It was true enough; and seemed a matter too trifling to take offence at.
“That is thoughtful,” he said instead.
Tristan clapped him on the shoulder. “I look forward to getting to know you better, Adam Hawker.”
And with that, Lord Tristan de Neville strode from the room.
Sometime later, Adam was dressed in finery such as he had never before seen. There was more golden thread woven into his dark blue tunic than could be found in the whole of Kielder Castle. He had combed his hair and finally shaved the stubble from his cheeks. But still he lingered in his chamber, lacking the courage to step into the keep.
Then he remembered that courage was the key trait that might endear him to the Earl of Wolvesley, and he all but jogged down the torch-lit corridor toward the sweeping staircase. Strains of music caught his ear as soon as he turned the corner. Then came laughter, and tempting aromas of roasted meat andgarlic. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, his stomach was audibly rumbling.
A liveried manservant stood in the marbled entrance hall, apparently waiting for him. He recognized the slight but genuine smile of the man who had delivered his parcel of clothing.
“Sir Adam, the family is waiting in the great hall.”
Adam stilled. He could not get through this night on any false pretenses. “I am Adam,” he said, “Not Sir Adam.”
The man bowed, not appearing put out in any way. “My apologies.”
“There is naught to forgive.” Adam took a breath, wishing he had the familiar weight of a sword against his hip to steady his nerves. “May I ask your name?”
“Alfred. I have served the de Nevilles since I was a lad.”
“Then you are most likely better equipped for this occasion than I am.” Adam’s toe tapped against the marble floor. “Do you have any tips?”
“None that you will need.” Alfred flashed him a reassuring smile. “Shall I show you the way?”
“I believe I can find it well enough.” Adam nodded. “But thank you.”
But he regretted dismissing the offer of help as he passed along the high-ceilinged corridor toward the great hall. Not because there was any danger of becoming lost—the music called him onward like a beacon atop the cliffs—but because with Alfred at his side, there was less chance that he might turn tail and run away.
Breathing deeply, he squeezed his hands into fists and tried to take control of his scrambled thoughts. He had stood on the ramparts of Kielder Castle and faced legions of marauding soldiers with less qualms than he felt on passing through the high double doors.
At once he was met with such brightness and bustle, that he could only stand and blink until his eyes made sense of the scene.
The great hall at Wolvesley was vast, studded with pillars and lit with blazing candelabras which dangled from the vaulted ceiling. A trio of musicians played a lively jig in one corner, and a host of liveried men-at-arms swarmed around trestle tables which had been laid out across the stone-flagged floor. Small groups of brightly dressed ladies twirled their fans and threw him inviting glances, but he had already found the only woman he sought.
Esme sat at a long table on the high dais, surrounded by her family. When her blue eyes met his, all his worries melted away.
She stood abruptly and beckoned him forward, smiling happily as she waited for him to climb the steps.
“I have saved you a seat,” she declared. “You already know everyone, so I shan’t bother with introductions.”
Adam’s pulse was pounding once again, but as he glanced over the line of golden-haired de Nevilles and saw their welcoming smiles, he was reassured.
“Sit,” Esme urged, returning to her own chair and nibbling at a delicious looking tartlet.
Adam’s chair was positioned between Esme and Jonah. Beside Esme, sat Morwenna, who gave him a little wave as he lowered himself down. The chair next to the countess was high-backed, elaborately carved, and empty. Tristan and Mirrie sat at the other end of the table, both deep in conversation. Adam saw the way Tristan gazed into his wife’s eyes and remembered how he had spoken of her with such fondness.
Esme had listed courage, honesty and true love as the traits most admired by her family.
From what he could see, she had spoken the truth.
She covered her hand with his, sending searing heat all the way through his body.
“Do not worry,” she said in a loud whisper.
“I fancy he will worry less if you do not hold his hand in full public view,” Jonah drawled.
