10. Baron
BARON
Ihad never been so deeply amused as I was that day.
From across the tournament grounds, I watched Leopold try to impress Laurel for hours.
The man worked harder for her attention than most soldiers worked in training and Laurel played him beautifully.
She gave him just enough indifference to make him determined to win, then always rewarded him before he became too discouraged or frustrated.
It was clever. Infuriatingly clever.
She never looked at me for long but every now and then, when Leopold turned his head or became too occupied with hearing himself speak, she would glance my way and flash the smallest smile. I craved her attention just as much as Leopold did, but I couldn’t do a single thing about it.
After winning the swordfight, I should have given my own companion more notice, but she didn’t seem to mind my inattentiveness.
I couldn’t even remember her name. She had latched herself onto my arm the moment she accepted my rose and seemed content to wave at anyone who looked in our direction.
Her cheeks were pink with excitement, and she spoke in a constant stream that required very little from me except the occasional grunt or nod, which was fortunate, since I was not in the mood to give her more than that.
During the feast, I was only a few seats away from Laurel and Leopold, but it was impossible to eavesdrop on any of their conversation.
The hall was too loud. Servants moved in and out with platters and goblets clinked against the tables.
Men shouted across benches, and laughter rose from every direction until the entire room seemed to hum with it.
I could barely take a few bites of the meal. A steady line of men came up to me with questions and concerns about laws, taxes, and recent arrests. Some questions seemed genuine, but others felt like they were testing me to gauge if the new sheriff would be easier or harder to push than the old one.
I answered each question at length, partly because the matters were important, and partly because it saved me from listening to the girl at my side. She tried to fill every spare moment with gossip about gowns, friendships, and which knight had smiled at which lady across the field.
I had never been serious about any girl before Laurel, and sitting beside someone who wanted my attention only because I had won a tournament reminded me why. I doubted that I said more than ten words to my companion during the meal.
Any time I needed to leave the table briefly to talk to someone, she would trill something like, “Hurry back soon, Handsome!”
After the final course was cleared away, servants directed everyone into the ballroom, where an orchestra was already playing music.
Right. The dance.
The girl on my arm pulled at me, eager to have everyone see us together, and though I guided her over, I couldn’t help my eyes sliding over to where Leopold had swept Laurel onto the dance floor. They were both graceful dancers and I hated Leopold for that.
I’d never seen Laurel look so beautiful. She had always been striking, from the first time I’d seen her in her old green tunic and leggings, with her hair hastily braided. Even when she had been a prisoner in camp, dirty and furious and determined not to show fear, men had turned to stare at her.
But tonight, she was stunning and I could barely tear my eyes from her.
The dress she wore was slimming and flattering to her figure and her long red hair flowed down her back, catching the candlelight whenever she turned.
She even had some makeup on so her face brought out every feature.
Her eyes looked brighter and her mouth looked softer.
I was just like every other fool in this very ballroom, wishing she would glance his way.
Several men tried to cut in, but Leopold rebuffed them every time.
He kept one hand at her waist and refused to let her dance with anyone else and Laurel was certainly giving him plenty of attention.
I kept reminding myself it was all an act on her part.
She was gathering information, which was doing exactly what she needed to be doing.
Still, I couldn’t stop wishing it was me she was looking at that way.
I led my partner through the dance moves as best I could, but I was far from accomplished in the area of social graces. I knew formations and battle strategy and how to wrestle, but dancing was another matter entirely.
The most I could hope for was to avoid stepping on my partner’s feet while I moved through the steps with as little awkwardness as possible. She didn’t seem to care. She clung to me during every turn, waving at all her friends whenever she saw them.
I tried not to watch Laurel with Leopold but it was impossible. She seemed entirely too comfortable with him, and I did not like the greedy look in his eyes. During one spirited song, they danced close by. As he twirled Laurel past me, I felt a brief tug at my left trouser pocket.
It was so quick that if I had not known Laurel, I might have missed it. She raised her eyebrows meaningfully at me over Leopold’s shoulder as he swept her away again.
As soon as I could politely make an excuse, I left my companion at a small table so I could get us drinks. She seemed pleased that I was showing her some attention at last and settled into her chair with a smile.
I walked slowly toward the table where tiny glasses were lined up in neat rows and slipped my hand into my pocket. At first, I only felt my coin purse, then my fingers brushed against a thin, folded slip of parchment.
A group of men argued loudly over which knight had fought best during the melee. A servant refilled a pitcher and a lady laughed too loudly at something her partner said. No one nearby seemed to be watching me.
I withdrew the parchment and unfolded it just enough to read Laurel’s handwriting.
Richard in Trifels Castle, to be
tried by his Holy Emperor, Henry the Sixth.
Destroy message immediately.
She had done it.
While I had been trying not to grind my teeth every time Leopold touched her waist, Laurel had gotten exactly what we needed. My chest filled with fierce admiration. This was why I would never be happy with any woman other than Laurel. She could do things no other girl could.
Then the last line of the message struck me again.
Destroy message immediately.
I folded the parchment into my palm, picked up two glasses, and returned to the table.
My companion was there, as well as Laurel and Leopold. Laurel was fanning herself with a napkin and chatting merrily with the girl I had brought to the dance. I offered a drink to my companion, which she happily accepted, and sat in the empty chair between her and Laurel.
Leopold clicked his fingers at a servant and ordered a dish of cheeses and fruits to be brought over. The servant hurried away then returned with a platter, which he offered to Laurel with as much pride as if he had grown the grapes and aged the cheese with his own noble hands.
“Thank you, my lord,” Laurel said. She accepted the plate, set it on the table, then glanced over and noticed the folded paper still tucked between my thumb and palm.
My fingers tightened around the parchment.
How on earth was I supposed to destroy it here?
I couldn’t place the paper into the flame set in the middle of the table.
Everyone would see. If I dropped it, someone might find it.
If I ripped it, the pieces could still be gathered and read.
I considered spilling my glass over it, but the motion would be too obvious with Laurel already watching me.
“So, you’re the new Sheriff of Nottingham, are you?” Leopold asked me. “Tell me, what exactly does that position entail?”
“His job today was to make all the girls swoon!” giggled my companion.
I ignored her, and Laurel hastily turned her laugh into a hacking cough.
Leopold reached over and rubbed her back with familiar concern, and I forced myself to look away before my face gave me away.
What a smarmy bloke. My companion continued, “And you never said what you want me to call you. Baron? Ooh, or maybe Bear-Bear?”
“Sheriff will suffice,” I told her shortly. Laurel coughed harder into her napkin.
I redirected my attention to Leopold before I did something unwise. “I’m in charge of collecting taxes and arresting criminals, as well as carrying out their punishments. I also lead King John’s first platoon of soldiers.”
“Do you practice with the javelin?” Leopold asked swiftly.
“Rarely.”
“I do.” Leopold puffed out his thin chest. “I excel at it. If you ever need tips, I’m the one to consult. It isn’t about brawn, either. It is about skill. A fine art, as I tell my many servants. It’s all in the shoulder and wrist.”
My companion seemed impressed by this grand statement and leaned forward to ask more. Leopold continued to speak at length. I let him. A man who loved the sound of his own voice shouldn’t be any threat to me. Laurel would see right through him.
“Why, my lord, this food is divine,” Laurel gushed, and handed him a few grapes, but instead of taking them, he caught her wrist and ate them straight from her hand.
I had an immediate desire to break his arm.
“Sheriff?” Laurel turned her attention from Leopold to me and offered the small plate of cheese cubes and grapes.
“Why don’t you try some? Here, eat it.” Her smile turned mischievous for the briefest moment.
She glanced once at the paper still concealed in my hand, then raised one eyebrow meaningfully.
I stared at her. Surely she couldn’t mean... But what other choice did I have?
I picked up a few pieces of cheese and fruit, then tossed everything from my palm into my mouth and swallowed before anyone could see what I had done.
The parchment stuck to my tongue for one horrible second, then dragged down my throat. I took a drink immediately and forced myself not to cough.
I tasted ink all night.