Read Online To Touch The Knight by Lindsay Townsend - Free Book Online Page A

“Are we to be archers this afternoon?”
    â€œIt is a worthy sport,” Lady Blanche replied. “But first there is another contest for you, my lord.” She stretched her arm and pointed to the uncut mass of hay and flowers in the middle of the next field. A straggle of haymakers, no doubt fewer than in the years before the pestilence, had already started, moving slowly in the bright sunlight and rising heat.
    â€œThe princess tells me that in Cathay it is considered a rich game for the nobles to cut and gather many flowers for their ladies.”
    â€œArmloads of lilies,” said the princess, “but here cornflowers and daisies will suffice.”
    â€œArmloads? Not a posy, then?” Ranulf kept his face still; she must not know this would be easy for him.
    â€œArmloads, sir knight,” repeated the princess firmly. “A task for you alone, my quest for you.” Laughter bubbled in her voice.
    â€œWhat of the other knights?” he asked, still straight-faced.
    â€œThey will now begin the archery contest,” Lady Blanche replied. “The knight who first makes threescore best hits of the target shall have my especial favor today.”
    â€œA contest which you will join only after you have completed your first task,” the princess added, with a nod to Lady Blanche.
    The two women had clearly devised it between them.
    Ranulf grunted, to hide his amusement. No doubt the haughty Eastern female assumed he would fall way behind with his task, but he would show her. “Will you walk with me to the western field, Princess?”
    â€œWith my lady’s leave.”
    She nodded to Lady Blanche, who said at once, “But of course, Princess. I would see the beginnings of the archery contest first, but you and whoever of my damsels that wish to watch Sir Ranulf battle with flowers . . .”
    She trailed off, leaving the other knights smirking and the younger women giggling when the Lady of Lilies spoke up.
    â€œIt will be my pleasure.” She sounded as if she was smiling, but Ranulf knew he would be laughing later.
    He glanced at her feet as he offered his arm, she accepted and they fell into step together. For a moment he savored her sweet perfume, liking the golden cloud of her cloak and the way she came just to his shoulder. An image of her resting her head against his rib cage surprised him with its pleasing force. “Not bare-shod today, Princess?”
    Her veil flickered as she looked down at her neatly booted feet. “It is no joy to walk so in a wheat or hay field, sir.”
    â€œI thought the people of the East did not eat bread?” He had recalled that from somewhere and was not even sure if it was true.
    â€œI have walked in other places than Cathay,” she said quickly. “Why were you late, Sir Ranulf? Lady Blanche was reluctant to agree to my contest, but when you were so tardy, she grew out of temper and changed her mind.”
    â€œI needed to speak with someone, a good friend of mine.” He had sought out Giles, to see if Giles wished to take part in the contest with him, but Giles was hawking that afternoon with the heiress Maud and had left the camp with no word to anyone—typical Giles, really.
    â€œIt is good to have friends.” The princess glanced behind as she spoke, to see if her gaudy steward was keeping pace with them. (He was, a dignified step or so behind.)
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œI know so.” She clapped her gloved hands together lightly, to emphasize her point.
    She always appeared in gloves, Ranulf recalled, and he wondered why. To disguise work-worn hands, perhaps? No one about the camp had any memory of his maid of the stream, but he still had an idea on that; a wild idea to be sure, but one which fit all points. She was as small as the brown maid, as slender . . .
    Intending to test more, he said, “Perhaps we have traveled to the same places at different times. Have you been to