Never If Not Now - Madeline Hunter Page 0,15
which he suspected she now did.
“She died a year after all of you left to go to France and fight for King Henry.”
He had inadvertently turned the topic back to her father’s misadventures. “I am sorry to hear that.”
“She liked you. She said you would grow into a handsome, strong man.” She glanced at him with a little smile on her lips. “She was right.”
He preened like a fool at the compliment, but only because it came from her.
“Stop grinning,” she admonished.
He pushed up, so he sat beside her. “Am I grinning? Lord, it appears I am.”
She gave him a little smack and laughed. “Still conceited, I see.”
“Is it conceit to acknowledge the truth? If I said ‘Elinor, you are a woman distinctively fair in your beauty, with hair and eyes the color of midnight and skin the hue of fresh snow,’ it would not be conceited for you to agree with me. A looking glass will reveal the truth of it.”
She flushed, so much that he wondered if no one ever spoke courteous words to her anymore. A shame, if so. Perhaps Hugo kept all men away from her. He depended on her more than most men would.
“We will find a looking glass if you don’t have one,” he said, giving her hand a little pat of friendship. “You will see I am right.” Then, since she did not object, he left his palm resting on the warmth of her hand.
She did not move her hand. The kiss, almost chaste in its sweet beauty, had caused nostalgia to drench her, and she still dwelled in poignant memories. She wished they were back then, maid and squire, with one foot still in childhood while the other ventured toward grown-up duties. How easy their friendship had been then. How harmless that kiss in the garden had been.
Nothing seemed simple now. Nothing was harmless. Even as she basked in a connection deep and old, she remained alert for someone coming along the river-bank or sounds within the reeds. She did not want talk that would encourage her father in his plans of vengeance against Zander.
“Why do they call you The Devil’s Blade?” she asked. “I have heard it several times now. It is an odd name for a crusader. One would expect such a knight to be celebrated as The Angel’s Blade, or The Savior’s Blade instead.”
“The name was not attached to me by other crusaders, but by an enemy army.”
“In the Holy Land?”
“Before that.” He did not appear inclined to explain. When she waited long enough, he shrugged. “We first landed in Sicily, to right a wrong the king’s sister had suffered there when she was widowed. We took Messina. In the battle, once we were inside the wall, I was attacked by three men. I fought them all.” He smiled ruefully. “The next thing I know I am being praised by the king. I am also being avoided, and feared, because the enemy has given me that title. Richard said it was because I fought like a man possessed would.”
“Do you not mind?”
“No one uses it to my face. At least, no friend does. It followed me, however. And at times I hear it being whispered. It serves a purpose sometimes.”
“By making men fear you?”
“That. And by tempting men to challenge me at tournaments like this one. A bit of fame comes to a man who defeats The Devil’s Blade.”
The more who challenged him, the more he could defeat. Knights often amassed wealth from the forfeitures that tournament victories brought.
She eyed her wash. The sun had dried it fast, and now it stretched atop the grass, the edges fluttering in the light breeze. It was time to go. She held back a few moments more, savoring the feel of his hand on hers.
“How did you get him home?” he asked.
She knew what the question truly asked. What does your family have left?
Nothing. A sad answer, but the only honest one.
“We had some land, as you know. Not much, but—I sold it, except for one-half hectare with a cottage, along with most everything else of value. Lord Morris arranged for the silver to be brought to the knight in France who held him. My father returned two months later, so sick that I nursed him for another two months until he could walk. Lord Morris, out of charity, gave him a post at one of the town gates. It pays barely enough to keep us.”
“So you began sewing.”
“I had always sewed,