by Julia Latham
She couldn’t quite catch her breath. “So the priest did you a favor. I now understand why your body is so impressive.”
He said nothing, only leaned down as if to kiss her.
She turned away, escaping the enticement of his embrace. “Nay, Lord Bannaster, my people are expecting me for the Christmas feast.”
He caught her hand, forcing her to turn back to him.
“Lord Bannaster,” he echoed dismissively. “Say my Christian name.”
She wondered why it was so important to him. “Very well—Tom. It seems strange to say it, when you were ‘Bannaster’ in my head for so long.”
“For so long? It has not even been a fortnight.”
She smiled to cover what could have been a terrible mistake. “When you were in that dungeon, it seemed like forever.”
He grinned. “Guilt?”
“Never.” She tugged her hand away. “Be very careful when you leave. I cannot have anyone seeing you. I will follow after a decent amount of time has passed.”
“One kiss.”
“Go!” she said sternly, pointing at the door.
His face full of exaggerated disappointment, he opened the door carefully, looked both ways, and then left.
Diana closed her eyes and sank down onto a bench. She had just made everything more complicated. And she hadn’t meant to! When Tom touched her, she could think of nothing else—not the League, not her future unencumbered by a husband—but how he made her feel, how much she wanted to pleasure him in return.
But…a buried part of her mind worried that she’d given in to his seduction only to best her sister. She hugged herself, a thousand thoughts darting through her brain. Nay, Diana had had his attention from the moment she’d imprisoned him, and Cicely had nothing to do with it.
She tipped her head back with a groan. He was a good man. She had never forgotten the shocked gratitude she’d felt when he’d allowed her to escape from his dead brother’s bedchamber. He had taken the blame, suffering for what she’d done to protect her, a stranger.
And now she was spying on him in secret, betraying him.
But was it a betrayal, if she was defending him to those who did not trust him? Perhaps she could be the one to redeem him in the king’s eyes! Telling herself to feel relieved, rather than worried, Diana took out her wax tablet and began to compose her ideas.
Cicely could not believe her eyes. She stepped back into a garderobe to avoid Lord Bannaster, who was coming down the corridor that led to her sister’s bedchamber. She pressed herself to the wall until he’d passed, telling herself it meant nothing. There were other chambers, including her own, on this floor.
But his own bedchamber was above them, and there was no reason for him to be here. Yet Diana was not in the great hall.
In that brief moment, she’d seen his face, saw the lightness in his step.
What was happening?
Chapter 16
“A New Year’s Day tournament?” Tom said two days later, when Diana proposed it.
She nodded cheerfully, staring down the head table at the midday meal, meeting her sister’s suspicious eyes last.
“Cicely,” Diana continued, “the weather has been mild for the Christmas holiday. The traveling would not be difficult. Our grooms can deliver the invitations. Surely the knights from the surrounding countryside would like a challenge. We can make it last only a day, so that the competitors can arrive the day before, compete the next, then return home to their families the following morn.” And not eat so much of their food supplies, she thought.
She had seen Cicely’s eyes alight when she’d mentioned “knights.”
“But, Diana,” Cicely said, “our brother has always said that he must be consulted if we wish to do anything beyond the ordinary here at his keep.”
Diana smiled confidently. “But it will take so long to reach him, and the holiday only lasts through Twelfth Night. He will understand.”
For once the two sisters agreed with each other. Cicely returned her smile. “Aye, he will. And ’tis not as if we’ve ever disobeyed him before.”
At least this response was better than the coolness Diana had faced the last several days. Though Diana had been careful to keep her distance from Tom, lest her longing gaze betray her, Cicely seemed to sense something amiss. Conversations between the sisters had grown even more strained.
Diana knew that Tom had outwardly continued to spend time with both of them in the same manner. Just this morn, after he’d returned from the tiltyard, he’d taken Cicely on a long walk.
Diana had told herself this was a good thing. Whatever happened between her and Tom, she did not want to face Cicely’s wrath until Diana could understand her own intentions.
And so far, Diana had no clue about what she meant to do. She had made it a point to never be alone with Tom. She felt confused and uncertain, things she was not used to feeling. What was their relationship supposed to be? Were they simply using each other physically? And if that were so, they could not allow it to go on, not and risk the possibility of conceiving a child.
Diana shuddered, imagining Archie’s reaction to that disgrace. She would be banished from yet another home.
But the missive to the League was written, and the only way to see it safely into the correct hands at this time of the year was to have a tournament, where strangers would be expected to attend. The Bladesmen could easily participate, giving them a reason to be here. Then her mission would be finished.
But after that, if she expected a fresh start between her and Tom, she was fooling herself. With all the secrets that existed, how could they trust each other?
For the last two days, as she’d stayed away from him, she had wondered how he’d felt about her distance after their intimacy. But he’d been nothing but patient, not sneaking into her bedchamber, or trying to find another way to be alone with her.
But she could sense his focus on her, knew when he felt free to look at her unobtrusively. She could feel the force of his gaze like a touch that smoldered within her, ready to ignite. She knew what he wanted, and he was just waiting for her to make her decision.
He would not force her, would not persuade her. Part of her wished he would. But she understood that she was just looking for an excuse to blame him rather than herself.
For he was all she could think about. If they were training at the same time on the tiltyard, she could barely concentrate on her opponent, so drawn was she to watching Tom fight. He had an aggressive, yet quick style of attack that always left his challenger one step behind.
She’d sparred with him in bed; now she wanted to compete against him with the skills she’d spent a lifetime learning, where she felt more confident. Because a woman’s skills did not come so easily to her.
Yet she was leery of training with him before her own men. It was hard enough hiding her emotions in the great hall. On the tiltyard, she might lose focus, be too distracted to pit her skills against his, to triumph over him, or be defeated.
But while she readied for the tournament, to begin four days hence, she kept her distance, not wanting to be distracted.
Two days before the tournament, Diana heard a quick knock on her door late in the evening, and put down the embroidery she’d been making a mess of. She tensed with excitement and worry, imagining Tom filling the doorway. What would she say to him? What would she do if he swept her into his arms—
But Joan scurried into her bedchamber, closing the door behind her. Diana knew a deep disappointment that worried her.
The maidservant leaned back against the door and took a breath, closing her eyes.
“Did you need to run?” Diana asked, smiling.
Joan shook her head. “Nay, mistress, but I seldom leave the kitchens, and when I do, I feel the need for quickness.”
Diana sobered. “Joan, you know you have my apologies. When Tom—Bannaster leaves, you shall be free again. But…”
“Aye, I know, if he sees and recognizes me, it will n
ot go well for you and Mary.”
“Nor you, Joan, and the two of you concern me the most.” Diana sighed and leaned on the edge of her bed. The lies never seemed to end.
“I came because I thought ye should know there’s been talk among your people,” Joan said, speaking almost hesitantly.
“Talk?” Diana responded, curious.
“Before Christmas, Lord Bannaster spent time equally between you and Mistress Cicely. But since then…well, folks are upset on your behalf, thinkin’ he’s neglectin’ you in favor of your sister.”
Diana barely kept herself from laughing in dismay, remembering Tom’s form of “neglect.”
“I know what ye’re thinkin’,” Joan hurried on before Diana could speak. “Ye didn’t want his attention anyway, not after…well, ye know, what we did to him.”
Diana nodded, trying to be solemn. “I know.”
“And if ye just hoped he’d choose your sister and be done with it, then this would be fine. But ye want him to leave, do ye not?”
More lies, Diana thought. She could not tell Joan—or Mary—what had happened between her and Tom. “You bring up a valid point, Joan. I cannot have people begin to question his lordship’s conduct. And aye, he needs to leave—without Cicely.”
Joan nodded and reached for the door latch. “I’ll return to me duties, mistress.”
“My thanks,” Diana said, reaching the door in time to touch the maidservant’s shoulder. “You’ve been a good friend, one who does not deserve this forced solitude.”
Joan blushed. “I don’t mind, mistress. I’ll never forget ye savin’ me, when I had no one.”
When the girl had gone, Diana resolved to do better to keep her people’s suspicions at bay.
The next day, the castle was in a flurry of excitement, preparing food for dozens of knights and soldiers and any family who might attend. Rooms were aired out; pallets were laid so the bedchambers could fit several people each.
At the midday meal, Diana took a deep breath and looked past Cicely to Tom. “My lord, would you grant me the favor of examining the lists and the tiltyard, so that you may give me your expertise?” Before he could answer, Diana said to her sister, “You did have his attention in the lady’s garden this morn.”
Diana hadn’t been able to imagine what they’d been talking about, sitting on blankets on the cold stone bench. But she’d glimpsed Cicely pointing to the various plants, and she wondered if her sister had been expounding on her knowledge of the flowers that slept until spring.
“Very well,” Cicely said primly. “The maidservants have need of me in the sewing chamber. We’re almost finished with the banners that will decorate the castle,” she said proudly to Tom.
“I look forward to seeing them,” he said.
Then he looked back at Diana, who felt her stomach flip upside down. This is what she’d been avoiding for so many days. How long could she keep this polite façade believable?
After retrieving their cloaks, they walked outside together, their breaths puffing before them. The day was gray with the threat of snow, but rather today than tomorrow, when their tournament would begin.
Diana felt the stares of many, but when she glanced around, people quickly acted busy.
“I am surprised at your request for my presence,” he said quietly, looking ahead rather than at her. “You have been avoiding me.”
“Aye, ’tis true,” she murmured.
“Yet you could not miss the way your sister looked at you just now.”
“I suspect she is suspicious about my motives. But it is the rest of my people we also need to placate.” She told him of Joan’s visit.
“So I am allowed your attention, for everyone else’s sake?”
She glanced at him, but she could read no emotion on his face. “I…feel confused.”
“Well, I do not,” he said.
They came to a stop on the far side of the gatehouse, just outside the castle. The villagers had done an impressive job setting up lists for riders to joust against each other, complete with benches for spectators.
In that moment of solitary stillness, where it was just the two of them, he murmured, “I am not confused. All I can think is that I want to hold you and taste you—everywhere.”
She shuddered and closed her eyes. “Your kisses are—”
“I have barely begun to show you kisses, sweetling.”
Her mind, always so active, now churned through imagined events. As if it hadn’t been difficult enough to forget the way his hands pleasured her, or his body fit so rightly to hers. But now his tongue…
“I have so much to do,” she found herself saying, as if from a great distance.
Slyly, he said, “But will not your people wonder why we leave each other so quickly?”
She felt like she was breathing too quickly, as if she couldn’t get enough air.
“Let us continue our walk,” he said, beginning to amble toward the lists.
She had no choice but to follow him. But inside her seethed a wealth of confusing emotions, as she wondered how she was supposed to feel about him. How was this supposed to end?
Did she want it to end?
During the following day, New Year’s Eve, Tom spent little time with Diana. Competitors arrived for the small tournament, sometimes on horseback by twos and threes, and other times with family following behind in carts. Cicely dealt well with the ladies, showing them to their chambers, inviting them to embroider with her near the warmth of the large hearth in the great hall. Once Tom had overheard Cicely discovering the marital state of the men in attendance, and he had to smile. He understood her urgency, since she lived in a place as remote as Kirkby Keep. Though she would not be the woman for him, he thought if she were kept happy, she would make a man a good wife. It was a shame her foolish brother did not see that. But then Cicely saw Tom lingering near, and her radiant smile jolted him. He was still her primary target.
Diana dealt with the men, and Tom found himself remaining on the fringes of whatever group she was with. It was obvious that many of these men were her neighbors, and had known her for several years. More than one man asked what competition she would be entering, playfully suggesting he did not want to go up against her.
Other men, strangers, stared at Diana with expressions ranging from displeasure to shock to curiosity. Tom received a few of those stares himself, when his identity was made known.
But he was curious about Diana, too, just like some of the other competitors. He assumed that her skill at a tournament had probably won her the attention of the League. The last few days, he’d found himself forgetting his peril where the League was concerned, all because of his preoccupation with Diana. But at a tournament full of Yorkshire men, most of whom he did not know, would there be some from the League? All he could do was remain on guard. He was used to living his life that way, even though his title and relation to the king usually protected him.
Would Diana know if some of her guests were Bladesmen? He could not believe that she wished him ill. But how well did he really know her?
Alone in her bedchamber late that night, Diana reflected with satisfaction on the first day. Among the many strangers present, one or two were surely from the League. They had been ready for her call to tournament. Her encoded message to them was already hidden within the stables, a place agreed on before hand, available to all, and well marked in a way that only a Bladesman would recognize.
After supper, the music had seemed to shake the very foundations of the old keep. Her guests danced with abandon, joining hands and moving through complicated dances. When Tom had pulled Diana into a dance, she could hardly protest. Soon she’d been laughing as he’d lifted her into the air. His hands had been so strong that she’d felt as safe as a bird in flight. The only thing that had marred her enjoyment was knowing that Mary had come down with a winter cold, and had gone to bed early.
Suddenly, Diana’s door was thrown open, and Cicely entered, fists on her hips.
&
nbsp; Diana’s feeling of accomplishment faded away on a sigh. “Aye, Cicely?”
“You danced with Lord Bannaster more than I did,” she said coldly.
With a tired voice, Diana said, “It was not intentional.”
“And I did not like the way you stared at him! What do you want people to think?”
“That I want my guests to enjoy themselves. And he is our guest, Cicely, not simply your plaything.”
She took a step forward. “I am going to win him.”
“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Diana asked in disbelief. She was so surprised and frustrated that she spoke without thinking. “Do you not understand, Cicely? He is not the right man for you. I have told you how he tried to force a woman to marry, and you did not care. But he has also long been suspected of his brother’s murder. Is that the kind of man you want?”
No sooner had the words left Diana’s mouth, than she wished she could call them back. How could she have used a crime she herself had committed to make Tom look bad?
Aye, it was to Cicely, but that did not give Diana the right to treat him as others did, as if she only gossiped. And during the commotion of arriving guests, she had seen more than one man’s scowl upon hearing that Viscount Bannaster was in attendance.
Cicely only lifted her chin with determination. “I know what kind of man Lord Bannaster is. And do you think I have no ears, that I would not listen and understand everything about him? I also had heard what kind of man his brother was. It sounds as if he deserved to die—although I do not think Lord Bannaster capable of such a deed.”
Nay, but I am, Diana thought sadly.
“I want my time with him, Diana,” Cicely was saying. “My friends are here, and they will expect it.”
“Just go,” Diana said, pointing to the door. “I will be so busy that you will be able to do as you please.”
Cicely nodded and marched out the door. Diana sank down on the bed. Her secrets were weighing on her, and were beginning to feel unbearable. But she was so afraid of what would happen, should the truth come out.
