Page 33 of The Sword and the Damsel
“Yes?” What was he going to say? Was he going to declare himself at last?
Alais held her breath, watching the complex play of emotions across his face, wondering what his next words might be. But then he blinked, leaned back, and let her hand go.
“I should go back to the tournament grounds. May I take my leave, my lady?”
Oh.He didn’t want her after all. Perhaps she’d been imagining things. What a fool she was!
“Of course.”
She stood frozen, watching his retreating form, unaware of the swirl of activity around her in the main entrance hall. He glanced back once, and the look he gave her would have melted stone. Maybe all was not lost after all. As he turned away, hope sparked in her heart once again. What was she to make of this man?
Dora tapped her on her shoulder, startling her. Collecting herself, she let her maid lead her back to her room where she changed out of her fancy dress and lay down for a rest before dinner.
“Do you think he’ll propose?” She stared up at the canopy over her mattress before turning her head to look at Dora.
Dora gave her a long, considering look. “We’re talking about Sir Victor?”
“Yes.”
“I confess, my lady, I’m glad you finally took notice of him. I think you’re well-suited. Until today, though, I didn’t think you held him in any regard. He may not have thought so either, but I think he’d have to be blind not to see it now.” Alais sat up on her bed as Dora carefully hung her extravagant dress in her wardrobe.
“Do you think he returns that regard?”
“Very much so, though he might lack the confidence to make it known.”
“If I’d come to my senses sooner, I might have given him more encouragement.” She stood up and started pacing. “I’d much rather marry him than any of the others, but I’m worried he doesn’t think I’d consider him. I don’t know how to show him, and I may not have time before I have to make a decision. Why do men have to be the ones to propose?”
“Shh,” Dora said, taking her elbow and leading her back to bed. “Rest, my lady. It will all turn out for the best, I’m sure. I’ll come back in an hour to help you get ready for the feast.”
Alais curled into a ball beneath the blankets and stared at the wall, unable to think of anything except the hard fact that her entire future would be decided in the next few hours.
Chapter Thirteen
As the lastof the crowd left the tournament grounds and the vendors packed up their stands, Victor busied himself with a thousand different tasks. Anything to avoid thinking about Lady Alais. For a moment, he’d thought…No.He didn’t dare let his mind go down that path. Better by far to focus on the tournament.
And what an eventful tournament it had been. If he didn’t know better, he would think someone was out to kill him. Was it an accident of aim in the joust? And what about Sir Elias and the stranger? One succeeded in drawing blood and the other nearly decapitated him. Robert himself seemed to be out for blood. Four men taking deadly aim in one day was not a coincidence. Someone was hoping he wouldn’t survive the day.
But who would want him dead and more importantly, why? Robert didn’t have a motive that he knew of. Well, aside from the obvious…. But was Robert willing to kill him over Guestling? If so, why didn’t he let him die in Spain? He and Robert had never been the best of friends, but it seemed so unlikely Robert would orchestrate an attempt on his life.
As for anyone else being after him, he didn’t have any debts and hadn’t deflowered anyone’s daughter. Certainly, he’d angered his fair share of merchants in Hastings, keeping them in line on behalf of his aunt, but not enough for any of them to want him dead. Maybe this had something to do with therun-in with Matthew’s men? But how did Sir Elias come into it? Canterbury had always welcomed Victor in the past. Did something change? Canterbury might not like the link between Hastings and Winchelsea that he represented, but would he go to such lengths to disrupt it?
In the distance, he saw the knight he jousted against walking over to his horse to depart. Victor moved up from behind and grabbed his arm.
“What the—” The man spun to confront Victor, but he was too slow, and Victor pinned him against a tree with his arm twisted behind his back.
“What happened in our joust wasn’t an accident. I want to know who’s after me and why.” Victor gave the man’s arm an extra twist, making him yelp.
“I don’t know who’s behind it. I swear. I have gambling debts, and my money lender offered to cut me a break if you had an accident at the tournament. I don’t know why.”
“What’s the name of this money lender, and where can I find him?”
“His name is Matthew, and he travels around. He’s from Canterbury, but he comes to an inn in Hawkhurst called the Sword and Shield on the Kalends of every month. That’s all I know. I promise.”
Victor shoved him away and drew his sword, pointing it at the knight. “Get out of Winchelsea, and never come back.”
The man rushed off to his horse and escaped as quickly as he could manage.
Lord Guy came walking toward the paddock and stopped short when he saw Victor with his sword drawn. “Good heavens, man! The tournament is over. You don’t have to go brandishing that thing at innocent people.”
