Page 13 of The Sword and the Damsel (The De Veres #2)

A s the last of the crowd left the tournament grounds and the vendors packed up their stands, Victor busied himself with a thousand different tasks. Anything to avoid thinking about Lady Alais. For a moment, he’d thought… No. He didn’t dare let his mind go down that path. Better by far to focus on the tournament.

And what an eventful tournament it had been. If he didn’t know better, he would think someone was out to kill him. Was it an accident of aim in the joust? And what about Sir Elias and the stranger? One succeeded in drawing blood and the other nearly decapitated him. Robert himself seemed to be out for blood. Four men taking deadly aim in one day was not a coincidence. Someone was hoping he wouldn’t survive the day.

But who would want him dead and more importantly, why? Robert didn’t have a motive that he knew of. Well, aside from the obvious…. But was Robert willing to kill him over Guestling? If so, why didn’t he let him die in Spain? He and Robert had never been the best of friends, but it seemed so unlikely Robert would orchestrate an attempt on his life.

As for anyone else being after him, he didn’t have any debts and hadn’t deflowered anyone’s daughter. Certainly, he’d angered his fair share of merchants in Hastings, keeping them in line on behalf of his aunt, but not enough for any of them to want him dead. Maybe this had something to do with the run-in with Matthew’s men? But how did Sir Elias come into it? Canterbury had always welcomed Victor in the past. Did something change? Canterbury might not like the link between Hastings and Winchelsea that he represented, but would he go to such lengths to disrupt it?

In the distance, he saw the knight he jousted against walking over to his horse to depart. Victor moved up from behind and grabbed his arm.

“What the—” The man spun to confront Victor, but he was too slow, and Victor pinned him against a tree with his arm twisted behind his back.

“What happened in our joust wasn’t an accident. I want to know who’s after me and why.” Victor gave the man’s arm an extra twist, making him yelp.

“I don’t know who’s behind it. I swear. I have gambling debts, and my money lender offered to cut me a break if you had an accident at the tournament. I don’t know why.”

“What’s the name of this money lender, and where can I find him?”

“His name is Matthew, and he travels around. He’s from Canterbury, but he comes to an inn in Hawkhurst called the Sword and Shield on the Kalends of every month. That’s all I know. I promise.”

Victor shoved him away and drew his sword, pointing it at the knight. “Get out of Winchelsea, and never come back.”

The man rushed off to his horse and escaped as quickly as he could manage.

Lord Guy came walking toward the paddock and stopped short when he saw Victor with his sword drawn. “Good heavens, man! The tournament is over. You don’t have to go brandishing that thing at innocent people.”

“Not so innocent. He tried to kill me,” Victor said, sheathing his sword.

“What, here? In front of all these people?”

“During the tournament. He admitted moments ago it was no accident his lance was aimed high.”

“Heavens! Well, I’m glad I’m getting out of here then.” Lord Guy made for his horse.

“You’re not staying for the feast? I thought you were still hoping to try your luck with Lady Alais.”

Lord Guy instructed a stable boy to saddle his horse, then turned back to Victor, beckoning him closer. “Just heard a nasty rumor that she’s compromised,” he said in a loud whisper. “Apparently Sir Robert had his way with her, and then she rejected his proposal of marriage. Can you imagine? Murderous knights and compromised ladies… I’m getting out of this place as soon as I can.”

Victor was shaking with rage by the time he finished. “Where’s Robert?” he asked in a quiet voice filled with violent intent. It was a slanderous lie. Victor had guarded her well. He was certain his cousin never had the opportunity.

“Left hours ago,” Lord Guy said, mounting his horse. “Didn’t want to stick around after she rejected him. Can’t say I blame him. How humiliating. I’m afraid I must be off. I bid you adieu.”

Victor watched Lord Guy depart, unable to move, fury rooting him to the ground. Robert was behind this. There was no doubt in his mind. It was exactly the sort of vindictive thing his cousin would do to get back at her for rejecting him. In fact, Victor strongly suspected he’d done it before. In Hastings, there was a lovely young wife of an aging nobleman who’d caught Robert’s eye. When she’d rejected his advances, a rumor had begun circulating that they were lovers.

Victor had never been certain that the rumor originated with Robert. His attentions to her had been sufficient to cause a stir even without her requiting. Even so, he’d always thought Robert was behind it somehow. And now, the similarities in the two situations were too great for it to be a coincidence.

Poor Alais. Poor, sweet, innocent Lady Alais, who was wearing his scarf, who had kissed his cheek, and given him a ring. He knew she was only being kind to him. There had been a moment in the castle when he almost let himself hope, but he’d realized he was imagining things. He felt too much for her, and it was clouding his perception.

But she didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this. He thought about his visits to Jane. However annoyed he was by the interest of the town in his personal business, it hadn’t escaped his notice that they excused him. He was allowed to seek solace. He wasn’t proud of it, but he wasn’t punished for it either. A woman who was even rumored to seek pleasure, though, was doomed. Robert’s lie would ruin Lady Alais’s life.

Thinking of Jane gave him a pang. A woman of her profession was the lowest of the low. He went to her because he was hopelessly in love with Lady Alais, but he wasn’t blind to the kindly affection Jane had for him. In a different world, he might have married her and lived quite happily for the rest of his life with her as a beautiful and adoring wife. In this world, however, it wasn’t possible for one of his station to marry one of hers. Besides that, his heart was bestowed elsewhere, hopeless as that might be.

Victor stood by the paddock, hoping Lord Guy was wrong and that he might catch sight of his cousin. He watched as each of Lady Alais’s suitors came for their horses, except for Sir Elias, who seemed to have left early. Each one mumbled about being misled or her being “damaged goods”. Lord Alphonse had the temerity to grumble about her questionable virtue, as if he himself hadn’t spent the entire last week making inappropriate remarks about her. Victor fought the urge to challenge them to combat to defend her honor, realizing that it was probably for the best if they all left. None of them were good enough for her. None of them deserved her if they were scared off so easily, especially if they believed she was a woman of easy virtue and low morals.

Especially when he was sure that they—like him—would easily lie with any comely woman who was willing to let them.

Lord Louis was the last to ride off. He apologized to Victor repeatedly, saying he didn’t believe the rumors, but couldn’t continue to pay court to someone with a damaged reputation. Victor knew Louis was trying to be conciliatory, but he wanted to smack the man over the head for being so cowardly. What was the point of chivalry if you abandoned your lady love in her hour of need?

Victor rode back to the castle slowly, weighed down by dread. He didn’t know what he would find there, but he knew he had to come to Lady Alais’s defense. He’d given his word of honor to safeguard her. Robert couldn’t be allowed to sully her like this. Her family had to be made to understand that this was an invention. This was not of her doing. There had to be a way to fight it. There had to be a way to undo the damage. He couldn’t think of one, but he was determined to try. Even though he knew it was all a lie, he couldn’t help feeling he’d failed to defend her as he should.

But this was no time to dwell on his failing. Lady Alais needed a champion, and he was ready to be that for her, whether she recognized his efforts or not. He’d long since given up hope of her returning his affection. He would fight for her while everyone else ran away. He would stand by her when everyone else fled. He was hers, come what may. She wore his scarf. She gave him a ring and a kiss. He would happily spend the rest of his life serving her for the favor she’d shown him that day.