Elinor sat him down in their tent and began unbuckling the plate on his shoulder. While she did so, a shadow fell on them. The squire Harold stood at the tent’s opening, carrying a sack.
“I was sent to serve you.” He set down the sack, opened it, and removed a small bladder. “Some wine, to clear your head.” He walked over, handed it to her father, and took over with the armor. “I’ve got a salve for your shoulder and leg, and I was told to warm water for you to wash.” He looked at Elinor. “You will not be needed now, my lady.”
“But I always—”
“Not needed,” her father echoed. “Been a long time since a squire has served me.” He took a long draw of the wine. “Be sure to clean and oil that plate, boy. And there’s sand for the mail in those sacks outside.”
“His name is Harold, and he is one of Zander’s squires,” she said.
Her father looked surprised. He glanced in the direction of the nearby camps. “Not one of—”
“He was not sent by one of your new friends, but by one of our oldest.” She gestured to his thigh. “I see that blow to your leg did not affect your mail.”
“He caught me wrong, with the flat of his sword, not the edge. A fortunate mistake.”
“Most fortunate.” She bent and kissed his head. “Enjoy being served, while I enjoy not having to bury you.”
She hurried through the camps until she reached Zander’s pavilion. Heart full and beating hard, she paused only to make sure the veil and circlet had not fallen askew. Then she burst into the pavilion.
And saw at once that Zander was not alone.
Lord Marcus was saying something that made Zander laugh. His wife watched approvingly. And right in front of Zander, the girl with red hair looked up with adoration in her eyes.
She halted at once, wishing she could disappear. Silence fell and everyone turned to the intruder.
“Lady Elinor,” Zander said.
She looked at him, then at the girl. “I came to thank you for today,” she said. “For everything.” She lowered her gaze, made a small curtsy, and turned on her heel.
She walked back to her father, thinking about that family with Zander, remembering how young and pretty the daughter was. Lord Marcus and his wife appeared to have made a decision about their daughter’s future. Such a marriage would be worth far more than what Zander won as champion.
What had she expected? For the champion of the tournament to be alone after his final joust? To run into his arms and have kisses far happier than their last ones? To lay on his pallet and hold him in her arms in gratitude and love?
Her father was alive. She had been honored by Zander’s gifts and memories. She had given herself to the man she wanted and shared an intimacy to last a lifetime.
Only a very foolish woman would expect anything more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Zander cursed under his breath as he strode through the town. Dark had fallen and doors had closed, but he could hear muffled sounds and saw the dull glow of candles. He walked fast, pacing out his discontent, negotiating with his soul. Only when he emerged through the portal and onto the field did he stop his furious stride.
It was the first time he had been alone since he parted from Hugo after their competition. The first time to be with his thoughts, and to weigh all that had happened.
An offer was coming from Lord Marcus. Soon. The arrival of that family in his pavilion had all but promised one. “We will talk after the melee,” Marcus had said while they walked back to the castle, with his lady and daughter a few steps behind them.
He wished Lord Marcus had not come to his tent with that child. He had been waiting for Elinor instead, and almost called her name when he saw the pavilion’s flap rising. Instead she arrived later, while Lord Marcus was congratulating him on winning the championship and Matilda was eyeing him like a favorite horse.
How polite Elinor had been, despite her surprise. Gracious and elegant. His request that she stay died on his lips when she turned and hurried away, leaving him with Matilda’s adoration.
That had not been the worst of it, however. Upon returning to his chamber in the castle, Lord Yves had summoned him. That long conversation had lasted until the dinner, which in turn had gone on too long.
Long enough for Lady Judith to get him alone and propose marriage.
He gazed up at the night sky. It had been a day of good fortune and new opportunities. Most of the knights encamped here would never see the like of it in their lives.
So why was his spirit so unsettled?
He walked through the camps toward the noise coming from the tavern at the back of the field. Only his legs changed direction, and he found himself on the edge of Sir Hugo’s camp. The fire was down to embers and the flap of the tent was closed. Disappointment branched through him. He had hoped Elinor would be outside.
