Page 17 of Knight of Havoc
Theobald shook his head. “Nay, I found my lady on her way here to Winchester to give aid to the empress’s cause,” he declared. “I took her under my wing to ensure she was well protected.”
“I can hardly fathom a woman on a battlefield,” she murmured.
Reynard was not to be left out of the conversation. “Aye. Both ladies are rare in both beauty and their skills with a sword.”
Elysande turned her head to stare at Reynard. Those steel grey eyes seemingly bored into her own. “You met them both?”
“Aye. Long before my brothers were wed, we made a vow to stay together and fight side by side for our empress. But once they found love, the empress decided that they could best serve her by settling down with their wives. Now I travel with Lord Richard who is as much a brother to me as these two.”
Richard leaned forward on the table. “I have apparently taken up the cause of ensuring the youngest Norwood brother continues to stay out of trouble and does not leave too much havoc in his wake.”
Laughter erupted from the men who were seated around her. Not only were these men close because of their vow to the empress, but there was a camaraderie between them that linked them all as brothers of their hearts. ’Twas to be commended that they had remained close through the strife of their lives.
As the evening wore on, tales of battles and women loved and lost began to spill from the men’s mouths. Elysande laughed along with them even though she knew these stories had been filtered to be suitable for a lady’s hearing. She stifled a yawn and looked toward the tavern door to see if Hawke had returned from escorting Olive to her rooms for the night. But the door remained shut and she wondered how long it would take before she, too, could find her sleep for the night.
Wymar took matters into his own hands. “Reynard… the lady is in much need of finding her rest. Be a good lad and escort her back to her room at the castle,” he demanded with a wave of his hand. With his edict delivered, he turned back to his conversation with Richard.
Reynard stood and made his way around the table before he held out his arm. “My lady… shall we?” he asked far more politely than she expected.
Elysande stood and gave a short curtsey. “Gentlemen… I bid you a good eve,” she said before taking Reynard’s arm.
She tried her best to remain calm but once again her heart betrayed her. She could only hope she could make her way across the short distance to where she would spend the night without making a complete fool of herself. She pondered how many times she would need to remind herself that she would not fall under this man’s spell!
Chapter Thirteen
Reynard closed thedoor of the tavern whilst Elysande waited next to him. A gust of air came upon them causing the hood of her cloak to fall from her head. Before he could stop himself, he reached over to grab hold of the fabric and return it to its rightful place. Standing this close to the woman, he breathed in the scent of roses and was momentarily lost in the memory of when they sat on a bench in a garden. He fastened the clasp at her neck to keep the cloak from opening further, and their hands touched as she, too, went to hold the garment in place.
“My thanks, Reynard,” she said quietly.
Looking down upon her, for she was quite small in stature, he could not help thinking that those blue eyes would surely be his downfall. “You are most welcome, Elysande,” he replied before he took her hand and placed it back in the crook of his arm.
They began their evening stroll back toward the castle and he felt her shiver from the cool night air. He took his own cloak and pulled the edge of it around her shoulder, bringing her closer to the warmth of his body. There was no reason they should both be cold when he could easily remedy the situation.
She did not protest their close proximity but she did stiffen a little, perhaps recalling the last time they had been so close. It caused him to realize he owed her an apology for his previous behavior. He halted their progress whilst still holding her close.
“Elysande…” he began but was not sure how to proceed with reliving his past with a woman who was mostly a stranger.
She fingered the edges of his leather jerkin. “Reynard…” His name coming from her lips had him wondering why this woman continued to pull at his heart strings. True… she reminded him of Johanna but Elysande was more than just a memory of a woman he used to love. Elysande was real and staring upon him with what appeared as affection. Johanna could never be more than just a ghost of a memory of what would never be.
“I must needs apologize for my earlier behavior,” he began in a rush.
“Men will be men when they are into their cups I suppose,” she said softly misunderstanding his words, apparently thinking he was apologizing for their conversation in the tavern.
“’Tis not what I meant, Elysande.”
“Then what?”
He gave a heavy sigh, finding the strength to answer when a different pair of blue eyes flashed unbidden in his memory. “The garden…”
“I see…” Her words trailed off as if she, too, relived the memory of their kiss.
“You never gave me the opportunity to allow me to explain about—”
“You do not owe me any explanation. I was the one at fault and should not have pushed myself at you,” she said interrupting his attempt at an apology.
He shook his head. “Nay… you were not at fault, Elysande. ’Twas the memory of my past that caused my stupidity to utter another’s name.”
She stepped back from the warmth of his body and he felt the loss when cold air rushed between them as his cloak fell from her shoulders.
