Page 25 of Knight of Havoc
“Any more and I would unman myself,” he confessed and he pulled her once more fully against him so she could tell for herself how much he wanted her.
“Oh!” She appeared so innocent there could be no mistake the lady was a virgin. It pleased him to know there had been no other before him.
“Aye… Besides, I cannot take things further until you are mine.”
Elysande gave a little shrug. “I would not mind, Reynard, and mayhap if the deed was done there would be no need for a tournament.”
“I will not take you likethat, Elysande.” He gave her another quick kiss and stepped back before he forgot himself again. “We will be wed. I swear it.”
“Mayhap you should not make such a promise,” she murmured but there was a catch to her voice whilst uncertainty crept into her voice.
She suddenly looked so forlorn that Reynard became concerned with what had been going on in his absence. “Something has happened…”
He watched her take several deep breaths to control herself. “The men who wish to marry me have grown… bolder in the empress’s absence.”
A growl of outrage left him. “Has someone…”
Her eyes became wide. “Oh heavens… no… nothing that far, but they are making their intentions very clear.”
“Who?” he growled out, not trusting himself further.
“Lord Constantine for certain, although he is not as badly behaved as some of the others. A Lord Gerold Morcant has become a most unpleasant person to be around,” she said whilst her lips formed into a grim line of displeasure.
“Morcant?” he asked and watched whilst Elysande gave a nod. “He has made the rounds of the empress’s court attempting to win the hand of one wealthy heiress after another. There is a reason why the empress has denied him. Do your best to stay clear of him.”
“They are only two men of many who have tried to put me in a position where a tournament would not be necessary. They mean to do anything to have me as their wife. Be careful on themorrow when the tourney begins. I would not be surprised if they plan to cheat their way to become the victor.”
“And what of Warin? Has he at least remained respectful or must I needs call the man out?” Reynard inquired whilst swiping his hand across the back of his neck in agitation that any man would take advantage of the fair lady.
“Whilst Lord Constantine continues to make his intentions known, his behavior has remained proper. Still, I have never come across such a pompous arse in my entire life,” she muttered as she rolled her blue eyes.
A short chuckle left him. “Sounds as though Warin is the least of my worries,” Reynard said confidently.
She came to him and placed her hand over his heart. “Promise me you shall be careful,” she replied, waiting for his answer.
“I promise,” he declared, sealing his vow with another sweet kiss.
Elysande seemed to be relieved, and he began to escort her back toward the keep, promising to see her at the evening meal. He wondered if the empress would allow him to be seated next to his lady whilst they dined this eve. He would find out soon enough.
Chapter Eighteen
Elysande rushed downthe turret stairs. She was late, but she had wanted to finish the embroidered ribbon she had been working on. A favor to bestow upon the knight whom she wished to win her hand. If only the empress had not deemed a tourney necessary. Why could she not allow her to choose her groom? Then she might already be wed to Reynard. Elysande supposed the empress had her reasons but how would she ever be able to marry anyone except the man who had captured her attention? She would be beyond miserable with anyone else but Reynard Norwood as her husband.
She picked up her pace after grabbing a bit of cheese from one of the tables in the great hall to break her fast. She had no time to sit down and eat something more substantial although her stomach rumbled in protest. Whether that was from hunger or what was to happen in the coming days remained to be seen.
The sun shone brightly in the morning sky, giving evidence that the time had come for her to be on the platform erected for the empress and those closest to their lady, Elysande amongst the many vying for even a hint of attention from Matilda. Picking up the hem of her blue gown, she ran through the inner bailey, out the barbican gate, and through the throng of people who came to witness the spectacle put on for their entertainment. Those who had suffered the most from the war that raged acrossEngland only cared that for a brief moment in time they could forget their woes and live in the moment of revelry.
Her eyes scanned the knights who would attempt to win her hand. Many gave a courtly bow when she passed them by but there was only one knight who held her interest. Her steps halted abruptly when she finally espied him. By St. Michael’s wings! He was magnificent.
Stripped down to barely any clothing, Reynard’s skin glistened in oil telling Elysande he would be in a wrestling match before aught else took place in the games. His stomach muscles were rippled whilst the dusting of hair upon his chest made her fingers itch to run her hands across his slick skin. He clasped his hands over his head as he bent from side to side to loosen his muscles but all Elysande could see was the warrior knight that was all Reynard. She marveled at his broad shoulders, his bulging arms, and all the way down to his strong well-toned legs… she licked her lips to moisten her suddenly dry mouth, not that ’twould do her much good. Seeing him thusly would remain etched in her mind until the end of time itself. She was completely lost.
Shaking herself out of the fantasy that raced through her head, she marched forward determined that Reynard would wear her favor this day. His smile when she neared reached his steel grey eyes, the edges crinkling in delight once she stood before him.
He bowed before her placing his hand over his heart. A courtly bow that would rival anything she had witnessed when paying homage to their empress. He towered over her when he finally stood tall, and he took her hand, raising it to his lips.
“Glad tidings to you this morn,mylady,” he emphasized causing several nearby knights to swear.
“I thought I might miss seeing you this morn,” she said stepping closer.
