Chapter Fourteen #2
And then the contact happened quickly.
Addax had been sitting high in the saddle, with his lance higher than usual, which had Jonathan aiming for his left shoulder.
But as they came close, Addax suddenly lowered his profile in the saddle by hunching down, dropping his lance, and planting it right into Jonathan’s abdomen.
Addax threw his weight behind the lance as well, which meant Jonathan was hit with everything Addax had right in his center of gravity.
Addax’s lance shattered, Jonathan’s lance glanced off Addax’s head, and all of that pressure shoved Jonathan off his horse, backward.
He hit the ground in a heap.
The crowd went wild.
“Stay here,” Essien commanded softly.
Catalina grasped her daughter and pulled her well out of the way of the men rushing out of the staging area as Essien ran out onto the field where Addax was coming around by the lists, lifting a hand to the crowd, and Jonathan was flat on his back, barely moving.
As Catalina watched, Essien reached Jonathan and bent down over the man to see to his condition.
It took a few moments before Essien and a few other men were able to pull Jonathan into a sitting position.
The crowd, seeing that he was at least able to sit up, cheered for him.
Catalina thought it was rather sweet that Essien should be so concerned for his brother’s opponent.
To her, that showed his good character, kindness in a man she’d not experienced before.
But now she was standing in the staging area with her daughter, and there were men and horses everywhere, so she thought it would be best if she retreated to the lists, especially with Adabella by her side.
Unfortunately, Adabella wasn’t so apt to relinquish the puppy, and was concerned that the dog was hungry, so Catalina could see that her next stop would be at the same vendor, who had beef and beans so the dog could eat.
Taking her daughter by the shoulder, she directed the child toward the gate next to the lists. She was about to pass through it and on to the street beyond when she heard her name. Puzzled, she stopped, only to see Lance coming toward her from the staging area.
He was coming in behind her.
“Lady de Barenton,” Lance said, “may I have a moment of your time?”
Catalina was immediately on her guard. “Lance, I have nothing more to say to you,” she said. “I am not the person who requested the betrothal to Sir Essien and I cannot break it. Nor would I. I am sorry if you feel slighted by this, but there is nothing I can do.”
Lance put up a hand to silence her. “I know,” he said.
“My lady, I was not going to ask you to demand the betrothal be broken. I simply wanted to tell you that I’ve had an entire night to think about the situation and if I have made you uncomfortable with my suit, then I apologize.
You never showed any interest in me, that is true, but I am stubborn.
I thought I could convince you to see things my way.
I’ve never had anything belong to me in my entire life and I just wanted something…
someone… to belong to me. I saw that opportunity with you. ”
Catalina eyed him for a moment. Essien thought she’d been cruel to Lance, and she’d defended herself because he’d been relentless and annoying, so it was difficult not to snap at him again.
She was afraid that if she let her guard down, he might resume his unwanted attention.
She’d become so accustomed to having her guard up with him that it was difficult to lower it.
“Mayhap you saw an opportunity, but I hope you realize that I did not,” she said. “It was not personal, le Kerque. I simply did not want to remarry anyone.”
“But now you are pledged to al-Kort.”
“I am,” she said. “My father will not break the betrothal. He wishes for me to marry, so I shall have to.”
Lance simply nodded, as if he’d received confirmation for the last time. The last rejection, the last statement of fact. She didn’t want him and he had to accept that. After a moment, he drew in a long, pensive breath.
“But your father did not want you to marry me,” he said.
Catalina shrugged. “I would not know his mind,” she said. “My father did not share his thoughts with me. I suppose you do not bring what he wants into a marriage.”
“I realize that.”
“You are not going to file a grievance with the local magistrate, are you?”
Lance shook his head. “Nay,” he said, sounding defeated. “Why? You do not want me, so there is no reason to fight for something futile.”
“That is a sensible way to look at it.”
“Mama!” Adabella tugged at her. “We must feed the puppy!”
Catalina nodded to her daughter. “We will,” she said, but her focus returned to Lance. “My apologies. We must go. I wish you well, wherever you end up.”
Lance nodded, watching them scurry off with a squirming puppy in Adabella’s arms. While Catalina felt some relief to get away from him, Lance could only feel regret. Deep, deep regret.
Yet one more thing he couldn’t have in a life that was full of such things.
But now, it was over for good.
*
There were dancing dogs again.
Catalina had just purchased another bowl of beef and beans when Adabella spied the man with the dancing dogs.
They had to stay for the show.
Catalina ended up holding the puppy as it wolfed down the food while Adabella watched the dancing dogs with fascination.
Catalina lingered for a few minutes, feeding the puppy and thinking on her conversation with Lance, but a few minutes turned into a longer stretch because Adabella didn’t want to leave.
A half-hour passed, at least. She could hear the roar of the crowd in the lists, rising and falling, and she knew the bouts were going on.
She wanted to see Essien compete in the finals, so she finally had to break her daughter away from the dogs and drag her, and the puppy, back to the lists.
Adabella wasn’t happy and the dog wasn’t happy.
The moment they came within range of the staging area and the big stable situated on the edge of it, the puppy threw itself out of Catalina’s arms and raced across the staging area, back to the barn where its mother was.
Adabella started weeping because Catalina wouldn’t chase it, so Catalina ended up dragging her crying daughter back to the lists, where the two competitors for the championship were lining up.
It was a stroke of luck that she’d made it back in time, and as she sat down, she could see that Ines hadn’t moved from where she’d left her, still sitting with Brielle’s children and playing with something that looked like clay or earthenware cows.
Christin’s children were back, three little boys under the age of seven, and they had their father with them, an enormous man with black hair and black eyes who was a good deal older than his wife.
He sat on the bench with his two-year-old son over his shoulder while the five-year-old and seven-year-old were begging him to go down to the field and stand at the railing like their grandfather was.
He kept putting his big hand over their faces to shut their mouths, and it did not please them.
As they turned to their mother and began to beg, the man with the black eyes noticed Catalina.
“Ah,” he said. “Lady de Barenton, I presume?”
Catalina nodded. “I am, my lord.”
“I am Alexander de Sherrington,” he said. “And you are Essien’s betrothed.”
“I am, my lord.”
He smiled. “I was glad to hear the news,” he said. “Essien and I have known each other for a very long time. He’s a good man. May I wish you every happiness.”
Before Catalina could reply, Harald piped up.
“Essien will do well for himself by marrying her,” he said, interjecting himself into the conversation. “He will become the Earl of Mercia upon my death. No man can turn down such a title, even if he does have to marry a widow with children. A title like that will make men overlook much.”
It was a callous thing to say. Brielle, Christin, and Alexander were all looking at Harald in various stages of disgust as Catalina lowered her head in shame.
Her father was putting a monetary value on her worth as a woman, as a person, and that was obvious.
She’d always known that, but he’d never spoken of it to others with her present. It was embarrassing.
“I am not entirely sure the title even matters,” Alexander said steadily. “A man does not marry for a title alone. Or wealth. He looks for a woman of good character. At least, I did. But I married Christin instead.”
He meant it as a jest. Christin gasped in outrage, turning to him and pinching him on the arm where he couldn’t fight back because he had the toddler sleeping on him. But he laughed, low in his throat, grabbing her hand and kissing it before she yanked it away indignantly.
“What my husband is trying to say is that the worth of the woman is as great as her character,” she said. “It is in her moral standing, her poise, her graciousness. I’ve only just met Lady de Barenton, but I would say that Essien is quite fortunate she has consented to marry him.”
Catalina looked at Christin, her expression full of gratitude.
Christin smiled and winked at her before the roar of the crowd overwhelmed them and their focus shifted to the field.
The finalists began to take their positions, horses jittery, knights as cool as ice.
There was a good deal riding on this match and the very excitement of it was in the air.
“Look,” Christin said, pointing to the field. “It will be Essien against his brother. This should be a fine match because they are both tournament champions.”
Catalina could see Essien on the east side of the field now with his falcon-headed standard, while his brother was on the west side, closer to the staging area, bearing his dark green standard with the black dragon on it.