Page 87 of The Knight’s Reward

He was silent for some time. Kathryn watched his face as his expression turned from thoughtful to pleased. His lips curled up ever so slightly, faint lines appearing around the corners of his eyes.

The light from a single candle showed her what she already knew. They were clear blue, just like his brothers’. Sometimes, when he was angry, they appeared darker. But they were as light as a summer sky tonight, and it seemed Kathryn could peer through them into his very soul.

“Emma could be willful at times. One day, when I was given my first training sword, she asked our father for the same. He refused her request, saying only boys could become knights. I remember Bryce saying that Emma had gotten too quiet. We’d expected her to argue with our father, but she did not.”

Kathryn was glad her own father had understood the value of her own training, even if it was with a dagger and not a sword.

“What did she do?”

“Nothing. Or at least, she did nothing that day.”

He adjusted himself on the bed and then pulled her even tighter against him.

“Or the next. Or the day after that. It was a sennight later when she was discovered missing by Geoffrey, who raised the alarm.”

“Where had she gone?”

“Into the village. Which, of course, she’d not been given leave to do on her own. She’d hidden herself among sacks of grain, and so the miller’s son had unknowingly brought her to town. From there, she visited the blacksmith—” his grin widened, “—to commission a sword, of course.”

“Of course,” she said, laughing. “He did not make her one, did he?”

“Nay. He sent his assistant back to the manor to inform us that she was there. She spent the next hour watching him work.”

“And what did your father do?”

“Father? He did nothing. But Bryce, admiring her bravery, fashioned a dagger suited for a young girl and showed her how to wield it.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Aye, much like your father taught you.”

“I would like to meet Emma someday.” She said it without thinking and immediately wished she could take back the words. Sighing, she laid her head back down. “I’m sorry. I should not have said that.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for, Kathryn.”

His voice sounded sad to her ears, but there was nothing she could say to him. Knowing what she had planned . . . she’d do better to remain silent. They should enjoy this time together while they still could.

Neill must have been thinking much the same. He rubbed her back as she lay there, her head still nestled firmly against his chest. The last thought Kathryn remembered having was that she loved him and wanted to tell him as much.

But it was not the time for such words.

And then she slept.

Chapter 28

When Neill walked into the royal training yard the next morn, the reaction was as he expected. One by one, heads turned toward him as he strode to the captain-at-arms.

“Sir Neill Waryn,” he declared himself.

“Well met, and welcome, Sir Neill,” the man said, handing him a red and yellow surcoat to be worn over the light armor Aylmer had helped him with earlier. He’d left his squire at Langford, knowing the boy wanted to stay in the south. Aylmer had accompanied him to the royal training yard instead.

Neill had awoken before dawn, although he couldn’t bring himself to rise for some time. Despite the diminutive bed, which had barely held them both, Neill could not remember a more pleasant night’s sleep. The only difficulty had been ignoring his body’s response to the beautiful woman in his arms.

She was not his, as much as he willed it otherwise. The thought that he’d almost taken her virginity disturbed him now. The choice he’d thought so clear was anything but.

Two days until the king received him again. Until he would be forced to make a choice no man should be asked to make.

Before meeting Lyndwood, he’d made his decision. It would be ludicrous for the sovereign to decline to remove the only barrier to peace along the border, but it was his decision, and his alone. Aye, he could aid the cause by marrying Lady Alina, but Neill could no sooner forsake Kathryn for his unknown bride than he could lose a joust.