But those were not the only words echoing in her head. Her cheeks heated every time she thought of the way he’d spoken to her. The things he’d said. The things he’d done.
She could still feel the warm pressure of his hand between her legs as her bottom pressed against the steely column of his manhood. Could he really...?
Aye, she knew he could. Just as she also knew he was right: she would like it. She suspected she would like anything and everything he did to her.
Blast him for confusing her! For distracting her. For trying to turn her from her course. How was she supposed to think of anything else when all she could think about was his naughty words and wicked promises?
She wanted him—there was no denying that. But he was wrong if he thought it was enough to make her happy. She would never be happy with the life he proposed—one where she would be ostracized from many of the other nobles. Where the money she’d hidden wouldn’t be enough to keep them from the threat of poverty. Where she would be tucked away in some small cottage in a small village with nothing to do. She would go mad.
Randolph and she were perfectly suited. They would get along well enough. And Elizabeth was determined to prove it. For the first time since arriving in Edinburgh she threw herself wholeheartedly into getting to know him better and enjoying the city, which included Sunday’s outing to the market after mass.
Elizabeth was aware of the number of eyes that followed her and Izzie as they made their way through the crowded stalls. It wasn’t surprising, given their escort. She imagined it wasn’t often that a knight in full mail and arms with entourage strode through mercat cross in Edinburgh. That it was the king’s nephew made it all the more unusual, and the excited whispers buzzed through the crowd like a hive of bees. But Elizabeth paid them no mind; she was having too much fun.
It had been a glorious morning, in large part due to Randolph. So far he’d stuffed them full of pies and tarts, bought them more ribbons than they could wear in a lifetime, and made them laugh as he jested more than bargained with the merchants.
Surprisingly, even Izzie seemed to be having a good time. She’d barely spoken two words to Elizabeth when she’d returned from her ride to the park. Deciding that she would rather not be questioned about her own activities that day, Elizabeth hadn’t asked what went wrong. Suffice it to say, Izzie and Randolph weren’t going to be friends. Elizabeth had been surprised when Izzie had agreed to come along with her today—as had Randolph upon seeing her. But as the day went on, the sunshine and festive atmosphere worked its magic, and whatever tension she’d sensed between them had faded away.
The group stopped to watch a merchant selling apples juggle the fruit high up in the air, the women clapping each time he added an additional piece. When he finally missed at eight, Randolph insisted on buying the whole basket and had one of his men take it back to camp.
“I think I smell plum tarts up ahead,” he said as they ambled away from the applemonger.
Both women groaned. “I couldn’t eat another bite,” Elizabeth said.
“Nor could I,” Izzie added, putting a hand over her stomach. “I will not eat another sweet for a week.”
Randolph and Elizabeth exchanged a glance and smiled. They both knew what a sweet tooth Izzie had. She would probably be raiding the monks’ kitchens in a few hours.
“Well, if not more tarts, perhaps we can find something else you might like?”
He had a knowing smile on his face as he stopped before a jewelry merchant. As Sir Thomas had come straight from the siege camp, he had been carrying his helm under his arm, but he put it down on one of the tables to pick up a cameo brooch. He said something to the merchant she could not hear, and the man appeared very excited when he nodded and pulled something out of the purse he wore at his waist.
It was a bracelet. A very beautiful one. The thick rope of gold was designed in an intricate woven pattern. Every half inch or so was a large stone—alternating rubies and garnets.
Randolph held it out for her approval. “How about this?”
Elizabeth’s stomach dropped with something suspiciously like dread. Her heart started to pound. “I couldn’t,” she said. “It’s much too fine.”
“Nonsense. It is nothing.”
Nothing to him could feed a family for a year or two—maybe longer. But it wasn’t just the cost, it was what it signified. A bracelet of gold and precious stones was not a ribbon or a tart. There was only one occasion on which it was acceptable to give an unmarried woman this kind of jewelry, and that was on a betrothal or wedding. Indeed, the giving of jewelry was expected to befit the new bride-to-be’s standing.
Sir Thomas was essentially making a public declaration of his intentions.
The irony of him choosing a bracelet did not escape her.
Elizabeth wanted to refuse, but she knew what that would signify. And she did want to marry him. Of course she did. Today had proved they would suit quite well.Even if I don’t want to bed him at night...
Her mouth pursed. The bed part would come later.
So after another polite but halfhearted protest, she allowed him to put the bracelet on her wrist. It was heavy and foreign feeling. And for one ridiculous moment she heard what sounded like the clap of irons ring in her ears.
“Thank you,” she managed. “I don’t know what to say.”
“It is a mere trifle. There will be more—much more—I hope soon,” he said with a gallant bow over her hand.
It was just as before on the first night they arrived. It was a perfect moment—or what should have been a perfect moment—but it was almost as if it was for the appreciation of those around them more than for each other. Sir Thomas knew what was expected of him as one of the most renowned chivalrous knights in the kingdom and acted accordingly.
That wasn’t to suggest that it was in any way disingenuous or fake; rather that there was no real sentiment behind his actions.
