Page 28 of The Scot

“Aye.” He did not hesitate. “When the bastard approached her, Cait had an uneasy feeling. She knew it was wrong for her to be there alone, by the riverbank. She’d taken a walk, you see, and ventured too far from the tents. It was her first tournament.”

The Tournament of the North was also the first one Roysa had attended. She’d found it quite overwhelming, really. It was like the busiest marketplace imaginable stuck in the midst of a battle. The place teemed with activity from sunup to sundown.

She could imagine easily wanting a moment of respite.

“Conrad and I went looking for her. Lance and Guy came upon the scene at nearly the same time we did. They were strangers to us, as they were to Cait, but they did not hesitate.” His jaw clenched. “They did not hesitate. The four of us attacked a fully trained knight with the type of vengeance that could only be wrought from boys of ten and four knowing they are severely disadvantaged.”

Terric stood abruptly. He took his time filling his tankard, and she felt sure he was seeking a respite from the horrible memory. When he sat back down, his hands no longer clenched the poor tankard as if he were attempting to choke the life out of it.

She attempted to shift the tone of their discussion.

“What kind of woman do you suppose I am?” she asked, mimicking his earlier words.

It worked. Terric’s slow smile did something to her insides. But he was no longer angry, at least.

“When I first met you, I thought you the worst sort of woman, if I am speaking truly.”

Though she’d sensed as much, his words still stung.

“The kind of woman who cares about her appearance, but not to impress others, as I first believed. In truth, I loved such a woman, who later became enamored with my brother when she realized it was possible he would someday be chief.”

The fleeting stab of pain at Terric’s admission he had loved a woman scared her.

“Become chief? ’Tis such a thing possible?”

And why? Though she kept that question to herself.

“It seems unlikely at the moment, but if he matures,” Terric shrugged. “In order to properly care for our clan, and the people of Dromsley . . .” He stopped. “But we were speaking of you.”

Terric leaned forward, “And why you sought to impress your father.”

She sucked in a breath.

“At least, ’tis why, I believe, you concerned yourself with your looks at first. Now it has become a habit. You play the role of a dutiful daughter, the sort of woman who will one day manage a castle of her own, and you do it quite capably.”

His words were painfully accurate, so much so Roysa suddenly regretted asking the question.

“You are also devoted to your family. A quality I can admire. You are fierce and self-contained and have no need to seek the opinion of those around you.”

Roysa tried not to let him see how the words affected her.

“You are the sort who is so beautiful others almost fear speaking to her.”

He believes me beautiful.

She hid her embarrassment at the compliment behind the tankard, sipping slowly and trying to untangle his words.

“Have I missed the mark, my lady?”

When he stood, Roysa thought she might faint. She’d never done so before in her life, and this would be a poor time to start. The fire she’d thought made the chamber quite comfortable now seemed stifling.

Too soon, he stood at the foot of her seat. And held out his hand.