Page 31 of To Honor

“He is quite good,” Gareth said, referring to their friend.

“Better than Sir Eamon?”

“Younger,” Darien said, coming up from behind them. “Stronger. But not more skilled. In four exchanges, I would guess each would be victorious twice. Their weaknesses balance the others’ strengths.”

Though the archer had been with them for just two sleeps, he had become a fourth spoke in a wheel of new recruits. The man charmed everyone around him—the other knights, their instructors, the servants. It was impossible not to like him, and Gareth did as well as anyone.

“I believe you are right,” he said. “It does seem Sir Eamon may be tiring.”

“Perhaps if you do plan to speak to him, if he loses to Roland, you should wait.” Alden sheathed his sword.

Gareth did the same.

“You will ask him about Lady Evelina?” Darien asked.

Last eve, he’d told Darien what Alden and Roland knew already: that he had been meeting the baron’s daughter in secret. He also confessed to all four men his worry that she could soon be betrothed and his unwillingness to let such a thing occur.

“I will,” he said, knowing Alden did not agree.

“He may be more loyal to Lady Evelina than her father,” Alden said, “but that does not mean if you confess your intentions, he will keep your secret.”

“Sir Eamon knows we meet and has said nothing,” he countered.

“Nor does he bear any love for Ashcroft,” Darien added.

Both Gareth and Alden looked at him just as Roland stepped back and tossed his hands in the air. A draw. The gathered crowd cheered.

“Why do you say as much?” Alden asked Darien.

“As you know, I was welcomed at Ashcroft Manor like you. He hid it well, but the sword master bears no love for Lady Evelina’s father.”

“That does not mean he will be complicit in Gareth’s scheme to win the lady’s favor,” Alden said.

“There is no scheme,” Gareth countered. “Simply a desire to be with her.”

Now was his chance. As the instructor dismissed the field, he left his friends behind and caught up with the imposing instructor. Where others refused to approach him, Sir Eamon’s perpetual frown and full beard not encouraging dialogue, Gareth had no such reservations. Sir Eamon had been kind to him, and more importantly, to Evie.

He liked the man and, more importantly, had none other with whom to discuss the very serious matter of Evie’s potential betrothal.

“Sir Eamon?” he called.

Slowing, Eamon turned just before he reached the armory. He looked Gareth up and down, as if trying to determine something.

“I wish to speak to you, sir,” he added, as if the instructor had not already reconciled that fact.

“About Lady Evelina?”

“Aye.”

“Come.” Sir Eamon led him away from the armory toward an open part of the field often overrun with knights training at swordplay. But it was nearly time for the midday meal, so most had abandoned the field. Evie had already told Gareth she could not meet him today, as her father was entertaining visitors once again. Thankfully, they were not guests of the matchmaking sort.

When they were far enough away not to be overheard, Gareth blurted, “I would offer for Lady Evelina’s hand in marriage.”

Sir Eamon was less surprised by Gareth’s admission than he expected. Crossing his arms, Eamon asked, “Do you love her?”

He did not hesitate. “Aye.”

“Does she feel the same?”