She wasn’t. The only improvement in their fortune was her father still had that armor Zander had brought for him to use. She would try to find Angus and ask him to come and get it before they left tomorrow. Which meant the total of this adventure’s benefits had been this food.
And, of course, being with Zander for a few days.
She looked at the dancers, which meant she saw him. That widow sat next to him and wore a triumphant smile. Perhaps the decision had not been Matilda after all. Lady Judith brought more, of course, and a status as lord of her manor. Zander would want the latter. Most men would, even if it meant having a wife who somehow always looked. . . hungry.
She tore her gaze away. The table across the fires had emptied, and servants were breaking down the boards and moving benches. Dancing would begin soon.
Her father reached for a honey cake. “Just one more,” he said when she gave him a scolding look. “They can do this table last.”
One more meant two, and another tumbler of ale. She waited impatiently for him to finish. She did not want to watch the dancing. It was time to leave this tourney and return to their regular life.
A warmth behind her. A presence she knew bending down. “Meet me outside,” Zander whispered in her ear.
She looked back, to find him gone. She debated what to do.
Her father misunderstood. “Don’t be waiting on me,” he said. “Go and say goodbye if you want to.”
She pushed her way through the hall. The night had brought mist and a brisk, cool breeze. She looked for Zander once she left the building.
Suddenly he was beside her. He took her hand and led her toward the garden. She went with him, but a strong scold formed in her mind.
She pulled her hand away once they were under the tree in the garden. The shadows of the swaying leaves caused a lively dance in the dull moonlight falling in patches around them.
“Do not think to kiss me,” she said. “You are betrothed and being unfaithful to your vows should wait a little while, at least.”
He leaned his back against the tree trunk. “What makes you think I am betrothed?”
“I saw you talking with Lord Marcus. If you have not yet received his agreement, you should make haste. This tourney is over and the pavilions will be struck tomorrow.”
“He was telling me that his daughter had a change of heart. She thought I looked very small in the melee next to Sir Bjorn and decided a very big Norseman would suit her better.”
“What a stupid child. They don’t even speak the same language. One even wonders how they will manage to . . .” She crossed her arms, finding herself quite vexed with Matilda.
“Manage to what? Ah. You mean with him so big and her so little, how will they manage things in the marriage bed? I will show you the most likely way.” He reached for her.
She stepped back. “I think you have been too clever by half if you lost that opportunity. A few smiles, and she would have been yours. Lady Judith may bring more, but you are stuck with a woman I don’t think it will be pleasant to live with.”
“I agree. She does not suit me.”
“You have squandered both opportunities? You are the champion. You had some fame before this tourney and now you will have more. This was your best chance. Most of the knights here would sell their souls for such good fortune.”
“I am not most knights, Elinor. I do not sell my soul for coin and land. Nor do I intend to squander the opportunity of this tourney.”
So, there was another girl. One she had not noticed. Of course there was. Most likely two or three.
He reached down to the edge of a rose shrub and plucked two blossoms that glowed white in the night. He picked off the thorns, then tucked one behind each of her ears. “Fate brought you here, and you reminded me of a happy youth and of days when I saw good in the world, and in myself. I could never marry Matilda or Judith if I can marry you, Elinor. Will you agree to it?”
Her heartbeat slowed while she found her breath. This garden seemed an unreal place suddenly, as if she lived in a dream. Only the distant sounds of the music reminded her that she was awake, and this was real.
“You will give up too much, Zander.”
“I will gain everything I need.”
Oh, how she wanted to agree and to throw herself into his arms. Only it was the reckless, carefree squire offering this, not the world-wise Devil’s Blade. “I bring nothing with me. Nothing at all. Think.”
“I have thought plenty. This is no impulse. I have enough for both of us. Enough to add to the land I have. Enough to allow you to live like a lady. I love you, Elinor, as an old friend and as a new lover, and if you agree, as my wife.”
“That is not why men marry.”
“It is why I choose to marry.”
He sounded so certain of himself. So sure that he made no mistake. Still, she dared not believe this was happening, even if she wanted to laugh and cry all at once.
“Do you think to return to your lord?”
He nodded. “Jean Fitzwarryn is a good man. Essentially good, as you said at that first feast. Strong but honest. I am not sure that Lord Yves is. And Yves wants a household knight, while Jean wants a vassal. As for Marcus, he is sure to be embroiled in whatever happens between the royal brothers. I am done selling my sword to settle other men’s arguments.”
She toed at the ground, trying to contain the way her heart wanted to burst. “It does seem you have thought about it a lot.” Excitement built in her. “I have heard it
