She nodded. “Yes. Yes I do. But not like that. Honor is as important as winning.”
“I find it amusing you should say so after disguising yourself as a man to joust.”
Her disbelief fled in the face of his coldness. She straightened, lifting her chin. “I did not sabotage you. I wouldn’t do that to you. I thought you would have learned that by now.” She spun around to come face to face with a woman. The woman’s blue eyes assessed her with a brief glance from head to toe and then dismissed her.
Layne cast an accusing glare at Griffin before leaving. She had no doubt that the woman was one of the nobles he did not kiss.
Griffin watched her go, regret twisting his heart. He knew she didn't sabotage him. And yet, she had the opportunity at every turn. Had she deceived him so? Even as he thought this, his instinct was to cry out to her not to leave him again. But she wasn’t his to stop. He shifted his gaze to lock eyes with Jacquelyn. He quickly tried to hide the hurt and betrayal by turning away from her to look down at his weapons. It didn’t appear she had touched any of them. “Why did you follow me, Jacquelyn?”
“I don’t have much time to be alone with you.” She glanced after Layne and then looked back at Griffin. “I just wanted to... see how you fared. You’ve been away for a long time.”
“You could have asked me these questions in the castle. Why out here? You hate dirt and mud. You wouldn’t be caught dead trudging through the combatants’ tents.” He bent down to inspect his weapons more closely.
“Yes, well, any decent woman would avoid these gong pits.” She lifted her foot to inspect the bottom of her slipper.
“Then why come?” He looked at her.
She smiled gently, thrusting out her ample bosom to him, stroking the fabric at her belly. “I’d rather be in the castle. In a warm bed.” She looked at him through lidded eyes. “Wouldn’t you?”
Griffin stood, appalled. This couldn't be what he thought. Surely, she could not be attempting to seduce him. “Never.”
“You like the dirt and mud better? Do you actually sleep here?” She bent over and peered inside the tent, giving him a view of her rounded breasts.
He ground his teeth. This made no sense! Richard was lord of the castle. Why come after him? And then he remembered. He had seen her running from the solar. She must have overheard his conversation with his father. Now, thinking he was the favored son, she was turning her attentions back to him. It was so comically, pathetically obvious.
“I’d like to see where you sleep,” she continued.
“You are married to my brother, Jacquelyn. And I would never betray him like that.”
She walked up to him, wrapping her arms about his neck. “I can change your mind.”
He quickly disengaged her hands and pushed her back a step. “It’s time you head back.”
She scowled, and in another lifetime ago he would have thought her pout irresistible. But not any longer. “Won’t you even escort me?”
“Of course.” He bowed stiffly and began to lead the way, careful not to touch her or to let her touch him.
She ‘humphed’ and hurried past him, walking with her chin held high.
He had a moment of victory. Until he spotted Layne through two trees, near her tent, watching them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Griffin stared down the field of honor at his opponent. Daunger sat as still as a stone, staring at him. He had not been in any other tournament, so this was the first time Griffin or any of the other knights were seeing him joust. He was well known for his participation in the melees, known for being rash and reckless and unpredictable. Despite his inexperience in the joust, Griffin suspected he was going to be a dangerous opponent.
Griffin lowered his visor. He had to stay focused, watch for an opening. But as soon as the visor closed and the cheers of the crowd muted, the image of a woman with glorious blue eyes filled his mind. Why had she been near his weapons? Was she really worrying about him?
He grit his teeth. He couldn’t think of her now. Firmly, he pushed Layne’s image from his mind. But it wasn’t as easy as he would have liked it to be. Her vision haunted his days as much as his nights. Everywhere he went, he looked for her, listened for her laughter. He missed her.
Adonis pranced nervously beneath him.
Griffin tugged on the reins, urging Adonis into a circle to calm him.
Carlton lifted his lance to him.
Griffin took it and spurred Adonis. Through the slit in his visor, he saw Daunger charging toward him down the field. He couched the lance, holding it firmly.
Adonis suddenly slowed and threw his head, balking.
Daunger’s lance struck Griffin hard in the shoulder. His body half turned in the saddle, and if he was any less experienced Griffin would have been unhorsed. His arm was numb and throbbing as he rode to the other end of the field. He tossed down his lance and turned Adonis toward his side of the field. He passed Daunger who had flipped up his visor and was grinning ear to ear.
Griffin did not look at the grandstand where he knew his family watched. He already felt the incredible weight of their presence.
His arm pulsated from the blow, but he pushed the pain aside. He pushed all other thoughts aside. Dispatch Daunger. That was all that was important. Winning this joust.
Griffin grabbed the lance from Carlton and whirled Adonis, spurring him on. No hesitancy. Just letting the horse and the lance become one with him. The roar of the crowd thrummed in his ears, a distance boom of thunder. His heart hammered in his chest.
Daunger came closer. Closer. His lance aimed at Griffin’s chest.
Griffin leaned in slightly. He would not be denied. Not this time. He was rewarded by striking Daunger near his stomach, Daunger’s lance struck his arm, succeeding in aiding the thrust forward. Griffin’s body twisted slightly, enough force behind the strike to throw Daunger up and out of his saddle.
Griffin’s lance pushed him back as Daunger’s steed continued on. Daunger fell back into the dirt and dust as Griffin rode past him.
Griffin rounded the opposite end. When he saw Daunger lying on the ground, he straightened. The roar of the crowd was thunderous, drowning out all else. He lifted his visor and waited until Daunger staggered to his feet.
As he rode forward, his body in rhythm with Adonis, he realized something was wrong with his arm. If he lifted it even a little bit, shooting pain erupted through his limb. He held it against his stomach and left the field of honor.
Something was wrong. As Layne watched Griffin ride out of the field of honor, she saw the way he held his arm close to his stomach.
“Damn,” Colin muttered, shaking his head.
Layne couldn’t tear her gaze from Griffin’s disappearing back. The next thing she knew, she was moving through the crowd.
“Layne!” Frances called.
She didn’t stop. She squeezed between two farmers, skirted a child racing by. Griffin was hurt. When she cleared the spectators, her walk turned into a run. Tingles of trepidation shivered along her spine. She ran through long stalks of grass. When she finally burst through to the clearing, she saw Adonis outside the white tent. She didn’t stop; she brushed the tent flap aside and stepped in.
Griffin whirled. He had already removed his helmet and neck armor and was working on the buckles for his backplate. His blonde hair was damp and hung about his head in wet curls. “What do you want?” His voice was cold.
“You’re hurt.” She stepped inside the tent and the flap closed behind her.
“It is nothing.”
She ignored him. “Sit here.” She indicated his mat.
“So it is easier for you to stab me in the back?”
She winced, but kept her voice light. “If I wanted to do that, I wouldn’t need you to sit.” She lifted his arm to unbuckle the straps holding the plates together.
He grimaced and let out a growl of pain. “I don’t need your help.”
“Of course not. But I would like to help you.�
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“Carlton will help me when he finishes gathering the lances and returns to the tent.”
She ignored his comment and looked into his eyes. “It’s your arm.”
He clenched his lips and looked away, but sat on the mat.
Layne quickly removed his breastplate and backplate, carefully setting them aside. Then, she moved to the hurt arm. He had already removed his gauntlets. She removed the vambrace and then the rerebrace.
She sat back for a moment, staring at him. The way he held his arm, immobile and against his side, was not a good sign. “Where does it hurt?” She leaned in to untie the doublet.
“My entire arm.”
She nodded. “You were hit twice in your shoulder.” She opened the doublet revealing his firm chest.
He hissed in pain.
She tucked her hand beneath his hairline and ran it gently across his upper back to his shoulder. His body tensed as soon as she touched it. There was a large bump in the back of his shoulder. Even with that little contact, she felt how deformed the joint was and how swollen. She knew what it was. Her father had been prone to these injuries when she was young. She had seen Colin fix it many times. Frances had the same type of injury once. “Can you get your arm out of your doublet?”
“Of course.” The answer sounded more like determination than an ability to do the simple task. He took a deep breath and lifted his arm.
Layne pulled the doublet down his arm and off quickly.
He ground his teeth and muffled a heady cry.
She looked at him. “Are you all right?”
This time, he could only nod and didn’t look her in the eye.
Layne leaned forward, inspecting his shoulder. She gently ran her fingertips over his arm, up his muscled bicep to his shoulder. The all too familiar lump was there. She felt a twinge of pain and of remorse. She knew what she had to do. “Lie down.”
He did as she asked without any protestations. He closed his eyes.
“Can you relax?”
He shook his head.
She stroked his head, brushing his damp hair from his forehead. “Try.”
He opened his eyes to look at her. For a moment, their gazes locked and held. She had missed him and his arrogance. But mostly she had missed his calm reassurance and his insatiable confidence. His heated glances and gentle touches. His…
Layne tore her gaze from his. She needed to fix his shoulder, another thing she was sure he would not approve of, before the idiot physicians rushed in to leech him to death. She sat beside him, facing him. She placed her feet between his arm and his torso. “This is going to hurt.”
Griffin’s mouth dropped. Then he snapped it closed. “Do you know what you are doing?”
“I find that insulting. Do you really think I would risk your well being?”
“You do want your brother to win.”
Layne carefully moved his arm so it was stretched out away from his body, toward her.
He grit his teeth as she moved it.
Then she paused, giving him a moment to relax. Her hands wrapped around his wrist.
He opened his eyes to look at her. “That wasn’t too bad.”
“No,” she agreed and suddenly yanked his arm toward her as hard as she could, bracing herself against him with her feet.
He threw his head back and a cry of agony ripped from his lips.
Layne heard the popping noise. She released him just as the tent flap was thrown open and Carlton entered, followed by two physicians.
Layne stood quickly.
The physicians went to Griffin’s side immediately, eyeing her with distrust.
Carlton glanced at her unsurely and then at Griffin.
Layne watched the physicians poke and prod him like a piece of cattle. He fended off their explorations with both hands and Layne grinned. He would be fine. She backed toward the exit.
“Out!” Griffin finally hollered.
Layne made her escape, the physicians quickly following. As she moved away from the tent, she saw a tall blonde man heading toward the tent. She thought he was the lord sponsoring the tournament, but she couldn’t be sure. He was accompanied by a stunning woman with golden hair. She noticed the woman was looking at her, watching her. They locked gazes for a moment before the woman followed the lord into Griffin’s tent.
Griffin shot to his feet. He jerked forward to go after Layne.
Richard swept the flap aside and entered. “Well done, brother!”
Griffin grimaced, trying to see past him to Layne. Instead, he met his sister’s gaze. He was trapped. He moved back into the pavilion, allowing them reluctant entrance.
“Yes, I was amazed at…” Gwen’s voice trailed off and a frown of worry marred her brow. “Have you been hurt?”
Griffin realized he was still cradling his arm. His shoulder burned and throbbed. Carefully, he clenched his fist. There was only minimal pain, nothing like the brutal agony he had been feeling moments before.
“Griffin?” Richard asked in the same demanding tone that his father used.
Griffin ignored him and carefully lifted his arm. There was still some pain, but definitely not like before. He could use his arm again. He glanced at the flap. Whatever Layne had done had worked! He felt a twist of guilt clenching his stomach. At every turn, she was trying to help him. It just didn’t make any sense. Why would she help him? Where was her loyalty to Ethan? What about her brothers? If she hoped they would win, then why not leave him wounded and hurt?
“Obviously, the only thing that was hurt was your senses,” Richard said. “I joust later this afternoon with –”
Richard went on, but Griffin wasn’t listening. He swung his gaze back to look at the tent flap and caught Gwen’s stare. There was a strange smile on her lips as she stared at him.
Gwen ducked outside, leaving her brothers to speak of their upcoming jousts. She found Carlton at the side of the tent brushing Adonis. He was a charming young man who would make a fine knight when the time came. She patted his shoulder. “I’m so impressed with Griffin,” Gwen said.
Carlton nodded. “Sir Griffin is doing marvelously in the tournaments. He is the most skilled and talented of all the knights. He takes the tourneys very seriously. He practices all the time.”
Gwen smiled. “He’s always been like that. Maybe too seriously. Every knight needs to have time off.”
Carlton shook his head. “With all due respect, m’lady, Sir Griffin would not win if he didn’t practice relentlessly. He will practice for today for his jousts on the morrow.”
Gwen nodded as Carlton ran a brush across Adonis’s coat. “Yes. There are many here who will be a test to his skill.”
“Sir Griffin thinks his biggest challenge will be Sir Osmont.”
“Sir Osmont? I believe I've heard the name.”
Carlton brushed down Adonis’s neck. “They have a past.”
“Past?”
“Well…” Carlton stopped combing the horse. He looked over his shoulder at her. “Sir Griffin has often told me that gossip is not a knightly way.”
“But Griffin is my brother!” Gwen protested. “I have every right to know.”
Carlton looked down with his brow furrowed. “And I would hate to upset you.” With a sigh he looked up. “Sir Griffin humiliated Sir Osmont the last time they jousted. He unhorsed him in one pass and made him yield.”
Gwen’s eye brows rose in shock. “They crossed swords?”
“Oh, yes,” Carlton whispered, barely able to contain his excitement. “Sir Osmont deserved everything he got, if you ask me. He hurt Layne while she was under Sir Griffin’s protection and cut off two fingers of her brother’s hand.”
“Layne? Who is Layne?”
“Only the most brilliant woman I have ever met.” His eyes widened in shock and his mouth dropped. He bowed slightly. “Next to you, of course, m’lady.”
Gwen’s smile was genuine. She did like Carlton. “Who is she?”
“Sir Griffin intervened on he
r behalf, saving her from the dungeon by loaning her brother’s coin to pay off her fine.” Adonis threw his head and whinnied. Carlton turned back to the animal to continue brushing him.
That sounded like Griffin. Off to rescue another maiden. “Locked in the dungeon. That is severe. Is she still under Griffin’s protection?”
Carlton shrugged, running the brush over Adonis’s back. “Nay. She is with her brothers now. Their tent is over there. It’s the Fletcher tent.”
Gwen gazed in the direction of the Fletcher tent. Layne Fletcher. This was a woman she had to meet. “What did she do to be so punished?”
Carlton faltered in brushing Adonis. “I --” He furrowed his brow in thought. “She dressed up as a knight and jousted.”
“Shocking!” Gwen exclaimed, but inside she was intrigued. Griffin had saved this girl even though she defied decorum.
“I only tell you because it is common knowledge. I don’t think it is appropriate to gossip.”
“We are just talking, Carlton. This is not gossiping. And, as you said, that is common knowledge.” But not to her. Nor to Richard. Griffin had been a very busy man since he had been away. “Is she the one that is sabotaging him?”
“What?” Carlton almost dropped the brush. He fumbled with it for a moment, before righting it. “No! Layne would never --”
“So, it is true! Someone is trying to sabotage my brother.”
Carlton’s shoulders drooped as he opened his mouth and then closed it.
Gwen felt sorry for the boy. Duped by a woman. It was all so easy. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t hear it from you.” But she had heard enough from him; she had heard everything she wanted to know.
Chapter Twenty-Four
After a long day of jousts, many had been defeated. Many were left. Osmont, Richard and both of Layne’s brothers had achieved victory in their contests and had made it to the next day’s jousts.
When Griffin walked into the Great Hall for the evening meal, he heard Richard’s roar of laughter. He spotted his brother and Prince Edward sitting on the dais at the front of the hall, closest to the hearth. Jacquelyn sat beside Richard, with Gwen beside her. His father was nowhere to be seen. Of that, Griffin was grateful. His father had appeared too sickly to come down to the feast.
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