Page 8 of The Sword and the Damsel (The De Veres #2)

W hen Lady Alais left the hall, Victor finally came out of the corner where he’d been lurking. Yes, lurking. What else could he call it? He’d been standing in the shadows, avoiding everyone while watching Lady Alais’s suitors fawn all over her, and trying to keep himself from marching over and giving them all a taste of his fists.

Except Lord Louis, who seemed respectful enough, looking at Lady Alais like a beloved daughter rather than a prize horse to be bought. Not that Lady Alais would ever agree to wed Lord Louis, thank heavens.

Time to go to work. Clearly, all of these suitors were unsuitable. Victor merely needed to find out why for Lord Daniel. When Lord Daniel had first given Victor the assignment, it was all he could do to conceal his cringe. But after watching this pack of idiots all afternoon, he was warming to the idea. It was time to go make some friends and sabotage all their hopes and dreams regarding Lady Alais.

Shoving off from the corner, he headed straight to the center of the pack of wolves. “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” he cajoled, arms wide. “The night is young. Don’t tell me you’re retiring already. Come have a drink with me, and I’ll tell you everything I know about Lady Alais. I’m her personal guard, you know,” he said, leaning in and lowering his voice persuasively. “You might learn something to your advantage.”

He was improvising, but it seemed to be working. All eyes were trained on him.

“Thank you for your kind offer,” said Lord Louis. “But I must decline. You young men go enjoy yourselves. I’m too old for carousing.” He bowed out with a kindly smile and headed for the door. A good man. An old man. One definitely too old for Lady Alais.

That left four—Lord Guy, Lord Alphonse, Sir Elias, and his cousin, Robert.

“Excellent proposal,” said Lord Alphonse, who was already slurring his speech slightly from drink. He threw an arm around Victor. “As you say, the night is young. What say you, gentlemen?”

“Yes, an interesting proposal, cousin,” said Robert, eyeing him suspiciously. “You do know more than any of us about Lady Alais. Why exactly are you volunteering to tell us?”

Of course, his cousin was wary. Robert had never trusted him an inch, even though they’d grown up together. It was disappointing, really. All Victor had ever wanted was to be friends, but his cousin always treated him as a rival. And Robert had been particularly unfriendly ever since Victor’s injury, as if he was disappointed that Victor had the gall to survive, thereby snatching Guestling from his waiting hands. But his cousin couldn’t possibly be that greedy and resentful, could he? After all, Victor had no plans to marry, so Guestling would pass to Robert in time. Still, his father always told him he should treat Robert as a brother, so that was what he would try to do.

If Victor was feeling charitable, which he wasn’t, Robert was a reasonable match for Lady Alais. Not a brilliant one, but Lady Alais didn’t seem to care about lands and position. And the two of them seemed to genuinely like each other. Victor knew he shouldn’t let old family prejudices get in the way of Lady Alais’s happiness. Nonetheless, the idea of the two of them together made Victor’s skin crawl, though he didn’t like to examine why too closely.

“I like a bit of sport,” Victor said with a shrug, knowing Robert would bite. The man couldn’t stand to see anyone else win. “I think the competition will be more interesting if you are well informed. Besides, you haven’t had much of an opportunity to taste the pleasures Winchelsea has to offer, cooped up here in the castle. It’s a very hospitable little town with a surprising variety of entertainment. It would be a shame for you all to miss out.”

“Well, I’m in,” said Lord Guy, rubbing his hands together. “It is rather dull here at the castle.”

Robert eyed Victor for a moment, then said, “I suppose I’ll join as well. I shudder to think what you might have in mind for entertainment, Cousin, but I wouldn’t want anyone to gain an unfair advantage over me.”

It worked. Brilliant.

“Sir Elias? Will you be joining us as well?”

Piercing blue eyes bored through Victor as Sir Elias stood silently observing him. “Fine. I will join,” Sir Elias said at last. “Like Sir Robert said, I wouldn’t want anyone to have an unfair advantage.”

Victor smiled, but it must have gone wrong because Sir Elias recoiled. No matter.

Like St. Patrick, I have played my flute and secured my snakes. Now to lead them to their demise.

“Come, gentlemen. Follow me.” Victor turned and led the way through the entry hall, out the portcullis, through the front courtyard, out the castle gates, and down Castle Street. He deliberately passed Birdie Street. Best to save that for later when they were all properly drunk. Instead, he led them to The Victory Cup, an establishment frequented by Winchelsea’s wealthier inhabitants that happened to hire irresistibly pretty serving girls. It was important to keep temptations close at hand. He wanted to give the suitors every possible chance to trip up.

“My lords, welcome,” said a saucy, red-headed wench, spreading her arms to display her decolletage and winking at them as they entered. “We are honored by your presence. Please make yourselves at ease.” She gestured to an empty table, polished to a dull gleam, at the front of the candle-lit room. The floor was covered in fresh rushes, and a musician played a lute by a roaring fire.

Victor pulled out the bench and slid into a seat. Lord Guy slid in next to him, followed by Lord Alphonse. Sir Elias and Robert sat opposite. Dear Lord, how he loathed the lot of them.

“My name is Kate, and I’ll be serving you this fine evening. What can I get for you gentlemen?”

Staring fixedly at her chest, Lord Alphonse said, “Your finest wine, and keep it coming.”

“Right away, my lord.”

“Best to bring us some bread and cheese too,” Victor added. He wanted them drunk but not so much that they made themselves ill. He didn’t want to have to wheel them back to the castle in carts, after all.

The serving girl returned swiftly with pewter cups and two sizeable jugs of wine. Once she finished pouring for them, Victor raised his cup.

“To the lovely Lady Alais.”

“And her ample dowry,” Lord Guy added, making Lords Alphonse and Robert chuckle.

“And her ample bosom,” Lord Alphonse said, laughing too hard at his own joke.

Victor clenched a fist beneath the table and took a deep breath. This is what you wanted, remember? They were here so that he could report back on their unworthiness. It wouldn’t do for him to punch them senseless for revealing themselves exactly as he hoped.

Sir Elias wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes. “Sir Victor, if you please, would you tell us what you have to say about Lady Alais so that I can leave these fools to their drink? Their company offends me.”

Lord Alphonse sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. “Oh, come off your high horse, Sir Elias. I’ve seen how you look at her. You want to tup her bowlegged as much as the rest of us. Admit it.”

Sir Elias’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword.

“Gentlemen,” Victor said quickly, making a placating gesture. “Save it for the tournament.” Though truth be told, his own blade would be drawn right now were it not for his scheme to discredit them all.

He had to take control of this conversation before the others killed each other. Lord Daniel wouldn’t be pleased if his tournament fell apart because of a tavern brawl.

“Lady Alais,” Victor said loudly, gaining their attention, “is looking for a handsome champion—”

“Well, that rules you out,” Robert interrupted.

Why did Robert have to needle him like this? “I was never in the running. I am merely her bodyguard.”

“But surely you must have been tempted,” said Lord Alphonse, “spending all that time alone with a sweet little filly like that.”

They didn’t know, couldn’t know, the things that went on inside Victor’s head. He clenched his hand harder beneath the table, digging his nails into his palm.

“Is she pure?” Lord Guy asked.

This time, Victor’s hand flew to the pommel of his sword despite his best intentions. “What did you say?”

“I heard a rumor about her and a troubadour,” Lord Guy continued, oblivious to his danger. “Is she untouched? She seems almost too good to be true—beautiful with good childbearing hips and a dowry that—”

“She is pure as the driven snow.” If Lord Guy finished his sentence, Victor knew he couldn’t stop himself from running his sword through the wretch’s throat. “You mustn’t listen to gossip, Lord Guy,” he said, attempting to tamp down his violent urges and speak calmly. “I heard a rumor that you feel so inadequate in your manhood that you stuff lamb’s wool down your breeches every morning, and we all know that can’t be true.”

Lord Guy turned scarlet and clenched his jaw, staring down into his drink.

Good. That put the man in his place.

Victor didn’t actually know how far things had gone between Lady Alais and her troubadour, but he would be damned if he was going to sit and listen to a bore like Lord Guy insult her honor.

“I am sure the lovely Lady Alais is above reproach,” Lord Guy mumbled into his cup.

“Indeed, Lady Alais is all that is beautiful and virtuous,” said Robert with an inscrutable smile. “Any man would be lucky to have her for a wife, and I aim to make her mine.”

Sir Elias looked daggers at Robert, then turned back to Victor. “I tire of these fools and their posturing. What can you tell us that might aid us in wooing her? If you have nothing useful to say, I will return to the castle.”

Victor took a long, deep drink as he considered how to respond. He had no intention of helping this pack of braying asses in their courtship, but he had to say something. Perhaps he would have a little fun and lead them astray.

“What would you like to know?”

“What is her favorite flower?” asked Lord Alphonse, pouring himself another cup. “Ladies like flowers.”

“Violets.” Victor once heard her declare violets boring. He looked forward to seeing her expression as they all brought her bunches of them.

“Her favorite perfume?” Robert asked.

“Anything rose-scented.” In fact, she found rose scents cloying and wrinkled her nose whenever her friends wore it.

“But isn’t it really her father we need to woo?” Lord Guy asked. “Tell us about Lord de Vere. How do we get into his good graces?”

“By pleasing his daughter,” Victor answered a little too sharply. He still hadn’t forgiven Lord Guy for his earlier comments. In a calmer tone, he continued, “Lord de Vere has given her the freedom to choose, as long as she does so quickly. He wants her married by Christmas.”

Robert smiled triumphantly. “She’ll choose me. I’ve already got her wrapped around my finger.”

Victor took a deep, calming breath. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care that Robert was right. There was no reason for his hand to grip the hilt of his sword once again. If his stomach churned at the thought, then it must have been something he’d eaten. Where Lady Alais bestowed her affections was none of his affair. His duty was to defend her honor until she married. That was all.

Sir Elias shook his head and stood. “I’ve had enough of these popinjays. I bid you all good night.” He headed for the door.

Too bad. Victor had failed to eliminate him from the running. Ah well. There was still time before the tournament.

“What a shame. His loss. What say you to moving along to a place that offers a bit more feminine hospitality?” Now to go in for the kill.

“No, thank you,” said Robert, rising. “I’ve no interest in your idea of hospitality. I believe I shall turn in as well.”

Victor knew very well that Robert enjoyed a brothel as much as the next man, but perhaps he was on good behavior for the sake of Lady Alais. And the man was his cousin. He shouldn’t always assume the worst of him. His father would want him to give Robert the benefit of the doubt. He nodded goodnight to his cousin and let him go.

“Shall we, gentlemen?”

He left coin on the table and led Lord Guy and Lord Alphonse off to Birdie Street.

Two down. Two to go.