Page 35 of My Highland Bride

“I was sent here by Lord Stokerton to give you a message.”

Again, I wait. His face contours in anguish, making me want to pull him into an embrace. The poor lad is so young. And as Erik told me, without parents. A fate I’d not wish on anyone.

My father might lie and withhold information, but I would not part with him for all the world.

“I—” he stammers, “when my lord gave me the missive, I was polishing his armor, and I . . .”

He doesn’t remember the message.

“Please sit,” I tell him, gesturing toward my brother’s empty chair in front of the tent. The boy does, and I resume my seat as well.

“Are you enjoying the tournament?”

He nods, most enthusiastically. “Aye, my lady. Very much. I’ve seen so many splendid things since coming into my lord’s service. Breywood Castle and the East Sea. I’d never seen the sea before. I lived on a farm. But my parents were killed. I snuck onto a clothier’s wagon, and Lord Stokerton made me his squire the very day we rolled into the courtyard. I was worried I’d be tossed into the dungeons but . . . I’d heard of Queen Cettina’s kindness. Well, some say she is kind. Others are afraid of her. But I am not.” He scrunches his nose. “Well, mayhap a bit. But she is kind too. As is my lord.”

Smiling, I say a silent prayer of thanks Bradyn found his way to Erik.

“He is quite kind,” I say, attempting to quell his fears about forgetting the message from Erik. A man more filled with secrets than my own father. He spoke of honesty, and yet he didn’t see fit to tell me he’d been betrothed before. After the stranger’s insertion into our conversation, Erik told me about his ill-fated betrothal to one of Queen Cettina’s ladies. Something inside of me burned in an unfamiliar way. And yet . . . it is hard to hold a grudge against him in the face of his kindness to this boy. “Did you know I knew him when he was a young lad, like you?”

His eyes widen. “I did not.”

“Lord Stokerton’s land borders ours. On one occasion, I accompanied my father to a meeting and saw Erik in the courtyard, surrounded by younger children. He was acting out the story of Aiden’s crossing of the Terese River.”

“Before this was Edingham?”

“Aye,” I say, “Lord Stokerton has always cared for others, and he will care for you well, I do believe.”

I try to ignore Bradyn’s suddenly glossy eyes, but my own cheeks begin to tingle. If I were to cry in front of him, surely it would summon his tears, so I push away thoughts of love and loss. Though I do believe it silly, the idea that boys or men should not cry, I know he wouldn’t wish to do so in front of me.

“I remembered my lord’s message,” he says suddenly, bolting up from his seat as the smell of smoke reaches us. At least one fire is still burning.

“He asks that you join him for supper this eve. His tent is so large he eats in it,” Bradyn exclaims. “My lord also bade me to tell you that he begs your forgiveness.”

After the dual revelations of last eve, I am not surprised. When we parted, I told him I would think on it, his request to court me at this tourney.

Which I’ve done.

Unfortunately, no clarity has come to me just yet. I both wish to know Erik and wish to go back home to the safety of Blackwell Castle, where there is no opportunity for my heart to be broken. Again.

’Tis just supper, nothing more.

“Please tell your lord I will have Warin escort me there at sundown.”

Bradyn beams as if his mission has been successful. Pleasing him is as good a reason as any to sup with Erik this eve. The boy clearly needs encouragement after what he’s been through.

“Very good, my lady. I shall tell him. My lord will be quite pleased, methinks.”

His bow is so formal, I cannot help but smile.

“Good day, Lady Reyne.”

“Good day, Sir Bradyn.”

He frowns. “I am not yet knighted, my lady.”

I make a sound of dismissal. “But you surely will be soon. Best you become accustomed to the title.”

Bradyn’s broad smile makes my heart so very happy. I tell myself the flutters in my middle have naught to do with the thought of supping in Erik’s tent, alone with him, this eve. If Father allows it, which, given his deception, I do believe he will.