Page 19 of To Honor

“Though you will not be expected to joust in this mission of ours, it provides an opportunity for lessons in mounted combat as well as giving us an opportunity to strengthen and expand our fighting capabilities in many ways.”

Sir Adrian paired Roland with another of the recruits as the others watched. It went much the same all morn. When their instructor suddenly declared their training session over, Gareth did not waste a moment. He needed to get out of his armor and down to the village. Unfortunately, Sir Adrian had other plans.

“A moment, Sir Gareth.”

“Aye, my lord?”

“You need not restrain yourself against me.”

“I did not—”

“You did, and ’tis not necessary.” The man smiled through his closely trimmed gray beard. “I would see your full might the next time we joust.”

The chivalric code, one Sir Adrian was known to adhere to strictly, prevented him from admitting he had done anything other than give the man his full might already. Instead, he said simply, “Aye, my lord.”

Dismissed, he rode up to Roland and Alden. “I will see you both at archery lessons.”

“Do you need an escort to the village?” Roland said. Though he and Alden had just met the man, both agreed they admired his instant loyalty to Gareth.

“I would not entangle either of you more than necessary in this.”

“Ahh, so he admits it,” Alden said as they rode back to the keep. “It is an entanglement you ride so willingly into this day?”

Roland didn’t even attempt to hide his smile.

“I admit nothing,” Gareth said.

“It seemed to me you have. Roland? What say you?” Alden asked.

“In matters of the heart, I have little guidance to offer.”

Gareth doubted as much and voiced his thoughts aloud. “I’ve seen you with the maids at Castle Blackwood and will heartily disagree.”

“I did not say I’ve little experience to offer. With women, I have plenty. But guidance? Nay. Especially not with the daughters of men like Ashcroft.” He shuddered.

Shaking his head, with little time to spare, Gareth spurred his mount forward. “Until later, men,” he called back. Already he would be late to meet with Evie at the appointed time, and Gareth did not wish to miss her. Or worse, to have her believe he’d changed his mind about meeting her.

Was it improper?

Aye.

Dangerous?

Aye.

And yet, he’d never looked forward more to a meeting in his life.

10

Like the day before, Evelina tried and failed to walk slowly to the appointed spot. A lady simply did not run, yet the deeper she got down the path, Evelina wanted to do just that. Shaded by ancient trees, the path was even more overgrown now than the last time she’d been here. The stone benches and cracked fountain were a testament to the priest who had built this garden so long ago, even before she’d begun to spend her days in Ashcroft.

Amalia insisted on accompanying her, and while Evelina did not like the idea of her maid waiting at the entrance of the path, there was no dissuading her. Nor did Evelina believe Amalia when she said she was glad to use the time to look for herbs. Her friend’s dream was to open an herb shop, something Evelina was determined to help her do someday, even if she herself had no hope of being anything but a pawn in the game of men and their politics.

He was not here yet.

Standing at the edge of the garden, the small lake now visible, she continued to think on all of it. Her future. Amalia’s dreams. But most of all, Sir Gareth.

Since they’d met, she had thought of little else. Even her father had noticed at the meal last eve, commenting, “Are you ill, Evie?” Instead of asking why he cared, as he typically hardly noticed her, she instead attempted to be interested in his tales of the king’s misdeeds. Eventually excusing herself from the meal, she instead spent much of the eve lying on her bed, imagining—