lips. Would he ever think only of himself? “’Tis not about—”
The sight of his face froze the words on her tongue. Only the tight, thin line of his lips betrayed his anger. Hurt, however, lurked deep in his eyes, summoned by his assumption of her continued rejection. He stood stoically ready to face her ire.
But it no longer existed.
Alyse sighed, her resentment draining away. “Nay, good my lord, never say that I have no regard for you, for ’tis false.” She spoke softly and avoided his eyes. Shame at her thoughtless words ate at her. “I believe you an honorable man and I have accepted our coming marriage.” She risked a glance at him.
His gaze flicked over her face doubtfully. “Then why, sweet lady, did you look like a heavy storm was brewing in your face? Tell me what is wrong, sweetheart, if ’tis not the banns?”
“But it is the banns!”
He stepped back, his mouth pursing with impatience. “Alyse, we have but little time. I must attend the king yet I have news that will not wait.”
She breathed deeply and shook her head. “’Tis not the reading of the banns that distresses me, my lord. But rather standing in front of the whole church, on display for everyone to gawk at that frets me. Everyone seems to stare only at me, looking for faults that can later be bandied about in conversation. And not just today,” she mourned, “but twice more we shall have to stand there, for all the world to see.”
His lips twitched.
If he laughs, I will curse him.
He managed to compose himself before grasping her hand. “My lady, I care not what the court says or thinks of me, but if any would offend you by word or deed, rest assured he would feel the sting of my displeasure before the world was yet another hour old.” His hard tone softened as he squeezed her fingers. “Mark not what they say, heed only my words when I pledge you my troth ’til death us do part.”
He kissed them and wound her arm through the crook of his as he led her away from the chapel toward Princess Joanna’s apartments. Although she was loath to admit it, his words, as well as his attentions, had soothed her ruffled feelings. She smiled inwardly to think that his regard for her ran so deep. A quick peek at him from lowered lids showed her his countenance bore a smile also. They seemed to have come far in but two days’ time.
As they approached the door of the Princess’s chamber, he turned and took both her hands. “My lady, I have news that I would share with you.”
He seemed both solemn and excited by whatever message he had brought. It had to be news indeed, for she had heard nothing, either last night or this morning, that would touch upon them. This mystery so bemused her that she almost failed to see him lean down, bringing his mouth mere inches from hers. She gasped, snatched her hands from his and ducked around him before he could draw closer.
“Would you share something else besides news, Sir Geoffrey?”
“That I would, little maid.” He spun around before she could back away. He darted his hand out to secure hers again and raised it to his mouth. “It seems, however, that I must be content with this.” He grazed her skin with his lips, skimming over the surface of her flesh with a floating touch that made her shiver. “And with my news. You know the king called for a joust, a Round Table, at Windsor next week to celebrate the princess’s betrothal?”
Alyse nodded and frowned. The mere thought of jousting sent a quiver of dread down her spine. But his statement was hardly news; the court had been preparing for the tournaments for weeks.
“It has been decreed by His Majesty that on the first day the festivities will begin with a procession of ladies and knights of King Arthur’s court, starting at the Tower of London and winding through the town out to the lists. There are to be twenty-five knights on the king’s side who will joust and fight in a pas d’armes . So there needs be twenty-five
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