“A pleasure to see you as always, Lady Alais,” he said with a sideways smile. “And you, Lady Carenza,” he continued, bowing.
“My husband is glad you are accompanying us today,” Lady Carenza said with a dry smile. “We’ll try to be quick so that we don’t take up too much of your time. I’m sure that you have more important things to attend to.”
“Think nothing of it, my lady. I am at your service.” He gestured toward the gate, but Lady Alais didn’t move.
“He still refuses to tell me what word he replaced with ‘queen’ the other night, and he won’t tell me about the song with the cat either,” Lady Alais teased. “I tried to ask Daniel, but he turned me down too. Carenza, do you know those songs?”
“As if I’d tell you if I did,” Lady Carenza answered shaking her head. “Give it up.”
Lady Alais shrugged. “For today,” she conceded, grudgingly.
The song about a cat again. Would Lady Alais ever give up?
They set out on foot. On the narrow streets of Winchelsea, it was easier to walk than to ride most places. A fall breeze caught Lady Alais’s hair, and she turned her face to it, closing her eyes and reveling in it for a brief moment. Victor caught a waft of lemon and thyme, the scent that followed her everywhere, and he breathed deeply. He would have to see if he could find a perfume with that scent for Jane.
“Will you be competing in the tournament, Sir Victor?” Lady Alais asked, taking his arm.
He stiffened and gently removed her hand. “I’m sorry, my lady. I need my sword arm free to defend you from brigands.” He could still feel the warmth of her hand on his forearm like a caress. Stop noticing that, he told himself.
“Oh yes, the dastardly brigands of Winchelsea! They might steal me away and ravish me if you weren’t here to defend me.”
He gulped, hearing her say the word “ravish.”
“But you didn’t answer me,” Lady Alais continued, oblivious to the effect of her words on Victor. “Will you compete in the tournament?”
“Of course, my lady.” God’s teeth, his voice was unusually raspy. Did she notice?
“I’m sure you’ll win. I heard about your exploits on Birdie Street the other day.” Victor had a moment of panic before herealized she must be talking about the Matthew raid. “From what I’ve seen of your practice, you’re a better swordsman than any of the other competitors, except maybe your cousin. He might give you some competition.”
“You’ve watched me practice?” That was disconcerting news. He swallowed, hard.
“It’s more interesting than embroidery.” She shrugged.
“Is it? It’s all just poking holes in things,” he said looking down at his feet.
Lady Alais giggled. “But you men take off your shirts and thrash around, gleaming with sweat while you try to poke your holes. It’s all much more stimulating than a room full of ladies with needle and thread poking holes in fabric.”
Victor tried to decide if he was going to keep his shirt on during practice going forward, now that he knew she was secretly watching, but then he decided he didn’t much mind the thought of her gaze on his bare chest. He looked around, ostensibly to be watchful, but more so he could mark the time of day by the position of the sun in the sky. How many more hours did he have to wait before he could see Jane?
Lady Carenza stepped in and took her sister’s arm. “Alais, you might want to spend less time ogling sweaty men and more time praying for salvation. I fear for your silly soul sometimes.”
They arrived at the jeweler’s shop. Lady Carenza turned to him. “Ignore her. She’d flirt with a boulder if she got bored enough.”
Lady Alais turned to him and responded in exactly the same voice, “Ignore her. She’d lecture God Himself on moral rectitude, given the chance.”
With that, the sisters swept into the jeweler’s shop, past the two burly guards protecting the shop’s glittering wares.
Victor had a moment of blessed peace. He nodded at the guards, and they nodded back. They recognized him, of course,and knew better than to bother the head of the Watch. Victor leaned against one of the posts holding up the shop’s awning.
Why couldn’t Lady Alais let him be? It would be so much easier if she ignored him, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from torturing him. Even though she obviously didn’t mean anything by it, he couldn’t brush it off. He knew he’d be dreaming tonight of holding her against his bare chest while he ran his sword through brigands hell-bent on ravishing her. He couldn’t escape, even in his sleep.
A tempting, savory smell wafted on the breeze, and Victor turned to the baker next door. He could do with a lamb pie about now, come to think of it. Soon he was back at his post with a delicious hand pie. As he bit into it, he tried to focus on what still needed to be done for the tournament and mused on different ideas while he ate. He was licking the last bits of pie off his fingers as the ladies emerged from the shop.
“Here,” said Lady Carenza, handing him a small, but surprisingly heavy leather pouch. “You’d best hold onto this until we’re back in the castle.”
He already knew what it contained: a heavy gold ring set with a ruby and a gold cloak clasp set with diamonds. These were two of the three prizes for the tournament. The third was a beautiful black destrier that was already housed up in the castle stables. Lady Carenza would give away the clasp to whoever she deemed the most valiant competitor. Lady de Vere would give away the destrier to the best jouster, and Lady Alais would give away the ring to the best swordsman. Victor didn’t want the clasp or the horse, but he was determined to have the ring if he had to give his own cousin a concussion to get it. He might not be able to woo her, but he could win her favor for a day. It was the most he could dare to allow himself.
As they set off back to the castle, Lady Alais turned once again to Victor. “So tell me about your cousin, Robert. Are you two close?”