Page 9 of The Knight’s Reward

She intrigued him too, although he’d do better not to think it, let alone say it. He was, after all, no longer free to pursue relations with the fairer sex.

Pity.

“It intrigues me,” she finally shot back, “to know if you are who I suspect.”

This would be interesting.

“And who do you suspect me to be, my lady?”

He was sorry his use of her title annoyed her, but getting a rise out of Lady Kathryn was proving too much fun for him to desist.

“Magge called you Waryn—”

“And indeed, she hit her mark.”

“I’ve seen both of your brothers at the inn, and know you are neither the husband of the beloved Countess of Kenshire nor Bryce Waryn, who frequents The Wild Boar quite often on his travels from Brockburg to Kenshire Castle.”

Neill waited, leaning against the wall of the inn, wondering if she was being missed inside. Magge seemed to rely heavily on the young woman who was as much from Bondgate-in-Darlington as he hailed from France.

“Which means you are the youngest of your family. The great Neill Waryn who has supposedly been crowned champion of more tournaments than any other before you. The black-haired ‘beast of the list’ whose jousting lance has never been broken.”

Though it was true, the nickname was not one he relished, simply because Cora abhorred it. He also would not self-identify as “great” for his performance in the tournaments. He’d only participated in so many of them because the real test of a man’s mettle, the battles for which the tourneys were meant to prepare the king’s men, were so few. Adam had begged him not to take up the Crusades as his cause, reminding him that his true purpose was to rejoin his family in the north and help keep peace along the mercurial border. Though relative peace had reigned in recent years, Lord Caxton, an English warden, abused his post, taking bribes for allowing men to go free. Because of it, the Scots refused to attend the monthly Day of Truce, where criminals from both sides were brought to justice. Without it, chaos now reigned once again.

He’d only participated in two actual battles, hardly making him one of the greatest knights in Christendom as some would claim.

“I am Neill Waryn,” he said instead, bowing. “At your service. Though my elder brother, with whom you are apparently acquainted, should be along any moment. We’re headed north—”

“This eve?”

Neill couldn’t tell if her tone was hopeful or just the opposite.

“Aye, though the hour is late, we’ve a council to attend.”

Kathryn smiled for the first time that night, though it faltered for a moment, and damned if Neill’s knees did not buckle just a bit.

“You are as I suspected.” She curtsied as prettily as if he were the king. “My thanks again for your assistance earlier, Sir Neill.”

With that, she fled through the back door and into the inn.

She’d flitted in and out of his life like a beautiful butterfly, alluringly elusive, never to be seen again.

A good thing, for she was a woman for whom a king would give up his kingdom.

Chapter 4

“Come in.”

Picking her head up from the parchment, the letter she’d taken from her father’s belongings, Kathryn sat back in her seat when she heard a knock at the door. She’d read it so many times, looking for clues, that she knew it likely would not help her anyway.

Mary had taken longer than usual to apologize.

“I’m beggin’ your forgiveness—”

“For abandoning me in the hall or forcing me to lie to Magge?”

“Both,” Mary said, looking anything but sorry. Smiling so broadly it looked as if her cheeks may crack at any moment, she sat down on Kathryn’s modest bed.

“Maybe someday I’ll be lyin’ for you.”