Chapter Nine #4
There was something disapproving in his tone, and Catalina caught on to it.
“Nay,” she assured him. “I believe servants and soldiers must be treated with respect. But you must understand that Lance le Kerque has been trying to woo me since nearly the day he came to Eckington. He is persistent and annoying and tries my patience because he will not accept my refusal. That is what you saw, my lord—my insistence that he stop his pursuit of me, once and for all. He seems to think that, somehow, I will change my mind, but now that he has heard of the betrothal, he will have to accept it.”
Essien’s focus lingered on her for a moment before returning to the bailey, where le Kerque had been.
As if somehow he could see the man who was now evidently some kind of competition.
Perhaps he was even a threat, though Essien couldn’t know that for sure.
Not now. But time would tell if le Kerque accepted his loss like an honorable man or if he was going to make something out of it.
Something told Essien that he would have to be on his guard.
“I will accept your explanation,” he said. “Mayhap I should be plain with you—I do not treat my servants or men poorly, nor does my brother. To do so shows a lack of moral character.”
He was telling her what he expected of her, and Catalina wasn’t stupid.
She understood. A glimmer came to her eye.
“You behave like a prince,” she said, a smile tugging on her lips.
“You are benevolent to all, and that is admirable. I will say that I have never treated a servant or soldier poorly in my life, and if you do not believe me, you may ask any of my father’s men.
But do not ask le Kerque. Due to his relentless pursuit, my only choice was to be brutally frank with him, and even then, he probably would think I was flirting with him.
The man does not know when he is not wanted. ”
Somehow, Essien believed her. He didn’t know her, but he believed her.
Time would tell, of course, and he thought he very well might ask one of her servants what kind of mistress she was, but for the moment, he was satisfied.
He’d known enough scheming, dishonorable people in his lifetime and she simply didn’t seem the type.
“It is difficult to chase a woman when she does not want to be chased,” he said after a moment.
“I do not know le Kerque well, of course, so I cannot speak to the man’s relentless pursuit except to say that I do not blame him.
He saw something of great beauty and set out to claim it. You cannot blame a man for trying.”
She gave him a quirky smile. “Are you flirting with me?”
He shrugged coyly. “If you do not know, then I must be terrible at it,” he said. “Either that, or you are impervious to men’s charms.”
“Do they have any?”
He burst out laughing. “I would hope that I do, but if you must ask, then I must be a failure at that, too.”
She chuckled as he continued to laugh. “You are not a failure,” she said.
Then she glanced up at the sky again, noting the rise of the moon.
“And I fear I must return to my children. Ines usually awakens an hour or two after going to bed because she becomes thirsty, so I must be there when she awakens.”
“May I escort you?”
“I believe that is your right.”
“Right or not, I am asking permission.”
It was her turn to give him a coy expression. “Granted.”
Essien extended his elbow to her, as a mannerly man would, and she accepted.
As they began to walk across the bailey, heading toward the gatehouse, he was feeling exceptionally pleased to have this glorious woman on his arm.
She was witty and beautiful, not to mention uncommonly brave, and that was something that impressed him.
His first encounter with her had been interesting, to say the least, but his second encounter was enlightening.
He was definitely looking forward to the third.
“Where is your encampment?” he asked.
They were approaching the open gatehouse and she pointed off to the right. “Almost right on the edge of the competitors’ encampment,” she said. “The blue, yellow, and white tent is my father’s, and there is a fortified carriage where my children are sleeping.”
He couldn’t really see it, but he took her word for it.
In fact, he was rather enjoying the walk with her to the point where he slowed his pace a little.
He didn’t want it to come to an end. They were nearly to the gatehouse when someone ran into him from behind and big, hairy arms went around his shoulders.
He was being jostled about, so he tried to protect Catalina from the buffeting going on even as he turned to see who had crashed into him.
“Es!” It was Jonathan. “We have been looking for you. We have games going on in the hall and you are needed!”
Essien came to an irritated stop, turning to Catalina. “My apologies for what I am about to do, my lady,” he said politely. “I will get rid of him.”
He gently took her hand off his elbow before turning to Jonathan and shoving the man back by the chest. “Do you not see that I am walking with a lady, Wolfie?” he said angrily. “You nearly bowled her over with your rude behavior.”
Jonathan wasn’t alone. Ashton was there, also, the enormous blond knight with the dashing looks. Someone had once said he looked like an archangel, and he did, if one believed the paintings of those divine beings. He was also the less drunk of the pair, grabbing hold of Jonathan to steady the man.
“We were heading to the garderobe, but Wolfie saw you and went running across the bailey,” he said. Then he focused on Catalina. “My apologies, my lady, if he has upset you.”
Catalina shook her head. “Not at all, my lord.”
Ashton merely smiled and tried to pull Jonathan away, but the big knight wouldn’t move.
“I am not leaving until Es promises to come inside and be on my team,” he said, reaching out to grab Essien.
“De Norville has a serving wench on his shoulders and we are battling in the hall. The women are trying to push each other off our shoulders.”
Essien frowned. “God’s Bones, Wolfie,” he said. “Someone is going to get hurt.”
Jonathan frowned. “No one is going to get hurt,” he said. Suddenly, he pushed past Essien and grasped Catalina by the wrist. “Come inside, my lady. You can ride on Essien’s shoulders. We are betting money on who will win, so you could win a purse!”
Catalina was faced with a very big, very sweaty man who had hold of her arm.
Under normal circumstances, she probably would have shoved a finger in his eye, but she knew he was a friend of Essien’s.
He wasn’t trying to hurt her. God knows, the man was drunk.
Quite drunk. She saw Essien move to grab him out of the corner of her eye and she held up a hand to him, holding him off.
Her focus was on Jonathan.
“Come closer,” she said to him, crooking a finger. “I must tell you something.”
Jonathan leaned into her, weaving drunkenly. “Will you come?” he asked.
Catalina shook her head. “I cannot,” she muttered. “Sir Essien was taking me to see my dying mother and you are preventing him from doing so. Will you please let me go so that I may see my mother before she dies?”
Jonathan appeared stricken. He released her immediately. “Forgive me,” he said, too drunk to realize that she probably hadn’t brought her dying mother to a tournament. “You must go immediately. Forgive me.”
She smiled sweetly and reached out to take Essien’s arm again. “Thank you,” she said to Jonathan. “Good eve to you, my lord.”
She was pulling Essien along, who had heard what she said and was quite impressed by the way she handled that big, bumbling idiot. A loveable idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.
“Well done, my lady,” he muttered, his voice full of approval. “You handled Wolfie perfectly.”
She smiled modestly. “I can tell he has great regard for you,” she said. “He was not trying to hurt you or me. He simply needed to be gently handled.”
He looked at her, at her lowered head as she watched the ground beneath her feet, and thought that, perhaps, she was potentially a woman of substance.
It was difficult to tell after having known her less than a day, but he was usually a fairly good judge of character when his emotions didn’t get in the way.
He wasn’t feeling emotional about her other than polite interest for now, so he could see her more clearly at the moment than he might in the days and weeks and years to come.
So far, he liked what he saw.
“Well done,” he said again, patting her hand as he clutched his elbow. “You are a woman of tact.”
Catalina didn’t say anything. She was smiling, her head down, watching the ground pass beneath her feet.
They came through the gatehouse and she once again pointed toward her father’s section of the encampment, and it was, indeed, right on the edge of the encampment as a whole.
For safety’s sake, competitor encampments were always next to the castle in case they had to quickly move inside in the event of an attack, so that was simply the tradition at most locations.
They were just heading into the fringe of the encampment, with her father’s area about thirty feet ahead, when they began to hear shouting.
Bellowing, in truth.
Catalina came to a brief halt. “That sounds like my father,” she said, puzzled. “But why would he be yelling so?”
Essien wasn’t sure, but the closer they came to the tent and the general de Barenton encampment, the more yelling there was.
Two voices. Then Lance shot out of the big blue tent with Harald behind him, swinging something at him.
Essien couldn’t tell if it was a club or a mace, but it was something.
Harald was brandishing it like a weapon, striking Lance on the shoulder before the man swiftly moved out of his range.