Page 40 of Betrothal

“And would you change the decree, Sir Geoffrey, an it were in your power?” She could scarcely drag the words out, low and soft, without sobbing.

“The real question, my lady, is would you?” He squared his jaw then clenched it.

“Do you not know my mind, my lord? After the agony of today’s joust, I thought you would see where my true affection lies.” She blinked, willing the tears to recede.

“With Valere? Or with Thomas? He denies you have an affection for him.”

“And I deny it as well.” Alyse gaped, unable to comprehend his meaning. “’Tis you I would cleave to, Geoffrey. Only you.”

“Then why make a spectacle this afternoon over Thomas’s ‘wounds?’ Your behavior bespoke more than simple concern for him.” The scorn in his voice cut like a knife thrust into her heart.

Alyse stared at him.

He does not know about Phillip. He does not understand.

She dashed tears from her eyes. “No, my lord, it was not simple concern for Thomas’s injuries. ’Twas much more than that.”

His eyes widened and he stepped back, as though she had dealt him a blow.

“I have been frightened all day, Geoffrey. Afraid you would be hurt, as Lord Braeton was. Or worse. I have seen worse happen.” She looked up into Geoffrey’s face, tears trickling down her cheeks unchecked. “I believed you would die today.”

Geoffrey stared, stunned by her words. “Why would you think that, Alyse?”

“Because it has happened before. I saw it happen.”

“What do you mean? Have you the Sight? Did you see me die in a dream?”

“Nay, my lord.” She paused then sat on the bench, weary beyond belief. “Did you not think it strange, Geoffrey, that you were betrothed to a woman as old as I?”

He shrugged. “I did not dwell on it over much. Ten and seven is not a vast age.”

She met his eyes frankly. “Twelve or fourteen years is an age more normal for a betrothal, my lord. I was betrothed the first time at fourteen.”

She expected the utter shock on Geoffrey’s face. Few knew of the incident. Apparently, Thomas had not or he would have informed Geoffrey.

“Barely of an age for knighthood, Phillip, the eldest son of Lord and Lady Merwyck, was my betrothed. We grew up together for, as I told you, I went to Lady Elizabeth at the age of seven. When I was fourteen and he eighteen, we were espoused.” Here she stopped and looked Geoffrey clearly in the eye. “We were the best of friends, Geoffrey. And we loved each other, having spent so many years together.”

Geoffrey drew in a breath slowly but said nothing. He stood staring at her, waiting for the rest of her story.

“Lord Merwyck held a tournament to celebrate Phillip’s knighthood shortly after the ceremony. And during the second day of jousting…” Alyse bowed her head and tears shook her voice. “He…he was hit with a lance to his helm.” Geoffrey hissed, but she continued relentlessly. “It knocked the helmet off and splintered in his face and throat. We all ran onto the field but…nothing could be done for him. He died with his head in my lap…with my tears on his face.”

The scene stood vividly in her mind, and sobs shook her body again, as they had done that day at Merwyck. Geoffrey pulled her into his arms, but could not stop the tears of fear and loss. He said nothing, but held her tightly to him and gently stroked her back. After a while, the tears dried to a trickle, though she kept her arms firmly wound around his waist. She could not endure the idea of letting him go.

“I realized only today he and Thomas bear a resemblance in coloring—light hair, dark eyes. Can you not see, then, why Thomas’s wounds affected me so?”

“Christ.” His soft oath blew past her ear, sending ripples of warmth through her body. “Why did you not tell me this before the joust, my love? Why keep your fears from me? Why not tell me of your other betrothed and how he died?”

“Would it have made a difference, my lord?” she asked simply, misery wracking her every breath.

“Nay, Alyse, it would not have kept me from competing in the tournament.” He sighed. “And I will tell you now, it will not keep me from competing in the future.” He held her face up to his though she tried to turn away. “But had I known of your fears, I could have comforted you with the very real differences between Phillip Merwyck and me.”

He peered insistently into her eyes and thumbed a tear from her cheek. “He was a young knight, Alyse, most likely untried and inexperienced. I have ten years more experience than he had. I have fought in many tournaments. I have fought in real battles. I know the risks and how to curtail them. And I have worked hard to raise my skills, to make my prowess with the weapons of my trade formidable. I do not boast of my skills, my love, but I have confidence in them. And I would beg you to have confidence in me. Trust in me, love. ’Tis all I ask.” He stroked her hair and smiled at her. “Did you truly fear for me, sweet Alyse? Have you indeed found some affection for me in your heart?”

She ducked her head then nodded. “You have conquered it, my lord. I would be nowhere but at your side.” Lifting her face, she searched his. “But this afternoon you shunned me, chastised me before members of the court. As you had never done before.” Tears again threatened.

“Stupid fool!”

Geoffrey’s hot scorn made her gasp and scoot away from him.