by Alexa Aston
She returned to the keep and removed her clothes, washing with the water from a jug and placing her smock and cotehardie over her head. Smoothing them into place, she headed down to the great hall for the final meal of the day. Gillian already sat upon the dais and Nan joined her. She’d gotten to know the girl fairly well during their shared meals. Gillian proved to be kind and friendly and not nearly as shy as she had been when they’d first met at Shercastle. Nan hoped her influence was bringing the girl out of her shell.
Gillian greeted her warmly. “How did your training go today, Nan?”
“Exceedingly well. In fact, we’re holding an archery contest tomorrow morning. Mayhap you would enjoy attending it to see the men’s progress.”
“Will Sir David be there?” she asked eagerly.
“He could be,” Nan said, not bothering to hide her smile. “Would that please you?”
Gillian took her hand. That gesture alone touched Nan’s heart, knowing how withdrawn and undemonstrative the young noblewoman had been such a short time ago.
“Nan, I must tell you something. I have to tell someone and you are my closest friend.” Her eyes darted to the area where the soldiers sat and a smile lit her face. Nan assumed she had spied David.
“I hope to wed your cousin,” Gillian revealed. “I think . . . I believe . . . oh, I know that I am in love with him.”
Nan squeezed her hand. “That’s marvelous news, Gillian. Have you spoken to your brother about your feelings?”
Tristan had yet to arrive in the great hall, which led Nan to believe this was why Gillian spoke so openly about her feelings for David.
“Not yet. David urged me to wait until he has met with Tristan.” She sighed. “I cannot believe this has happened to me. I never thought it could. I didn’t know . . . I didn’t think . . . that love really existed. My parents . . . well, they were courteous toward one another, but I never saw any true affection expressed between them.”
“Most arranged marriages are that way,” Nan said. “But I will tell you now that you are marrying into a most romantic family, Gillian. Love matches abound.” She thought a moment. “This means you will come to live at Sandbourne. Oh, you will adore Elysande and Michael. They will love you like a daughter of their own. I’m so happy for you and David.”
“I only hope Tristan agrees to the match,” Gillian said. “I am nervous about that.”
“You are of an age to wed and, as your guardian, ’tis his responsibility to see you settled,” Nan assured her. “I am sure he will respond favorably to David’s petition.”
“Tristan told me the last time I left for Shercastle that it would be the end of my fostering days and that I would not be returning to Lady Magdalen’s care. He hinted that he would begin to look for a husband for me. Oh, Nan, it must be David. It must!”
Nan reflected on the day they departed from Shercastle. If Gillian had fostered with Lord Wymun and Lady Magdalen for years, she wondered why the girl had not been more emotional when she left the couple’s care. Quickly, Nan uttered a prayer of thanks to the Virgin for how very different her upbringing had been from the Theroldes. That made her think of where Tristan slept and she decided to work this into their conversation.
“You had mentioned your brothers on a previous occasion but not where they are. Have they become knights and serve on different estates? Will they be able to attend your nuptial mass?”
Tristan entered the great hall and came to the dais, inclining his head to them both. He took a seat and reached for the pewter cup before him.
Gillian turned her head away from him and faced Nan. The stricken look on her face and the tears welling in her eyes caused Nan’s throat to thicken with emotion, seeing her new friend’s distress.
“They are no longer with us,” she said, her voice quivering.
“They have all passed on?” Nan gently inquired.
“Aye.”
Gillian took in a deep breath. “Will you excuse me? I am not feeling hungry tonight.” With that, Gillian hurried from the great hall.
Guilt oozed through Nan for upsetting the girl. She looked up as a servant began to set a trencher down in front of her. The girl seemed confused with Gillian having left.
Nan glanced to her right and saw Tristan, silent as always.
“Lord Tristan and I will share a trencher this evening,” she told the servant and then slipped into the seat beside him.
He nodded at her again and asked, “How do you think the training is going with my men?”
“I think very well,” she told him and decided to broach what had been on her mind. “Have you ever thought of adding more men to your barracks? With such a large estate, I’m sure you can be stretched thin at times when men are patrolling the roads and on duty at the wall walk.”
“If I could find more qualified soldiers, I would be more than happy to add them,” he confided. “But ’tis not always easy to find men who possess the necessary skills—and the loyalty required.”
“Mayhap my father could help,” Nan suggested. “Or Michael. Even my brothers. Ancel is Earl of Mauntell and Edward is Baron of Shallowheart. If each of them could spare a man—or even two—then that would give you a strong foundation to build upon. I promise you all of them would be well trained.”
Tristan looked stunned by her proposal. “I would never ask that of anyone, much less your family.” Color rose in his cheeks.
“But I can,” she said quickly. “Especially with Sir Stephen and Sir Toby gone, you have a great need to supplement the soldiers already in place.”
A stricken look flickered across his face before Tristan masked his features again.
“You knew both of them well, didn’t you?”
“Aye,” he said. “The three of us fostered together. We were as close as brothers. Stephen was a third son and Toby a fourth. They could have returned to their families but instead they came to Leventhorpe when I needed them most. In doing so, they earned my gratitude and appreciation for all they did. They were men I had faith in.”
“As you do Sir Dawkin?”
Tristan nodded. “He fostered here as a boy under my grandfather. Came when he was seven and has remained all these years. Dawkin is the only man at Leventhorpe who has my full confidence now.”
Sadness flooded Nan. “You’re so alone,” she said softly, her heart aching for him. She longed to reach out and take his hand to offer him comfort.
He sighed. “Sometimes, I feel the weight of the world crushing me.” Tristan excused himself and left the great hall, his meal untouched.
Nan wished she could find a way to help him. He seemed adrift, heading out to sea with no anchor—and no hope of ever finding one.
She finished her meal and watched as the handful of servants collected the remains and others pushed the trestle tables back against the walls. Strolling over to David, the two of them spoke of how quickly the week at Thorpe Castle had passed and that this time next week they would be leaving for Bexley. Nan also told him about tomorrow’s archery contest, which he had already heard about several times.
“The men are looking forward to it, Nan. I’ll make sure I’m there to assist. Drew, too.”
“That will make Gillian happy. She spoke to me tonight about wedding you,” she confided to her cousin.
“Aye, we know it’s what we want to do,” he confirmed. “I plan to speak to Lord Tristan soon and then I will take you to Ancel and Margery. I’ll return home and let Mother and Father know of our plans. Oddly enough, Gillian wishes to marry at Sandbourne. She says since it’s to be her home, she would like her new beginning with me to start there.”
“I can understand why,” Nan said. “She has few ties to this place. Did you know she had brothers other than Tristan and that they’ve all passed away?”
Surprised showed on David’s face. “Nay, she has never spoken of them. How many? Why? Was it illness that struck?”
“I don’t know. Speaking of them greatly upset her. I would not bring it
up unless she does, David. She seemed very fragile.”
“I saw her leave the meal early. Is that why?”
“Aye.”
“I will go find her now. When she’s upset, she likes to walk. I will see you later, Nan. Thank you for telling me.”
Once David left, Drew motioned her over. Her friend had split his time at Leventhorpe between helping her in the butts and David in the stables and pasture.
“How about a game of chess? We haven’t played in a good while.”
“You miss losing, Drew?” Nan teased.
“We’ll see about that.”
They played two games, each winning one.
Drew yawned. “It’s getting late and I grow weary. That’s always when you take advantage of me,” he said. “Promise me we’ll play again tomorrow night.”
“Prepare to lose.”
“Oh, you will be challenged beyond your wildest dreams,” Drew promised.
Nan left the great hall and returned to the solar. It still seemed odd to be sleeping in it. She believed Gillian had done most of the cleaning herself since so few servants were visible. Nan had made a point of thanking Gillian and Tristan for her accommodations.
Looking around, she thought that someday Tristan would move into these rooms. Here, he would be surrounded by family and hopefully a wife who would finally make him happy.
Nan wished she could be that woman.
She had fought against her attraction to him. It had helped that they hadn’t spent much time around each other since her arrival at Leventhorpe. But sitting next to him tonight? All the strong feelings had returned in abundance. She realized she needed to leave Thorpe Castle soon before she couldn’t hide it anymore from him—or others.
Unplaiting her hair, she combed through it and left it loose as she did every night. Most women chose not to but Nan loved the feel of the silken locks surrounding her. She removed her cotehardie and left her smock on to sleep in. Drawing back the curtains from the bed, she slipped under the bedclothes.
Sleep failed to come.
Restlessly, she tossed and turned. Mayhap it was the upcoming contest that had her on edge. Or the idea of soon being with Ancel and Margery and their children. Then she finally admitted to herself that it was Earl of Leventhorpe that had her tied into knots. Why she was drawn to a man who was nothing like what she wanted bothered her. Nan hoped to find love, just as her parents and siblings had. She wished to wed a man who loved her as much as she loved him. One who was happy and open with his feelings.
The opposite of Tristan Therolde.
Throwing back the bedclothes in frustration, she decided to go to the kitchen and find something to eat. She had picked at her dinner after Tristan left. Once her empty belly was filled, she might be able to fall asleep.
Nan went to the door and opened it. She hesitated, wondering if she should put on her gypon and pants, and then decided at this late hour no one would be up. Besides, her smock covered her to her ankles. Only her bare feet showed and everyone at Thorpe Castle had seen them by now since she usually had her boots off the entire time she trained with the men.
A few flickering torches in the corridor lighted her way as she stealthily moved along. Then she stopped.
What was that?
A low moan from faraway sounded. Immediately, she thought someone was in pain and needed help. Though she was no healer like her mother or Alys, Nan knew enough to help someone who was sick. She listened again and determined where the groans came from and pushed open the door.
A lone candle burned near the bed in the small chamber. Nan hurried over and realized it was Tristan making the harsh noise. His body moved restlessly as he murmured something she couldn’t understand. Then he began flailing, his arms fighting the bedclothes as he continued to speak nonsense. She perched on the bed next to him and grabbed his wrists, easing his arms down next to his head as she leaned over him, her hair spilling around him.
He awoke, wild-eyed, his hair damp, sweat glistening on his bare chest. She swallowed hard, seeing the magnificent expanse of muscle and fine dusting of tawny hair against it. She released his wrists and sat back up.
“You were having a nightmare,” Nan said. “I heard you from the hallway.”
He must have suffered something terrible in his past for it to haunt his dreams so. Her hand went to his shoulder and squeezed it encouragingly.
“It was nothing,” he said, his voice rough. “Go to bed.”
Nan hated to leave him. He might deny what had occurred while he slept but she knew he was a very troubled soul. Gently, her thumb rubbed his shoulder, wanting to reassure him that he would be all right.
“Please, Tristan, tell me what you dreamed of that upset you so.”
“I would never burden you with something so vile,” he declared. “Some things are best left unsaid.”
“I disagree. If you are troubled, I wish to help you. Speaking of it might—”
“No,” he said harshly. “It’s too gruesome to talk about. Talking of it would change nothing and only give it power over me. I refuse to be a slave to my past. It’s done, Nan. Buried. Leave me be.”
He looked so vulnerable in that moment, as the hurt and pain from whatever had occurred enveloped him. She wanted to help him. Comfort him. And then, from out of nowhere, Nan wished he would touch her. Kiss her again.
As if he read her mind, Tristan’s hand cupped her cheek, his palm hot against her face. His thumb brushed languidly against her bottom lip, sending a rush of desire racing through her. His other hand pushed into her hair and wound a lock around his fingers.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked softly.
Nan shook her head. “No one ever told me that.”
“Everyone should. Because you are.”
Their eyes locked. Nan couldn’t have looked away if she tried. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and made contact with his thumb. Tristan sucked in a quick breath, his eyes now smoldering with heat. He pulled his hands away.
“Go, Nan. Now,” he commanded hoarsely as his eyes darkened in desire.
Her heart pounded rapidly as she continued to stare at him. The air between them crackled with want and need. Nan was afraid what might happen between them would go beyond a kiss if she stayed. She jumped from the bed as if scalded and hurried away back to the solar. Climbing into the now cooled bed, her body burned.
Why couldn’t he love her? Why couldn’t Tristan be the one for her?
Nan pounded her hands into the pillow as hot tears fell.
Chapter 14
The contest was slated to begin an hour after the soldiers had broken their fast. Nan had thought to start it immediately but Diggin came to her on behalf of the other men.
“My lady, we wish to get in a few practice rounds before competition begins.”
Nan looked to Tristan. “I defer to you, my lord.”
“You may have an hour. No more,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord.” Diggin bowed and trotted off to spread the news.
Tristan looked around at the activity in the butts. “They certainly seem eager.”
“Everyone enjoys competing when they have skills to show. I think you need to award some type of prize for the winner.”
“Such as?”
“Whatever you wish. It could be something small, such as your cook making a special sweetmeat.” Nan frowned. “Thinking about that, ’twould be more of a punishment.”
“You do not like the food at Leventhorpe?” he asked, his brows raising.
“Nay,” she said, unable to lie as she laughed.
“What else would you propose?”
She thought a moment. “The winner could be excused from sentry duty for a week. That would cost you nothing. Or you could award a few shillings. Even a crown if you’re feeling particularly generous. Something to spur them on.”
Gillian had joined them. “I could make the winner a new tunic,” she suggested. “I am handy with my needle.”
“Aye, that would be most appreciated, Gillian,” he said.
His sister gave him a sweet smile. “Only if you want me to.”
Nan glared at him and Tristan finally seemed to understand how he should respond. “Then that will be our grand prize for the winner of the bow and arrow competition. The one who wins the crossbow contest will be given a crown.”
“Thank you, Tristan!” Joy filled Gillian’s face. “I am happy to be a part of today. I will go look now at what materials I have so I can tell the winner what color his new tunic will be.”
After she left, Nan said, “You have made her happy by including her. You should do that more often. Seeing the guilty look on your face, I hope that you will take my advice to heart.”
“No one speaks their mind to me as you do, Nan.”
She shrugged. “What are friends for?” she asked casually.
“Is that what we are—friends?” His eyes bore into hers.
Nan thought back to last night in his bedchamber. How he’d warned her to leave.
And how much she had wanted to stay.
“I would hope we are, my lord.”
Drew interrupted them, asking Nan about the targets to be used. She showed him what she wanted done but the entire time they spoke, she sensed Tristan’s eyes burning into her back. She returned to his side and they continued watching the men as they warmed up for the competition.
Finally, she said, “I often wear a bracer on the inside forearm of my bow arm. The bowstring can smack hard when released. The bracer helps guard against bruising.”
“I am familiar with the practice,” Tristan replied.
“It would be a good gesture if you gifted each of your soldiers with a bracer. Most are carved from leather and they can be decorated to show the lord that archer serves. You could use the Therolde family colors or crest.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “’Tis an excellent idea, Nan. Thank you. I will see about it soon.”
