My Noble Knight (21 page)

He faltered for a moment, hesitancy in his step. Perhaps he could wait until later to enter the lists. He groaned inwardly. It would do no good to wait. He would have to face them eventually. He continued toward the castle.

The crowd was daunting. Knights who didn’t usually travel the circuit of tourneys were here, either to impress Prince Edward or to win the purse. It made no difference to Griffin. They may be knights, but that didn’t mean they knew how to joust.

Griffin made his way into the Great Hall. Tables were set up with banners behind each one. All the knights who had already entered the lists had posted their banners. He scanned the crowd. A group of knights lounged near the hearth, laughing. Other knights sat at dozens of tables, drinking and listening to the troubadour near the dais. More newly-arrived knights were still hanging their banners.

It took a moment before Griffin spotted Layne’s brothers, Frances and Michael. A moment of anxiety seized him and he continued to scan the Great Hall, hoping she was not here, hoping her brothers made her stay back at the tent. For her own safety. This was not a place for her. He glanced back at the door. Maybe he should check. Maybe he should make sure she was safe.

What was he thinking? He would enter the lists and practice. She was not his concern. He should be concentrating on who might have sabotaged him and focus on stopping those who might try it again.

After entering the lists, and welcoming all challengers, Griffin left Carlton to attend the remaining formalities and turned to leave the crowded room. He paused when he saw a tall man with blonde hair pushed back from his face enter the room. It was his brother Richard. Richard walked beside a shorter man with dark hair. The way everyone bowed and scrambled around the shorter man, Griffin knew it must be Prince Edward.

Richard greeted the room with a stunning smile, one that had always made friends quickly. He swept in confidently, perhaps a bit arrogantly, but the knights rushed to greet him, surrounding him and the prince in a cocoon of praise.

Griffin grimaced in disapproval and turned away. There was a side entrance he could use to quickly escape before Richard spotted him. As he ducked into the hallway, he almost ran over a woman. With a mumbled apology on his lips, he suddenly recognized her familiar face. The only woman who had ever broken his heart. The woman who had sent him on this journey of escape. Jacquelyn. She was still lovely, after all these years. But he now noticed the coldness in her gaze, the assessing sweep of her eyes, eyes that glimmered like blue ice crystals. Her blonde hair was immaculately styled up, surrounded by a golden veil.

“Griffin!” she greeted and moved forward as if to embrace him.

He quickly took her hand and pressed his knuckles to it. He had no desire for her to hold him. But he had every desire to remain in control of the situation. “Lady Jacquelyn.” He stood tall, releasing her hand. “The years have been kind to you.” God’s blood! He should have known she would be at Richard’s side.

Her lower lip protruded in a practiced pout. One he knew all too well. “We were friends once. Is that how you greet a friend?”

“We were never friends. And after you married my brother –”

“I had hoped you were over me.”

He leaned in closer. “Very. Over. You.” She had hurt him. Badly. But that seemed like another lifetime. He had no desire for her to turn her venomous attention on him again. He would make it clear he had no interest. “I assume you and Richard are happy.”

Jacquelyn cast a glance over his shoulder at the crowd surrounding Richard. She nodded with something close to longing in her eyes. “At times.”

Griffin didn’t know how to respond to that. He should have known her greed would make her unhappy. One man would never be enough. Now, staring down at her true nature, he was glad she had let him go. “Gwen is here?”

Jacquelyn nodded. “When they heard you were going to be here, they all agreed we had to come. You know, that was why Richard joined Prince Edward in hosting the tourney. He wanted to see you.”

Griffin had guessed as much. His gaze scanned the Great Hall as if expecting to find his sister there.

Jacquelyn laid her hand on his arm. “I understand you don’t want to come back. Don’t fear. I’ll keep you informed of their plans. We can be allies.” She smiled conspiratorially at him.

Griffin eased his arm from her grip. That was the very last thing he wanted. She was not to be trusted. He didn’t think he could believe a word that came from her lips. “I’m perfectly capable of dealing with my family.” He turned from her and began to walk down the hallway to the door leading to the inner ward.

“Then why do you keep running away?”

He grit his teeth. Is that what Richard had told her? Or did she draw that conclusion herself? He didn’t run. Not any longer.

“Griffin!” He winced at his brother’s voice and slowly turned to find Richard moving into the hallway toward him.

Griffin straightened. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his brother. But the man had not changed. He was exactly the same. Arrogant, confident. He, no doubt, expected to win the joust. Not this time, Griffin thought.

Griffin extended his hand and Richard greeted him with the customary clasping of arms.

“Trying to steal my wife?” Richard asked, holding Griffin’s hand tightly.

Old wounds didn’t heal. It had been Richard who had slept with Jacquelyn. “She’s all yours,” Griffin said, dropping his hand.

Richard threw his head back and laughed. “Still the same old Griffin.”

Griffin only nodded. When Griffin had last left, they were barely on speaking terms. Richard, embarrassed into silence by his betrayal of his brother with Jacquelyn, Griffin just stewing in wordless anger. Their gazes shifted to Jacquelyn. All because of a woman. Now, she was well in Griffin’s past. But the betrayal still hung between them like a curtain of shame. Griffin looked at his brother. “Good to see you, Richard.”

Richard grinned his thanks and placed an arm about Griffin’s shoulders, guiding him into the Great Hall.

Jacquelyn trailed them.

“No wife yet?” Richard wondered.

“What wife would want to be hauled around from joust to joust?” Griffin wondered. Only one woman came to mind.

Richard laughed, casting a gaze over his shoulder at Jacquelyn. “None that I know of.”

“Is that why you haven’t participated?”

Richard leaned in close to whisper, “Not that I don’t envy you. But, alas, I have a castle and lands to run. There is the constant threat of invasion. And Father… Well, Father is Father. You can never please him.”

“You always pleased him.”

Richard shrugged slightly. His face darkened. “Not always.”

Griffin looked at his brother, wondering what he meant. For as long as he could remember, Richard had been his father’s favorite. He always gave Richard whatever he wanted. There were no consequences for Richard. He did what he wanted. And now, with the responsibility of the lands and castle on his shoulders, Griffin was surprised he had straightened up and done what was required of him. He supposed Father was pulling strings in the background. Perhaps that was what his brother was talking about. “Will you joust in the tournament?”

Richard smiled. “An opportunity like this? I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, that was part of the reason I wanted to host the tournament.” He leaned closer to Griffin, glancing quickly over his shoulder at Jacquelyn. “They can’t stop me then.”

Griffin looked back at Jacquelyn who wore a scowl of displeasure on her brow. “You’ve offered a large purse. These men are good. And you are out of practice.”

Richard reared back in surprise. “You could never beat me!”

“That was a long time ago.”

“So I’ve heard,” Richard agreed. “Champion of every tourney you’ve entered this year. Impressive.”

And it was. Griffin had developed his skill over years of discipline and practice. He studied his opponents, watched and practiced. Practiced until his muscles burned with fatigue. Richard was used to a different life. His muscles were soft from leisure, his skills nowhere near as strong.

“I wonder if you could beat me now.”

Griffin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I hope we will have an opportunity to find out.”

Richard cocked a grin and slapped him on the back. “Come. Meet my friend, Prince Edward.”

“Griffin!”

Griffin turned. A young woman moved across the room toward him, skirting nobles in finery and slipping past other knights in her way. Her brown eyes were bright with eagerness, even as she managed to look down her nose at him. She stopped just before him, a grin tugging the corners of her lips. Her gaze swept him and then she offered her hand to him.

Griffin bowed slightly and took her hand, pressing a genuine kiss to her knuckles. When he straightened, he smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Gwen.”

“And you,” she agreed. “I suppose you have dragged poor Carlton all through the lands in your attempt at fame.”

“Carlton is my squire. Dragging is not really what I have done.”

Gwen waved her hand dismissingly, lifting her chin. “Never mind. The least you could have done was send word of your victories. Instead, we had to find out from Sir Ethan.”

“Ethan?” Griffin scowled and glanced at Richard.

Richard nodded. “Farindale stopped by the castle months ago. He was on his way to Norfolk.”

Gwen nodded. “He told us all about your victories in the tourneys. For shame on not sending word.”

Griffin briefly wondered why Ethan had stopped at his home. True, they were good friends once, but had not been close in years. “I would have sent word after I win this tournament.”

Richard eyes gleamed with excitement. “A boast!”

“A promise.”

“Father is quite irritated with you,” Gwen continued. “You know how angry he was when you left.”

Griffin nodded. He remembered how red his father’s face was, he remembered how he called his name again and again. That was another reason he had not sent word. He didn’t want his father to know which tourneys he was entering. The last thing he needed was Father intercepting him at a tournament, demanding he return home.

“Just as he seemed to be missing you –”

“Missing me?” Griffin echoed, the thought ludicrous.

“Sir Ethan showed up and regaled us with news of your incredible wins. Really, Griffin. Didn’t it cross your mind that your family might want to see you compete in the tourneys?”

“Knowing how much you love jousting, dear sister, it never crossed my mind.”

Gwen lifted her chin. “I would have set aside my contempt for it to support you.”

Griffin’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. That was something he thought never to hear from her lips. “That’s gracious, sister.”

Gwen nodded. “You have no idea.”

A noble dressed in a purple velvet jupon with embroidered gold on his sleeves, greeted Richard, pulling him away from the group. Jacquelyn took his place at Griffin’s other side.

Griffin looked back at Gwen as she leaned closer to him. “You’d better face Father before he confronts you in front of everyone. He’s in the solar and was alone when I left him.”

Before Griffin could ask about her statement, she had turned and took Jacquelyn’s arm, leading her away. Perhaps that was his clue to escape. “Gwen!” he called.

She paused and looked at Griffin, tilting her head to the side.

“Your dress is lovely,” he said sincerely. He knew he would never hear the end of it if he didn’t comment on her dress.

She beamed him a radiant smile, curtseyed slightly so she could spread out the beautiful silken material, and continued into the Great Hall with Jacquelyn.

Griffin hurried out of the room and paused.

Father. He stared at the spiral staircase at the end of the stone corridor. Laughter erupted from behind him. A young man brushed past him into the Great Hall, carrying a pitcher of ale. Trepidation filled him. The last time he had faced his father, he had left immediately afterwards. They had spoken harsh words to each other. While Richard and his betrayal had hurt, it had not been the reason he had left. His father had been the real reason. Not even Jacquelyn marrying Richard could have caused him to flee like he had. He couldn’t avoid his father forever. Perhaps he had changed his mind. Perhaps his words would not be so angry.

Griffin straightened his back and headed for the stairs.

Perhaps they would be. But he was a different man now. And he was not running any longer.