Page 53 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“Aye.” Edwin handed Harald his shield. “Today I’m proud to call you brother.”
“None shall doubt my strength, now,” Harald said.
“I didn’t mean the tournament.”
“Then what?”
“Your wife,” Edwin said. “You did well.”
Before the morning’s events Harald had ridden up to Eloise, in front of the company, to take her favor. Ignoring Roswyn’s spiteful gaze, he held his wife’s delicate purple scarf to his lips, breathing in the faint scent of lavender, then secured it in a knot around his left arm.
Her beautiful smile had sustained him during the morning, widening whenever their gaze met. Edwin, too, was in much better spirits, cheering him to victory as he sat beside her. Perhaps it was time to forget her past and show forgiveness. What mattered was what she was now—not what she had been in the past.
“Come, brother,” Edwin said, “go and secure a victory for our people.”
Edwin grasped Harald’s wrist, and increased the pressure.
“Have a care, Harald,” he said.
Harald laughed. “You know my horsemanship skills. Do not fear for me, little brother.”
“Beauvisage is cunning,” Edwin said, his voice grave. “He’s not the type to accept defeat with any grace. Take care of your defenses—and use your shield well.”
A bark of laughter interrupted Edwin’s speech. Beauvisage stood at the entrance.
“You’d do well to heed your brother’s counsel, my friend.” He nodded toward Edwin, the expression on his handsome face unreadable, then he turned his smile to Harald.
“Come, my friend, let us seal our friendship and salute each other. May the better man reign victorious.”
* * *
“How fares my husband?”Eloise asked.
Despite the cool breeze, her cheeks burned, her body warm, palms slick with fear.
“He is well,” Edwin said. “Have no fear.”
A fanfare marked the entry of the finalists. A long fence had been erected in the center of the field, along which the combatants would ride their horses, on opposite sides, each attempting to unseat the other with his lance. Henri had been proficient at jousting, but he’d sustained several injuries which Eloise had treated. A blow to the chest at full gallop, could cause considerable damage, even through armor. Henri had once sustained broken ribs from such a blow. The men he had defeated had not always been so lucky. One had been killed, his neck broken on impact as he fell from his horse.
Eloise pushed her fears to the recesses of her mind, and she saluted Harald as he rode out into the field, together with Beauvisage. The two men reined their horses to face her, side by side and she inclined her head to signal the start of the contest.
Whispers threaded through the crowd as the men faced each other from opposite ends of the run. The horses, restless in anticipation stamped their feet and snorted.
A warm hand covered hers.
“He will triumph. Do not be afraid.” Edwin’s voice was barely a whisper, but it gave her comfort. She hadn’t realized how badly she was shaking, but Edwin, ever watchful, had noticed. He stilled her trembling hand, and she curled her fingers round his.
The herald held a pennant aloft and silence fell. Eloise counted the heartbeats in her ears—one, two, three... At the count of four he released the flag. Before it reached the ground a thundering surge signaled the start of the run. The horses gathered speed the closer they came to the center, clods of earth flying into the air as their hooves tore the ground apart.
Afraid to watch, yet unable to avert her gaze, Eloise bit her lip to prevent a scream escaping. She mustn’t appear weak in front of her husband or his guests. Harald leaned forward in the saddle, body taut with concentration. Holding his lance steady, he lifted his shield.
Eloise’s heart beat in unison with the hoofbeats. The muscles in Harald’s horse’s flank rippled as he approached his opponent. At the point of contact a clang echoed across the field and Beauvisage was knocked sideways, sending his shield flying.
Harald had made a direct hit.
Holding his lance aloft, Harald slowed his horse to a trot before reaching the opposite end of the line, then he turned his horse in a tight circle to face the run again.
“He has won,” she breathed.
