He was irritated. “She has pushed me beyond all tolerance with her foolish behavior,” he said. “It had to be said. I should have said it sooner. It is not often that someone drives me to madness, but she has.”
“Kind of like Lance driving me to madness?”
He had just lifted up the covers to climb in, but he froze and looked at her. After a moment, a sheepish smile crossed his lips and he finished getting into bed.
“Point taken,” he said. “Mayhap I shouldn’t have, but she’s so damn irritating.”
He pulled Catalina into his arms and she cuddled against him. “I do understand such irritation,” she said. “It seems that we both had unwanted attention hounding us.”
He leaned back against the pillow, holding her snugly. “In your case, I completely understand le Kerque’s infatuation,” he said. “I cannot fault the man for his good taste. But in Rebecca’s case, did she truly think there was even a chance between us?”
“She is young,” Catalina said. “You must give her some grace.”
“I will give her the palm of my hand to her backside if she doesn’t stay away.”
“Hereford might have something to say about that.”
“Hereford would agree with me.”
Catalina snorted softly, feeling drowsy now with his heat and their physical activities. With the steady sound of Essien’sheartbeat in her right ear, she drifted off to sleep after inarguably the best night of her life.
And so did he.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
He heard thesniffling.
It was early morning and Jonathan had made his way out to the deserted tournament field. Many of the knights had stored their gear in the stable and he needed his things before the mass competition continued this morning. He happened to be walking by the silent lists when he heard the sniffling. Curiosity had him seeking out the source.
He saw a bright red head sitting in Lady Hereford’s seat.
It was Rebecca.
She had a kerchief in her hand, wiping her nose delicately as she sniffled and quietly wept. Jonathan thought of simply slipping away, unnoticed, but a sad young woman weeping alone tugged at him. He didn’t have any sisters, but he liked to think of himself as a man sensitive to a woman’s fragile emotions. Of course, he hadn’t thought that way the evening of the feast when he’d spanked Rebecca soundly for her behavior, but he hated to see a fiery young woman’s spirit broken. He rather liked fiery young women when they weren’t throwing cherries or pebbles at him.
With a sigh, perhaps of regret, he stepped up into the lists.
“My lady?” he said quietly. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Startled, Rebecca looked at him for a brief moment before quickly turning away. “Go away, Jonathan de Wolfe,” she said angrily. “You are not welcome here.”
He paused a few feet away, but he didn’t leave as ordered. “I come in peace,” he said gently. “Is there something I may do for you? A scoundrel I must slay?”
She sobbed. “Aye!” she said. “You can slay Essien!”
Jonathan fought off a smile. “Did he offend you?”
She looked at him. “He… he was horrible to me!” she said angrily. “He told me he did not even like me and that no man would want me!”
Jonathan genuinely had to hold back guffaws of laughter.Well done, Essien,he thought. “And when did he tell you this?”
“Just now,” she said, jabbing a finger in the direction of the keep. “He stayed the night in our keep, on the good graces of my father, I might add, but still had the audacity to insult me.”
“Then why do you not tell your father?”
She seemed to back down a little. “Because… because he is on Essien’s side,” she said, turning away again and putting her kerchief to her nose. “He is always on everyone’s side but mine.”
Jonathan knew that wasn’t true. He knew what a nuisance Rebecca had been making of herself since the tournament began and even before that. He knew she’d pitched a tantrum after Essien’s marriage, carrying on in the bailey for all to see because she believed herself in love with the man. The de Lohr brothers could not have been more ashamed about it. She was silly and ridiculous, that was true, but Jonathan was also under the opinion that people like Rebecca made life exciting. Without people like that, life would be boring, indeed.
