Page 16 of To Honor

Earlier, Evelina had ridden into the village with Amalia, discussing where she and Sir Gareth could speak, when her friend rode ahead, telling her to meet by the well. Plenty had seen her there, but thankfully Amalia had a better plan than she. The alehouse it would be.

“Inside with you, my lady,” the alewife said the moment she appeared on the doorstep of the thatched-roofed structure. To many, the house on the west edge of the village looked like the others—a timber frame and stone foundation with only the wooden sign designating it an alehouse. Inside, hay was strewn on a wooden floor, the focal point of the main room a stone hearth, which had been lit to provide warmth and light given there were only small windows throughout the building. Along one wall stood a long wooden bar, behind which ale barrels were stored. In some ways it appeared like a small hall with its wooden tables, one of which was already set with two mugs atop it.

“A pitcher of ale for you both,” Mistress Lucy said. A pretty woman with short brown hair, not very much older than herself, the alewife nodded to another room off the main hall. “I will be in the kitchen with Amalia after they arrive. The doors open after midday meal, as you know, so . . .”

She trailed off. It would not do well for her and Sir Gareth to be here after patrons began to arrive. Lady Evelina understood.

“We wish only to speak a bit,” she said.

“As you should, my lady.” Mistress Lucy scurried to the door at the knock. Watching her, knowing who was behind that door, Lady Evelina attempted to calm her rapidly beating heart. Breathing deeply, she folded her hands together, hidden beneath the sleeves of her gown, and not for the first time, wished she had a mother to counsel her in such matters as this reaction to Sir Gareth.

So many of the recruits were handsome men. Nearly all had shown interest in her. But only this man made her heart beat as it did.

All eve she’d wondered, was he as handsome as she remembered? Would she feel the same way today as she had the first and second times they met?

As he stepped inside, her questions were all answered. This man was unlike the others.

Reading about Arthurian legend and the ideals of a chivalric knight was very different from seeing its embodiment stride toward you. It was as if Sir Gareth had brought with him all of the air she breathed when he entered the alehouse.

Suddenly the hall was awake. She was awake.

How long had I been sleeping?

Vaguely she heard Mistress Lucy and Amalia say something about being available if they were needed in the kitchen. Then suddenly, they were alone.

He did not hesitate.

Striding toward her, dressed in a surcoat of cream and deep blue and looking every bit the tourney champion, Sir Gareth gave her his arm. Guiding her toward the table beside the hearth, he held her gown as Lady Evelina sat. Taking his own seat across from her, he immediately lifted the mug of ale provided.

“Cheers,” he said, as she did the same. “To a better plan than I’d devised on finding a way for us to meet.”

She drank, wondering what his plan had been. When she asked that very question, Sir Gareth smiled. “I had none but speaking with you in the village. I’d not have dared to ask you to accompany me privately, unescorted.”

“I hope you do not think ill of me that my maid arranged this.”

“I’m certain I could not think ill of you for any reason, Lady Evelina.”

To her knowledge, Evelina had never been alone with a man in such an arranged way. She may have found herself unescorted with household knights, but nothing such as this.

“You should speak to my father. He will have many reasons to offer.” She’d meant it as a jest, but Sir Gareth did not take it as such. Instead, he grew serious.

“What reasons might he think ill of you?” he asked.

“I am a disappointment to him,” she said, more honest than she’d meant to be.

“Surely not,” he began before she stopped him.

“I did not know my mother but am told she was a docile woman. A fine hostess, quite adept at knitting and even singing to entertain guests. I am nothing like her,” Evelina finished.

“What are your interests, besides chess, my lady?”

She smiled. “Evelina, or Evie. I offer the use of my given name to all knights with whom I find myself alone in the alehouse,” she teased.

“Evie. And I, simply Gareth, if it pleases you.”

It did please her. “My interests, Gareth,” she said, testing out his name without the title, “are more academic than most women’s. I was blessed with an extremely knowledgeable tutor and love to read, history most especially. There are none I aspire to be like more than Lady Elara Wycliff, though I’m told often by my father she is very much an exception.”

“To hold such a position?”