Harald nodded. “My daughter, Catalina, and her children,” he said. “We’ve come to see her betrothed compete in the finals this morn.”
Dustin’s smile faded a little. She knew all about the betrothal of Essien to Lord Eckington’s daughter because her husband had told her last night. She’d simply never met Harald’s daughterbefore. But Rebecca didn’t know about the betrothal and Dustin didn’t particularly want her to hear about it. At least, not at the start of a new day because it would surely ruin it for her and, consequently, probably everyone around her when Rebecca reacted to the news. The girl had never been subtle. Therefore, she tried to veer away from the subject a little.
“And it is a glorious day for such competition,” Dustin said, mostly to Catalina. “We’ve not met, my lady, but your father is a good friend of my husband’s. We are delighted to have you here today. And your young ladies, of course.”
Catalina smiled at the woman, who seemed genuinely kind. “Thank you, my lady,” she said. “We are very happy to be here. I was just saying to my father that I do not ever think I’ve seen a tournament final. Sadly, my experience with tournaments is rather limited.”
Dustin winked at her. “Then you are in for some excitement today,” she said. Then she indicated the young women sitting nearest her. “These are my daughters—Olivia, Rebecca, Brielle, and Christin.”
The four women looked over and politely acknowledged Catalina, who smiled and briefly waved. The daughters of Christopher and Dustin all looked quite different from each other, but the shape of their eyes was very nearly the same. Olivia, the youngest at eight or nine years of age, had blonde hair and blue eyes, while Rebecca, about seven years older, had flaming red hair and big gray eyes. Brielle, sitting next to Rebecca, was quite a bit older than the two younger women and had a dark-haired toddler lying on her shoulder, while Christin, around the same age as Brielle, was elegant with her nearly black hair and gray eyes. She, too, had children around her, demanding her attention, but she gave them a few coins and sent them off to have some peace. Only then did she turn to Catalina and properly greet her.
“I see that your children are far better behaved than the animals my sister and I have raised,” she said, giggling. “Have they been enjoying the tournament?”
Catalina smiled as Ines, seeing that a woman was speaking to her mother, sat up in her lap. “So far,” she said, pushing Ines’s hair out of her eyes. “We saw some dogs who were trained to do tricks. That was delightful.”
“Of course,” Christin said. “The dancing dogs. My younger children love to see them, too. The man lives not far from here and he goes around to villages, performing for coin. Last year, on my younger son’s day of birth, he requested those very dogs. We had them for the entire day.”
“I want to see the dogs!” Ines suddenly piped up. “Mama, may I see the dogs?”
“Not now,” Catalina told her. “We are going to see horses in a moment. We will see the dogs after, I promise.”
Ines would have to be satisfied. She lay back down in her mother’s arms and Catalina rolled her eyes at Christin, a silent gesture indicating that a crisis had been averted. Christin grinned, understanding that it was time to change the subject away from dancing dogs and back to the tournament field.
“It will be very exciting today,” she said. “Brie’s husband is riding in this round against Rolf Deinhold.”
Catalina had no idea who that was, but she smiled anyway. “I am sorry that I do not recognize the names.”
Brielle turned her head slightly, over the top of her dozing toddler. “My husband is Cassian de Velt,” she said. “He goes by the name of the Dark Conqueror on the tournament field. He used to ride the circuit before we were married. His opponent is a Teutonic knight who calls himself the Sword of Tyr. He is quite good and, unfortunately, he will be out for blood against my family because my dear sister insulted him last night. Didn’t you, Bebe?”
Hearing her nickname, Rebecca flipped that glorious hair back over her shoulder. “He should not have been so sensitive,” she said indignantly. “Only women are so sensitive. It was just fruit. It is not like I launched bolts at the man.”
Brielle snorted at her silly younger sister. She wasn’t like Brielle or Christin, accomplished women in their own right. In the de Lohr family, the two older girls were, in fact, the eldest children, followed by a gaggle of boys. Rebecca was born in the middle of the boys and Olivia Charlotte, the fourth sister, was the youngest of the group. There were fourteen years between Rebecca and Brielle, fifteen years between Rebecca and Christin, and then eight years between Rebecca and Olivia Charlotte. Having no sisters close in age, Rebecca had been somewhat on her own growing up. Left to her own devices, she was strong, bold, sassy, and most definitely man-crazy. Brielle and Christin loved her, but they didn’t understand her half the time. Throwing cherries at a respected knight was one of those things they just didn’t grasp.
And Rebecca knew it.
“He may have been sensitive, but you were rude,” Christin said. “You had better hope he does not take it out on Cassian, because if he does, Papa will have something to say to you about it.”
Rebecca’s chin was up defiantly. “You cannot blame me if Cass falls from his horse,” she said, but she knew she was without a leg to stand on. “Look! The competitors are coming to the field. And there’s Essien!”
She abruptly jumped to her feet and began waving at him, trying to catch his attention, while Catalina looked at the young woman with surprise and some puzzlement. Because Rebecca was now blocking her view of the field, she had to look around her to see what the fuss was about.
“Bebe, sit down,” Dustin scolded quietly. “Stop making a spectacle out of yourself.”
Rebecca sat down, but she wasn’t happy about it. “I bought him a favor,” she said, pulling a small silk kerchief from her sleeve. “I want to give it to him.”
“Sit,” Dustin commanded. “Just…sit.”
Rebecca listened, but only for a moment. Essien came onto the field to the roar of the crowd, making a pass in front of the lists, and Rebecca bolted to her feet again, waving the silk kerchief and calling his name. Much to her delight, he came to the front of the lists, right where she was sitting, and pointed a finger at her.
Or so she thought.
“My lady,” he said, muffled through his lowered visor. “I shall win this tournament for you!”
Rebecca was stumbling all over herself trying to climb over the people in front of her in order to reach Essien. But Dustin held her back, commanding her to sit yet again, which Rebecca didn’t take kindly to. She began to fight with her mother. As they argued, Essien called out again.
“Lady de Barenton!” he said loudly. “Your favor shall bring me great luck on this day. I thank you for it, my fair beauty.”
With that, he pulled forth the blue ribbon that Catalina had given him. He rubbed it against his metal visor, right where his cheek was located, before pushing it back under his tunic. Spinning his horse around, he thundered back toward his starting point at the western end of the guides.
