’Twas then he noticed a familiar crossbow in her grasp. He laughed in understanding as he caught her close and lifted her from the ground.
“’Twas you,” he said with pride and love.
“Me,” she said, her eyes shining. “And Lady Haynesdale. They retrieved your crossbow and granted it to me.”
“And you are more of a huntress than I realized.”
“Are you disappointed, sir?”
“Not a whit.” They smiled at each other, relief flooding through Ramsay with vigor.
“I might have lost you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“It had to be done.”
“But you need not so fight again,” she said with urgency. “I would not have you be so reckless with your life.”
Ramsay chuckled even as he held her tightly. He brushed his mouth across hers, tasting her fear and wanting only to reassure her. When she whispered his name again, he speared his fingers into her hair and kissed her soundly. She melted against him, welcoming his embrace and he was vaguely aware of applause all around them.
For Ramsay, there was only his lady Evangeline, and it would always be thus. He cared for naught else in all the world, and his sole hope was that he could spend the rest of his days ensuring that she had no doubt of that truth.
But the course of love did not yet run true.
Chapter 14
Though much had been resolved, there were still details Evangeline needed to hear from her champion. She waited with impatience as he retreated with Hugues to remove his armor and bathe, though she noticed that he seemed to favor his leg when he left the field.
A table was already being set in the field and benches gathered around it. Rufus had been carried to the chapel, and seemingly was not missed overmuch. The villagers, it seemed, did not regret his loss, for they celebrated his demise under the guise of paying tribute to Ramsay. Lady Haynesdale brought her a coronet of daisies, and Evangeline donned it with a smile.
When Ramsay reappeared in his tabard and chausses, garbed as a knight though he was not armored, it seemed there was not sufficient air in Scotland for Evangeline. His hair was damp upon his brow and he had shaved away his beard, which only made his eyes appear more blue. Her token was still bound around his upper arm. He caught her gaze and she could not look away, snared by the sight of his slow-dawning smile.
Aye, he was a warrior through and through, but a noble knight as well, a man who put his own welfare at risk in her defense, a man she trusted beyond all others. He could heat her to her toes with a glance or a caress, and she would never tire of her surety and conviction.
She was utterly convinced that he was the sole man for her, but she had to know the tale of Lady Alienor.
He came to sit beside her at her gesture, and accepted a cup of ale from Hugues. It seemed that others recognized Evangeline’s desire to be alone with Ramsay, for soon they were without company.
Save each other.
“Tell me of her,” Evangeline invited.
“Who?” he asked, glancing her way, but she saw in the vivid hue of his eyes that he already understood.
Evangeline held out her hand with the sapphire ring and watched him sober. “You recognized it immediately.”
“I could not believe he had it.” He grimaced. “I feared the import of it being in his possession.”
“What import?”
“That he had killed Alienor, or he was otherwise responsible for her demise.”
She pulled off the ring and Ramsay accepted it from her with a moment’s hesitation, turning it before them so that it reflected the sunlight coming through the silk tent.
“She said it was a Roman stone,” he said quietly, apparently fascinated by it.
Evangeline feared his pensive mood meant that Alienor was yet queen of his heart. It had never been within her to be a second choice or consolation and she might have despised her own vanity in that moment if it had not been fading quickly. Would she surrender that pride to be with Ramsay? Aye, she would. She loved him enough to accept whatever he offered her.
“Can you imagine what it has witnessed in a millennium and a half?” he asked.
