanted to ask if she thought she could be in love with him but before he could find a way to utter the words, she put her hands on his shoulders and stood on her toes, trying to pull him toward her.
“I wish you weren’t wearing all this metal,” she said. “I want to touch you.” She reached up and laid one palm against his cheek.
He was undone. “How can you say such things so freely?” he asked, turning his face so his lips grazed her hand. He also wished he wasn’t wearing so much metal. All thoughts of thoroughly destroying Drayton’s men on the field were disintegrating under her touch.
Her cheeks grew red again, but she didn’t look away. “It isn’t easy,” she said. “I have pride, too, you know. It isn’t just for knights. But I don’t have the luxury of being coy. I have to be honest, and I think I may know …”
“You make no sense, as usual, Lady Fay,” he said, pulling her closer and leaning down. Their lips were inches apart. “What do you think you know?”
She truly did look like she was suffering, but he’d suffered, too. He’d as good as made his confession when he offered to ask for her hand and telling him to wait had been the first blow. Now, he knew the news of her engagement to another hadn’t been her fault, but that had caused him pain as well.
“It had to be real,” she said. “I know now that it is. I—”
He should have waited for the full confession, but he felt such a swelling in his heart that he acted without a thought. He crushed his mouth to hers, feeling what she felt, knowing what she knew.
*
Fay would have collapsed to the dirty, hay-covered ground if Tristan hadn’t been holding on to her so firmly. It had taken every ounce of courage to say the things she’d said, and if it hadn’t been for the damn curse she would have played at least a little bit hard to get. Instead, she laid it all out on the line. If this had been modern dating, she would have been thoroughly dumped, so she was more than grateful she was being thoroughly kissed instead.
“Don’t do the tournament,” she said, only pulling away long enough to get the words out. She had no clue how to dismantle his armor or she would have tried. “Let’s find a spot to be alone.”
He kissed her more, his teeth gently grazing her lower lip, his hands roaming her sides and back. “But I promised myself I would decimate your fiancé’s men to ease my pain.”
She gasped, but he wouldn’t let her pull away. He nuzzled behind her ear as she said, “Don’t call him that, even in jest. You had pain?”
“Of course I did. I told you how I felt.”
She punched him in the shoulder, tears rushing to her eyes at the pain of cracking her knuckles against the solid metal. “No, you didn’t.”
He took her hand and kissed it, shaking his head in dismay. “I certainly did, when I said I wanted to marry you.”
“It’s not the same. It could have just been an advantageous match, or I thought maybe you felt morally obligated after we spent the night together.”
She glanced around. Outside the thick canvas walls, she could hear people tramping around and calling out to each other. It was as private as it was going to get, but anyone could pop their head in. The place was so crowded with people, eager for entertainment and violence, that she wasn’t sure there was a truly private place for miles. It was here and now if they were going to work things out.
“It would be an advantageous match for me,” he admitted, scowling at her. “Marrying Lord Drayton would be an advantageous match for you. Does that mean you want to do it?”
She hated that he had her and she made a face at him. “Of course not. But what about the other thing?”
>
“Moral obligation?” he asked. “Of course there is that. But if I didn’t feel the way I do, I suppose I would have bargained with the nearest priest for absolution.”
She felt a grin splitting her face, though she was certain she should have felt more offended by that answer. “What is it you feel?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes and kissed her again. Not a long, lusty, deep kiss this time, but a soft, questioning one. “I love you,” he said. She opened her mouth, but he placed a finger to her lips, scowling down at her. “And do not ask me if I’m certain. I promise you that I don’t think nearly as much as you do, nor do I worry over my feelings. I knew then and I know now. I’ll know tomorrow, as well.”
She hated that he thought she was neurotic, but it was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. “Then let’s go find my father and tell him at once,” she said, gripping the neck opening of his armor and trying to pull him down to her for another kiss.
He didn’t budge. “I’ve told you why I must compete,” he said.
She really was sure. Even his stony resolve sent shivers up her spine. She positively tingled everywhere. That had to be love. All the warm fuzzies she felt running through her veins instead of blood were put there by Tristan. Her very heart beat for him now. “But you’ve already decimated Lord Drayton. I’ve chosen you over him and, soon, everyone will know it.”
He raised a brow. “But the people will be disappointed if I don’t compete. No one can beat me in archery, and the crowds will pack in as far as you can see for hand to hand combat when it’s my turn. Besides excelling at everything, I’m extremely popular in this area.”
She gaped at his blatant bragging. “I never knew how modest you were.” Even this unsavory trait of his didn’t put a dent in her glowing feelings.
“I only speak the truth. As you will see. You can be proud as well.”
“Why is that?” she asked, letting him kiss her again. She still wanted him to ditch the entire tournament, toss her on the back of his horse, and take her away to the nearest inn.
“Because I will be winning the tournament in your honor.” He smiled smugly.
“But I don’t want you to win it at all,” she cajoled. “I want you to skip it and—”
“There’s a great deal of money to be won,” he interrupted, placing her away from him. “And if I’m to be married soon, I need all I can get. I’ve seen where you live and I know what you’re accustomed to.”
He looked so earnest that her heart ached a little. “I don’t care about that, honestly I don’t.” If only she could tell him everything she’d already learned to live without, such as running water, safe water, computers and phones, proper medical care … He’d know that she could easily do without a fireplace in every room. “But if you want to show off in front of me, then I suppose I can cheer you on while you do it.”
He beamed. “I didn’t think there could be a better motivation than revenge, but now I know there is.” He kissed her, then took her arm, leading her out of the stables. “Did you say Lady Heloise’s knight was escorting you and your sister? Lady Heloise Chevaux?”
“She is my mother’s half-cousin, or something like that. My father is great friends with her.”
“She’s very powerful,” he said, winking at her. “This match gets more and more advantageous for me.”
She’d learned her lesson about punching armor, so she smiled at him instead, wishing they weren’t out in the open now so she could kiss him again. It was all over. All the worry and waiting. She was in love and he said he felt the same. She could see it in his eyes that he felt it.
He paused behind her family’s viewing pavilion, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “I have something for you,” he said. “I’ll give it to you after the tournament is over. Watch for me. I will give my all to win.”
He turned and hurried back the way they’d come and she felt mildly guilty for keeping him from his preparations. The guilt was gone in two seconds when she closed her eyes and mentally relived their kisses, the look in his eyes, and the sure way he’d said he loved her. Every bit of her awkward, uncomfortable confession had been worth it to hear him say those words.
She realized then that she hadn’t said it back to him. She’d started to, had mostly said it, but he’d cut her off. Or had she chickened out? She couldn’t remember, and doubt and worry started creeping back in. She had to dot every i and cross every t if she stood a chance of breaking the curse. The moment she was alone with Tristan she would tell him. She wanted to tell him everything, all her thoughts and feelings. She even wanted to tell him the truth, not that he’d be able to hear it.
The flowing fabric back of the tent jostled and rippled, then Anne finally found the parting and flung it aside. “I thought I heard someone snuffling about like a wild boar back here. Lady Heloise just arrived and is in a terror that you’ve been murdered. She sent the guard off to find you after berating him for a solid ten minutes for losing you in the first place. You need to apologize at once, and thank the saints that Father hasn’t arrived yet to know you ran off.”
Fay ducked her head, certain she wouldn’t be able to fake a proper level of remorse. “Sorry, Anne, I didn’t mean to worry everyone.”
“Did you find him at least?”
“Find who?” she tried.
Anne shook her head in disgust. “Really, Fay? Do you think I’m an idiot just because I’m an invalid? You snuck off not a moment after Sir Tristan went past.”
Fay hugged her sister, her remorse growing. “You’re not either of those. And yes, I did find him.” She couldn’t hide her smile.
“Hurry and tell me.”
“He’s going to speak to Father. He’s going to win the tournament in my honor. Anne, he said he loved me!”
Tears filled Anne’s eyes and she returned Fay’s hug. “I’m so happy for you. I truly am. Make it a long engagement, will you? I want to keep you as long as I can.”
Before she could assure Anne she would never lose her as a sister, Lady Heloise tossed aside the canvas and actually grabbed her ear, yanking her back under the tent. “You wicked girl. It would break your father’s heart to know what a foolish child he has, which is the only reason I won’t tell him you ran off. I yelled at my most faithful knight because of you.” Fay kept her head down as she was all but tossed into a seat next to Batty. “If you so much as move a finger without asking permission, I’ll force your father to start believing in beating you.”
“Yes, Lady Heloise. I’m truly sorry.”
“Was it worth it, young lady?”
Fay snuck a glance at Anne, who barely lifted one shoulder. Then she risked a direct look at Lady Heloise. Instead of getting hit, she got a knowing smile. It was gone in an instant, replaced with a stern scowl, although there was a twinkle in her eyes.
“It was, Lady Heloise.”
Chapter 24
Tristan dominated the tournament, just as he’d promised, and Fay found out she was more bloodthirsty than she’d ever thought possible. When she watched him in the fighting ring, beating the living crap out of his opponent, who was half a head taller than he was, she hollered as loud as any of the rabble in the crowd. She felt the pride he told her she could feel, not only because of his excellence at every competition, but because he was hers.
Her breath had been taken away more than once on the day of the archery competition. Her father and Lady Heloise’s grumpy bodyguard both explained to her that many knights believed bow and arrow skills to be beneath them. Batty reiterated what Brom had told her once, that it was going to be the wave of the future and any knight wanting to stay relevant in battles to come should excel at it. Fay soon learned Brom’s opinion must stem from the fact that he himself was quite good, hitting target after target, and only getting knocked out by a wiry lad from the south.
Fay thought she could see what the men meant. The boy who kept sweeping the competition did seem young and scraggly compared to the other knights. He looked like h
e might have been plucked from a Dickensian London street gang and learned to shoot to earn his supper. Everyone in the tent found themselves rooting for the up and comer as he lobbed bullseye after bullseye. That was until it was Tristan’s turn. The cocky youngster had been swaggering around, inciting the crowd to cheer for him when Tristan was announced. The crowd fell silent then immediately set to humming. Fay glanced around her, seeing that everyone in her tent as well as the rest of the people enjoying the spectacle was waiting for something special to happen.
Tristan marched to the shooting area and clapped the boy on the shoulder, pointing at the arrow that stuck clean in the middle of the target. The lad made to go remove his arrow, but Tristan waved for him to leave it. He turned and waved at the crowd, managing to catch her eye and send her a wink. She felt her cheeks burning but couldn’t tear her eyes from him in order to see if anyone else in the tent caught the gesture. Batty gripped her hand hard enough to meld the bones together and Fay found she was holding her breath.
Tristan readied his bow and pulled the arrow back into position before releasing it with a flick of his fingers. Fay thought the arrow might have fallen. Or perhaps she had been mistaken and he hadn’t loosed it yet. But the crowd erupted into cheers and the young knight who’d so far been dominating the competition bowed to Tristan before walking off the field. Fay squinted and saw that Tristan’s arrow had cleanly sliced straight through the middle of the first arrow, lodging itself into the center of the target. He took a step and sent another one into the center of the next straw target.
The cheers didn’t let up as he loosed arrow after arrow with lightning speed, taking a quick step after each one so they landed in the bullseye of each new target, until he came to the end of the line. Before anyone could be too disappointed that the show was over, Brom ran up and handed him a new supply of arrows. Tristan made a jaunty bow to the audience then set to splitting each consecutive arrow in half as he made his way back down the row of targets. Fay’s throat hurt from cheering as he was awarded his prize and her heart swelled with happiness for him.
Endearing (Knight Everlasting Book 1) Page 21
