“Nay.He intended to return to the tourneys near Paris.I have no doubt he will fare well and gain the attention of a pretty heiress.”Tulley did not appear to be concerned, though Quinn had a hundred questions about his younger brother.The older lord sniffed the air with appreciation.“Is that the soup at last?”
There was naught more tragic,in Berthe’s view, than catching the eye of a man of merit then losing it again.Since Bayard had given her the vial of perfume, she had been unable to think of any man other than him.If the scent within it was possessed of power, though, it was fickle.For Bayard appeared to have no further interest in her—indeed, he had scarce spoken to her since that evening—while his companion, Niall MacGillivray, could not be avoided.He taunted her in the kitchens, when she was en route to serve her lady, when she passed through the hall and when she was in the gardens.Each time she turned around, there was Sir Niall, always ready with a compliment or a pretty word, not a one of them worth the trouble of listening.
And she had thought Bayard a rogue.The word might have been invented to refer to this knight, with his seemingly endless appetite for charming women.Even when he seemed bent upon seducing her, Berthe saw his gaze drift over her shoulder when another maiden passed by.His fulsome praise was without merit.His flattery was as dust for its worth and nigh as plentiful.
If Bayard had deigned to speak with her, she might have granted him more encouragement than once she had.But he was always with Lord Quinn or taking an errand for him, following his lord’s dictate or tending his steed.He seemed most serious since the arrival of their companions, and while Berthe appreciated this side of his nature, she would have liked more of his attention.It was no wonder his armor shone so brilliantly, for he was always polishing it, though she thought that was the task of a squire.
She had hoped to speak to him on the ride to Sayerne, but he had never so much as glanced her way in the bailey of Annossy.She had ridden alongside Sir Niall in the vanguard, hoping that might vex Bayard into speaking with her, but he did not appear to have noticed.And now, Sir Niall was encouraged that his pursuit of her might bear fruit.She had been glad when he had ridden to hunt with Lord Quinn at first light—though still Bayard had eluded her company all the day long.
To her surprise—and relief—Sir Niall had taken one look at the Lord de Tulley’s niece and appeared to have forgotten all others in the hall.He even seemed to have forgotten how to speak, for no pretty compliments fell from his tongue.He simply stared at the maiden and it had only been the tale of the success of their companion in wedding Lord Quinn’s sister that had recalled him to his senses.
A fellow rogue, apparently, but one Berthe hoped was reformed.
The men then went to wash before the meal, and Berthe wondered if Lord de Tulley would consume it all before their return.
Lady Heloise could not seem to tear her gaze away from Sir Niall as he left.“Knights,” she whispered to her maid.
Sir Niall for his part, turned in the portal to grant her a charming smile and a bow.
Berthe heard the lady’s sigh of yearning.
She did not tell Tulley’s niece that Sir Niall could never be the knight of her imagination.He would never be content with one woman for more than a night.
If even that long.
For her part, she watched Bayard, wishing he would glance her way again.She would not so waste the opportunity if it came once more.
But he was striding after Sir Niall, his brow dark.
Berthe followed, intrigued.
Sir Niall halted when Bayard tapped him on the shoulder.He pivoted to find Bayard in his path.
“You!”Bayard said, pointing at Niall with such annoyance that Berthe was intrigued.
“Me,” Niall replied with a smile, gesturing to himself.He held up his hands, as if inviting all to admire him.“One glance and the lady is nigh mine.This will be a conquest of the heart to eclipse all others.”
“Make no jest of this,” Bayard fumed.“You treat a maiden with indignity and you think the matter no more than a moment’s amusement.”
Niall flicked a glance toward the hall.“I treat no lady with indignity,” he began, but Bayard strode closer and shook a finger beneath his nose.
“I speak of Berthe,” he growled and she felt her heart flutter.
“Berthe?”Sir Niall echoed, as if he had forgotten her existence.
“Aye,Berthe,” Bayard said with force.“All these months, you have courted her and tried to seduce her.I stood back when she seemed to welcome your attention...”
“As well you should,” Niall replied, folding his arms across his chest.“A wise man always cedes to greater expertise.”
“Greater expertise?”
“Aye.All know that I am the champion on the field of love.You might have watched more closely and learned something.”Sir Niall shook his head.“But that one, that maid, she is a frosty one.No man will ever slip between her thighs.”
“While you think Tulley’s niece will welcome you?”Bayard retorted.
Sir Niall smiled.“Perhaps I will wed her with Tulley’s blessing.If Rolfe can win that man to his side, it clearly can be accomplished with charm and persistence.Rolfe has no more a measure of either than I do.”
“And what of Berthe?”
