My Noble Knight (10 page)

Layne made sure to walk behind both Griffin and Carlton on the way back to the pavilion. Carlton looked over his shoulder at her, meeting her gaze. She looked away out over the sunny field.

When they reached the tent, Carlton led Adonis to the side of the tent.

Griffin turned to her.

For one moment, she locked gazes with him. Those spectacular blue eyes shone in the sunlight. Layne quickly looked away from them and moved to step around him.

“Layne,” he said softly.

Was this another punishment? Was he going to reprimand her for rushing onto the field?

“I wanted to explain…”

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered.

“It
does
matter.” Griffin straightened, looking down at her. “Can't you see that this is all for your benefit? I'm trying to teach you how women are expected to behave so you can marry into a good family and make your brothers proud.”

Layne folded her hands before her. Her aunt had told her that numerous times. Make your family proud by marrying a man. A man who would never let her sword fight or joust. It was worse than death. “I was never good at embroidery. When I tried to sing, people would cover their ears or laugh. I can't cook. I can't read or write. I can't recite poetry. The only thing I was ever good at was sword fighting.” She grinned sadly. “The only thing I was ever interested in was the joust.” She looked up at him and fought down the lump in her throat. He'd saved her from the dungeon and for that she was grateful. “What kind of man would want to marry me?”

“You can change.”

“I can be miserable.”

He frowned. He always seemed to be scowling when he looked at her. “Layne...”

“I think my chances of marrying into a good family are long gone. So, why can't I be happy?” She turned away from him to enter the tent.

T
he sound of loud laughter
woke Griffin late that night. He sat up. In the glow from the moonlight illuminating the side of the tent, he could see Carlton still asleep on his mat. He saw that Layne’s mat was empty.

He stood immediately and rushed out of the tent.

The Fletcher tent was close to his. He had allowed the proximity in silence, even though it infringed on his boundaries. They were Layne’s brothers. A fire burned in a small pit they had dug. The two older brothers sat close to the fire, eating something that looked fresh and smelled delicious.

Griffin spotted her immediately. Layne sat on the ground with her back to him. Her long, dark wavy hair reached to the ground. She had her arm around the youngest brother. She leaned forward, listening intently to her eldest brother Colin.

“Frances flipped him over the table and slammed him to the ground,” Colin said in a hurried whisper.

“Where was Michael?” Layne asked.

Griffin stepped back into the shadows of the tent, not wanting to disturb them.

“Bringing the horses around,” Frances said, taking a deep drink from his flask.

Griffin peered out between a gap in the tent flap.

“I sent him out as soon as I thought there would be trouble,” Colin said in a quieter voice.

Layne looked down at Michael. He slept soundly beneath her arm. She kissed his forehead.

A longing came over Griffin as he watched her family. They were so close, each an integral part of the group. He had never felt like that with his family. He loved his father, brother and sister, but he felt like he was always competing with his older brother. And his sister, she was always too busy with her friends or her social obligations to pay him much heed. No, his family was not like hers.

“Plus I didn’t want him to see if we got our arses kicked,” Colin said taking a large bite from his meat.

Frances snorted and rolled his eyes.

“We were outnumbered two to one!” Colin said around a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, by a bunch of drunk farmers,” Frances clarified.

“They were not farmers!” Colin protested.

“They weren’t knights,” Frances countered.

“Just because the one you fought could hardly throw a punch!”

“The one?” Frances objected. “I think I handled three of them!”

Griffin smiled as the men quarreled about who took on the most men. Boys. That’s what they reminded him of. Young men having a grand adventure. But why drag Layne around with them? They must have had no one to leave her with.

“Yes! Yes!” Layne said. “You both were brilliant, I’m sure.”

Griffin peeked around the side of the tent to see Frances elbow Colin. Colin swatted him in the head. Layne shook her head. The silence spread easily and Griffin could hear the crackle of the fire.

“And what about you, Laynie?” Colin asked, wiping a sleeve across his mouth. “Is the old curmudgeon treating you with respect?”

Griffin ducked back into the shadows. He drew in a small insulted breath and held it.

“He isn’t that old,” she protested.

“He hasn’t tried anything dishonorable, has he?” Frances demanded, his voice tight.

Griffin leaned closer to hear her answer.

Layne chuckled, but the sound was more of a gag than a mirthful laugh. “He wants to make a proper woman out of me.”

Frances scoffed. “He can try, right Laynie?”

“What has he done?” Colin wondered.

Griffin peeked through the folds of the tent again, through the gap, to watch. Layne’s back was to him, her arm still around a sleeping Michael.

Layne shrugged. “He makes me cook.”

The men laughed out loud at that.

Layne threw a stick at Frances that he batted aside. “I’m surprised he’s not sick to his stomach!” Frances roared.

It took all Griffin’s will not to rush to her defense.

She lifted her chin. “He’s strong. Really strong.”

That made the men stop laughing. Good, Griffin thought smugly. He’d knock them flat in the tourney for laughing at Layne.

She leaned forward slightly. “He let me watch him practice once. He doesn’t like when I do. He says that ladies should show no interest in the technicalities of the joust.” Her voice mocked his as she said it.

Frances grimaced and shook his head.

“What did you learn? Does he have any weakness?” Colin asked.

Griffin stiffened. It was something he had never even considered. Was she a spy? Would she relay his fault to her brothers and betray him? Of course she would. Her loyalty was to her family.

“I didn't learn about a weakness.” She pulled something out of her tunic and displayed it to her brothers. “But about a stirrup leather.”

Chills shot down Griffin’s spine. A stirrup leather. Where had she gotten that?

Colin took the leather from her hand, looking at it.

“I'm not supposed to have it,” Layne admitted.

Colin looked at her.

Frances took the stirrup leather from Colin’s hand, glancing at it. “What about it?”

“It was cut,” Colin answered. “Someone’s trying to sabotage him.”

Layne nodded. “I have to get this back before he finds out it’s missing.”

Colin took the stirrup leather from Frances and handed it to Layne. “I don't want you there. If someone is trying to sabotage him, then he’s in danger. And if he is, you are, too.”

Layne shook her head, running her hand over the leather strap. “I'm more worried about Griffin than me.”

Griffin stayed hidden in the dark. The strap was cut? Sabotage. The word sent anger boiling through his veins. Dishonorable cur. Who could have done this? But his thoughts slid back to Layne. What was she doing with the stirrup leather? Where had she gotten it from? What did she plan to do with it? There was only one explanation. She didn't want him to find out it was sabotaged, so she had taken it. Then another terrible thought reared its ugly head in his mind. Had she cut it so her brother would win? Was Layne capable of such a dark deed…

L
ayne collected the leftover bread
to consolidate the remaining food for later. No use wasting any of it. She heard footsteps and whirled.

Frances came up behind her.

Layne grimaced. “You never could sneak up on me.”

“I wasn’t trying.”

“What are you doing here?” Layne wondered and continued to place the leftover bread into a sack. When Frances didn’t reply, Layne looked at him over her shoulder.

He shook his head in disbelief. “He’s already changed you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You used to fight over cleaning up the leftovers.”

Layne ignored the jeer and tied the sack closed. “It’s one of my duties here. Griffin made sure I understood what my chores would be. Besides,” she sat back on her heels, “he’s not a pig.”

Frances chuckled. “It’s not me who is the pig. Maybe Michael…” Frances walked up behind her. “We need this purse, Layne,” he whispered.

She stared at the dying fire pit. “I know.”

“We only have this tournament and the next. If we don’t win… Well, you know the plan. We need one more win.”

Layne nodded. “I know the plan,” she whispered. That had been part of the reason she had taken his place on the jousting field. And now, they needed even more coin to get her out of this predicament. “And when you win, I intend for you to make sure Colin still uses it to buy the farm.”

Frances shook his head. “We need to get you away from Wolfe.”

Layne stood. “No! Father comes first.”

Frances opened his mouth to argue, but Layne grabbed his arm. “Griffin treats me well, a little too much like a pampered girl, but I can deal with that. Father… He needs a home. And so do we.”

Frances closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Promise me, Frances. We will win and the coin goes to buy the farm.”

He nodded and mumbled, “We have to win one more tourney. Or we won’t have enough.”

Layne punched him in the arm. “Are you having doubts?”

“Wolfe is a practiced knight,” Frances murmured.

“Oh. So, you’re afraid. That’s why you let the quintain hit you.”

He looked up startled. Then, his eyes narrowed.

She shrugged and turned away. “Don’t worry. If I have to take your place again –”

Frances grabbed her from behind, flipped her over his hip and caught her in a headlock. “You won’t be taking my place ever again. I’m the best knight and you know it.”

Layne smiled and tugged half-heartedly at his arm.

“Say it. Who’s the best knight?”

“Release her.”

The booming voice startled them both. Frances let her go, keeping a grip on her arm so she didn’t fall.

Griffin stood like an angry god staring down with stern disapproval at his subjects. His fists were clenched, his eyes icy. Hard and cold. Murderously cold.

Layne stepped in front of Frances. “It’s okay, Griffin. We were just playing.”

Griffin’s eyes narrowed. “It is no wonder you do not know how to behave like a woman.”

Layne’s joy faded under Griffin’s harsh words.

Frances pushed forward from behind her. “What does that mean?”

“When your own brother does not treat you as a woman, then you can’t be faulted for your lack of knowledge.”

Frances shoved her out of the way and lunged at Griffin.

Griffin caught him and tossed him aside like a rag doll.

“Stop!” Layne cried and grabbed Griffin’s arm.

Griffin looked at her. There was something frightening in his tight jaw and his stormy blue eyes. He yanked his arm away from her.

Frances rose and Layne again rushed forward to stop him, recognizing the anger in her brother’s gaze. She placed two hands on his chest, pushing to keep him back from Griffin. “Go, Frances.”

“I won’t leave you with this barbarian,” Frances growled.

Griffin straightened. “Unfortunately, she will remain until you and your brothers are able to pay me back.”

“It’s all right,” Layne pleaded, pushing Frances back a step. “I’ll be fine.” She shoved him again.

Frances cast Layne a glance before looking back at Griffin with fury.

Layne was too familiar with that look. Frances wasn’t going to give it up. “Colin!” she hollered, knowing that alone she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Colin emerged from the Fletcher tent as Frances shoved forward again.

Layne lost ground to him, but pushed with all her power. “Colin!” she cried for help.