Page 19 of My Highland Bride

“We bore your sister with talk of Rawlins and the match.”

I realize both men are looking at me. They’re so in sync it’s hard to remember our fathers now despise each other. I’m glad for it. Their quarrel needn’t be ours.

“As champion of the Triumph,” Erik says, “I’ve been invited to Havefest.”

Havefest. I’ve heard of the celebration, of course. Father has attended it more than once. Aside from it being held out of doors with a small, exclusive guest list, I know little else.

Erik and Warin exchange a look.

“Would you join me, Lady Reyne?”

It is as if I am suddenly aware of every sound, every movement around us. I inhale deeply, attempting not to attract undue notice.

“You are allowed a guest?” My voice sounds so calm. Well done, Reyne.

He glances at Warin.

“One, aye.”

That means . . .

“Will your companion not be sorry to miss it?”

His answer is swift. “Nay.”

“My father will be there as well? As a past champion?”

Again, my brother gives him that look. I will ask Warin about it the moment Erik leaves, for I’m now convinced he’s hiding something . . . something to do with Erik.

“I believe he will, but I would escort you there as my guest.”

“I would be delighted.”

“Very good,” he says, a bit formally. “I shall ask your father’s permission and see you at your tents this eve.”

Bowing, he returns to the constable and a few others who have been waiting to speak to him.

“I’ve never been to Havefest,” Warin comments. “Imagine, this is your first tourney, and you’ll be attending the most coveted event of all.”

We walk toward the field where Warin will compete next in the hammer throw. Shouts erupt to our left, though from this distance I cannot see precisely which event is unfolding there.

“Do you believe Father will approve?”

Warin stops and looks at me.

“Warin? Tell me.”

When he doesn’t answer, I remind him, “Do you remember the day when you and Fara snuck into the dungeons?”

Though they’ve not been used for many years, Blackwell still has dungeons. My brother had a particular fascination with them, despite being told to stay away. It was only when my sister conspired to go down there with him that he was finally punished for it.

The shadow that crosses his face is quickly replaced by a sad smile.

“Aye,” he says.

“I knew before you confessed. How? Because you are my brother. I can sense it now as I did then. You are hiding something from me.”

Warin’s next act is odder still. He takes my hands.