Page 40 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“Ye did? How excitin’.” Lark climbed up on the bed next to her. “Tell me all about it.”

“He was taking measurements for my armor,” Raven explained. “If I had known he’d be putting his hands under my gown, I would have worn my trews. I was trying to look pretty for him by donning the gown.”

“Wait. He did what?” Lark’s eyes opened wide.

“He touched my breasts as well, while we kissed.”

“Raven, ye should no’ have been doin’ that! What were ye thinkin’?” gasped Lark, putting her hand to her mouth.

“Look who’s talking,” said Raven flippantly. She flopped over onto her back, grabbing her pillow and hugging it tightly.

“I ken I am no angel, Cousin, but at least the man who bedded me was a noble. And he promised to marry me. Or at least that is what he told me.”

“Men are all liars,” Raven said, holding back the tears. “I don’t ever want to get married.”

“I think ye like the armorer but are upset since he’s just a commoner. Ye ken yer father will never allow ye to be together.”

“I don’t care what my father says.” She bolted up to a sitting position. “Mayhap I should just lure Jonathon to bed. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Then I’ll tell everyone about it. No man will want to marry me after that.”

“Och, nay. Dinna say that!” Lark made a face. “What do ye think would happen to Jonathon if ye did such a daft thing? He’d be imprisoned and sent to the gallows, that’s what would happen. If he was lucky. It’s more likely he’d be drawn and quartered for even thinkin’ about touchin’ a titled lady.”

“You’re right, Lark,” said Raven, realizing how foolish she sounded right now. “I can’t do that to Jonathon. Even if he did dismiss me tonight, I don’t want to see him imprisoned or killed. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“He probably dismissed ye because he came to his senses in time. That is more than I can say for ye, Cousin. What are ye goin’ to do?”

“The only thing I can do. I’m going to learn to joust, and enter the contest and win the tournament. Then I won’t have to marry anyone. All my problems will be over.”

“Ye dinna really think yer father is goin’ to let ye do that, do ye?”

“He won’t know it’s me under the armor. I’ll give a fictitious name of some noble and enter the competition that way. Hopefully, no one will notice until it’s too late and after I’ve won the contest.”

“Ye will never win the tournament against a trained knight. That kind of clishmaclaver is only goin’ to get ye killed. It’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard. It will never work.”

“Well, do you have a better one?”

“If ye’re askin’ me for advice with men, all I can say is, dinna let a man bed ye unless ye are wearin’ his ring on yer finger.” She held up her ringless finger to prove her point. “That is what I learned.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive, Lark.” Raven reached out and held her cousin’s hand. This poor girl was a single mother raising a bastard child, and everyone knew it. No man would ever want Lark now, because she’d ruined her reputation over one night of unbridled passion.

Why the hell couldn’t Raven be so lucky?

“I suggest ye get some sleep, Raven. I’m sure things will look better on the morrow.”

“Aye. I’m sure you’re right,” said Raven, turning on her side and hugging the pillow, wishing she were hugging Jonathon instead. What was happening to her? And why in heaven’s name was a simple, common man exciting her and controlling her thoughts? She needed to forget all about him. Her best bet would be to get far away from him. Nay, that would be impossible since her father hired him to supposedly protect her.

Raven needed to take matters into her own hands. She also needed to learn how to joust, or she was never going to have a chance to win the tournament and be saved from marrying men like Frogmouth or Baldhead.

She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to think of anything but Jonathon, but couldn’t. It was going to be a lot harder to forget him than she thought. Lark was right, she never should have kissed Jonathon or let down her guard around him. She and Jonathon were from two different walks of life. They didn’t belong together. It was times like this that being a noble was more troublesome, in her opinion, than it was worth.

* * *

“Jonathon, get up! Jonathon, did you hear me?”

Jonathon awoke the next morning to his brother shaking him by one shoulder. He lifted his head and looked around the room, taking a moment to realize he had fallen asleep at his bench last night. The embers from the forge glowed, and thin wisps of smoke lazily curled up to the ceiling from the nearly extinguished fire. The smoke drifted off through a vent hole in the roof of the blacksmith’s shop, where sun was shining through.

“What time is it?” asked Jonathon, rubbing his eyes.

“We all overslept. I’m sure by now we’ve missed most of the morning meal,” said Avery, not sounding at all happy about it. “I sent Gerold ahead to see if everyone is still in the great hall.”