My Noble Knight (8 page)

Griffin sent Carlton to the castle to enter him in the lists. He then accompanied Layne to the tent. “You were correct in what you noticed with Talvace.”

Layne nodded. She knew she was.

“You are very skilled when it comes to seeing the flaws in other’s jousting.”

Layne shrugged, but kicked a rock as she walked. None of her brothers would admit that. “Colin would often make it a game. Who could find the most faults?” She shrugged. “I was the reigning champion.”

“Not everyone would notice that Talvace lowered his lance a few finger-widths too much.”

“Maybe.”

He stopped, forcing Layne to look at him. The wind swept through his blond hair.

“Tell me,” he ordered. “When you jousted against me, what flaw allowed you to unhorse me?”

Layne cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You're asking my opinion?”

Griffin pursed his lips and looked at the ground. “After what you noticed with Talvace, I am curious.”

“Are you sure that’s it? And not that I am the only one to unhorse you?”

He remained silent.

She quickly reviewed their joust in her mind and admitted, “Maybe it was just luck.”

“Perchance. Except you told me there was a flaw in my style.”

She shook her head. “It wasn't really a flaw. More like something you did that I took advantage of.”

“I would know what that was.”

A suspicion rose inside of her. What if Griffin had paid her fine to find out how she had beaten him? What if once he discovered it, he had every intention of allowing Dinkleshire to throw her in the dungeon? She continued walking back to the tent, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Would you believe it coming from a woman who was not a knight?”

He followed her. Silence settled around them like a cloud of distrust. “No. But I would take it into consideration.”

“Are you sure Adonis did not stumble? Or a stirrup was broken?”

His gaze snapped to her. “How did you know that?”

“Know what?”

“That a stirrup was broken.”

“I didn't,” she admitted. But it made sense. She remembered how angry Carlton had gotten when she questioned him about Adonis. He had probably missed the frayed leather when he was checking the horse before the joust. He was being defensive of his mistake. She knew she couldn't have beaten Griffin without help.

Griffin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Carlton is taking the stirrup to the leather maker in town on the morrow after the first round of jousts.”

She nodded, but she couldn't quite stop the disappointment bubbling up into her throat, swallowing her words. A broken stirrup. Not her talent, not her skill. She had known as much, but to hear it aloud was heartbreaking. She turned and continued into the tent.

Griffin entered the pavilion after her, grabbing her arm. “Layne.”

She couldn't turn to him. She didn't want him to see the disappointment brimming in her eyes.

“All knights I have come against have fallen. There have been broken stirrups before.”

Startled, she turned to him. Was he trying to make her feel better?

“A good knight trains for a broken stirrup. It is not the reason I lost to you.”

She stared at him. A tremor moved through her. Her gaze dipped to his lips. “Then...why?” His hand still held her wrist as though he didn't want her to move away. His fingers were warm against her skin. Firm. He was used to getting what he wanted.

Silence again fell about them.

Awareness sprang to life inside Layne. Her nipples tingled; warmth spread through her body, heating her. They were alone. The thought was instantly exciting. He could do something that would not be proper. “Should I be...” Her gaze swept his face as his hand moved up her arm, drawing her closer.

“A young woman should not be alone,” Griffin whispered, “with a man.”

Layne watched the way his lips formed each word. “Why?” was all she could say in a breathless sigh.

“He might...” Griffin gathered her in, pulling her closer.

Her hands rested against his strong chest. She should push him away. She should resist. But she couldn't take her eyes from his lips. How she wanted to feel them against hers. How she wanted him to kiss her. “What?” she asked softly.

He hesitated a moment, his gaze sweeping her face in a heated stroke.

She was almost desperate. What if he didn't kiss her? Her breasts pressed against his chest. “What might he do?” she demanded in a frantic whisper, almost a dare.

With a growl, he lowered his lips to hers, slanting them across her mouth. His lips slid gently over hers, coaxing. Layne sighed and Griffin plunged his tongue into her mouth, pulling her tight against him, exploring her mouth.

Layne wrapped her fingers up his back to the nape of his neck, curling them in the thick strands of his hair.

Suddenly, Griffin pulled away, taking a step from her.

Layne stumbled, but caught herself.

“He might do that,” Griffin said coarsely.

Shocked, she could only stare at him. Cold suddenly seeped in around her, putting a chill on her heated body. Anger quickly replaced her shock as Griffin whirled and stalked from the tent. She wanted to grab something and throw it at him. He had kissed her as an example of what might happen! She wanted to twine a stirrup around his neck. He had kissed her so she could see how dangerous it was to be alone with a man. She wanted to kiss him again. The thought was so appalling and surprising that she could only just stand there and take no action at all.

He was trying to teach her to be a proper lady, she reminded herself. She had to keep that in mind.

Griffin paced before the tent. Where the devil was Carlton? He looked toward the castle, passed the competitor tents that dotted the hillside. But there was no sign of his squire.

God’s blood! He had given his word not to mistreat her. And here he was kissing her at the first opportunity! Kissing her. He stopped pacing. Her lips were warm and soft and so very inviting.

She had provoked him! He began pacing again. Yes! By simply asking what would happen if a woman was alone with a man. How could he not show her? How could he not kiss her? He was only human!

Adonis nickered softly, drawing Griffin’s gaze. He moved over to the horse’s side and patted his white nose. The problem was how could he resist doing it again? Griffin clenched his jaw. He was no youngster. He knew how to behave with women. And he knew well how to kiss them. He shook himself. He knew how to respect them. He knew what was allowed in polite society and what was not.

“I should apologize,” he announced to Adonis.

Layne emerged from the tent. They locked eyes and she lifted her chin slightly.

She was not embarrassed, not humiliated. She was confident, radiant, alluring. Griffin could not apologize. Because he knew he would kiss her again. And again. She brushed by him to Adonis’s saddlebags.

Griffin bowed his head as if whispering to Adonis. This was going to take more will power than he thought. Much more will power.

I
t was almost midday when
Layne knelt down, removing bread from a satchel. Something slammed into her from behind, almost tumbling her over. She glanced at the little brown head of the boy clutching her. “Michael!” she cried and threw her arms around him.

Griffin and Carlton rushed out of the tent.

Over Michael’s head, Layne saw Colin and Frances leading the horses forward. She released Michael and raced forward, launching herself into Frances’s arms. She almost toppled him, but he managed to stay upright, a bright smile on his lips.

Grinning, she turned to her oldest brother.

Colin held out his hands. “Laynie.”

Layne marched into his arms and squeezed him tight. She could smell the scent of home, the rich woodsy scent that was Colin’s.

Colin glanced at Griffin over Layne’s head and his eyes hardened. “Has he mistreated you?”

“No,” Layne admitted.

“That is offensive,” Griffin warned.

“She’s my sister.”

“And she is under my protection.”

“Glad to hear it.”He pointed to the spot right next to Griffin’s tent. “We’ll set up camp there.”

Michael giggled and ran in circles around Layne as Colin stepped past her, leading his horse to the indicated spot.

Layne hugged Michael again. “You should see Griffin’s weapons!” she said softly and leaned close to him. “He won’t let me touch them.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “You are a girl.”

Layne put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you start with me, too. I can still beat you in hand to hand.”

Michael nodded. “Not for long. Colin is teaching me some moves that will have you flat on your back.”

Layne’s mouth dropped open and she glanced at Colin as he pulled a saddle bag from the horse. She was happy Colin was including him, but she missed their practices. She wanted to learn the moves, too. How embarrassing if her younger brother beat her in hand-to-hand combat.

“Come on, Michael,” Colin ordered.

Michael glanced at Colin and then back at Layne. He leaned in to whisper to Layne, “Frances and Colin are both in the lists. They are hoping for a round against Wolfe.”

Layne glanced at her brothers. In her eyes, what Griffin had done had saved both her and Colin from the dungeon.

Michael scowled. “Then they can win the purse and you can come back with us again.”

Layne nodded, but she couldn't help wondering... if they won the purse for her, they wouldn't have enough coin to purchase the land for their father. What would happen to him? What would happen to all of them? As Michael walked over to Colin, she caught sight of Griffin. He sat beside Carlton, instructing him on the proper way to hold the stone for the best results at sharpening his sword. She watched the way he turned his hand to demonstrate. Such strong hands, such dark hands. Such skilled hands. What would they feel like on her body?

He suddenly looked up, locking eyes with her.

Heat suffused her cheeks. She turned her attention back to the satchel and continued to remove the bread for their meal.

Griffin came up behind her, catching her hand to still her movements. “Layne. I must practice and I need Carlton’s help. As much as I don’t think the field is a place for a woman, I hesitate to leave you alone. I wish you to accompany us to the field for practice.”

Her face lit up. She would get to see him practice. Maybe he would let her help! Maybe--

“To watch.”

Her joy plummeted. She grimaced and nodded, dropping her gaze to the ground to hide her disappointment. At least she would get to see him practice.

He stood over her until she lifted her gaze to him. The sun shone above him, casting a halo of light around his head and shoulders. His shoulder-length blonde locks glowed in sunlight like a halo. And his eyes, they sparkled! Breathlessness caught Layne by surprise. She couldn’t help but stare. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but in the next instant he turned away.

Layne watched his retreating form. What was wrong with her? She never felt this way. She never struggled to find words. No one had ever affected her the way Griffin did. When he disappeared into the tent, she stood for a long moment, baffled. Why had she responded to him like that?

She looked around. What had she been doing? She saw the saddlebag at her feet, the satchel open. Yes. Bread. She was getting the meal ready.

She moved to the side of the tent where the other saddlebag lay on the ground. She opened it to retrieve a flask of ale. Instead, her hand wrapped around a leather strip. She pulled it out. It was a piece of stirrup leather. It wasn't the actual stirrup, the place Griffin put his foot, that had broken, but the strap that held it. Sometimes things like that happened. The leather wore out and simply failed. She was about to put the stirrup leather back when something caught her eye.

She studied the spot where the leather had failed, the bottom of the broken piece of leather. She lifted it to inspect it. The spot of the break began with a clean cut. A straight line. It ended with a ragged rip. She expected the worn out leather to be frayed and worn, like it was at the end of the break. But the beginning was clean. Tingles raced along her neck.