Sin and Surrender (24 page)

She laughed as if Paul had just said something amusing, letting her hair slide about her shoulders sensuously—who had ever thought that hair could be such a weapon?

The meal was a short one, as the men returned to their lodgings to prepare for the first round of jousting. Juliana silently helped Paul don his armor, and he told her he’d never had a better squire.

Out in the fields surrounding the castle, she gave him a kiss worthy of sending her hero off to battle. He laughed and gave her backside a push as if sending off a child.

She glared at him, murmuring, “We should quarrel now and again. Do I look like I could slice you apart with my eyes?”

“I’m shivering with fear, glad I am to be facing an unknown opponent instead of you.”

“I’d knock you from the saddle,” she said sweetly.

He saluted as he left. She saw Joseph and Timothy fall into place beside Paul as he went to see the order of competition. Over her shoulder, she spied Theobald openly following in her wake, her guardian.

“Juliana!”

She turned to see Margaret hurrying toward her, waving cheerfully. The other woman wore a dress as pale blue as the morning sky, her blond hair a sunny crown of curls beneath a fluttering veil.

“I am full of excitement,” Margaret said, taking her and beginning to pull.

“Where are we going?” Juliana asked, smiling.

“To the stands, of course. The ladies who have men competing are all sitting together.”

“And who is your man in this competition?” she asked.

Margaret’s blush lit up her whole face. “Well … I am not sure. I—I sincerely hope a knight asks for my favor, but … well … I cannot be certain. But we must be positive!”

“Could that knight’s name begin with an A?”

Margaret tugged on her hand and kept walking. “I hope to be surprised.”

The ladies looked like a flock of colorful birds in the several tiers of stands erected next to the lists. As Margaret marched up the steps to the first tier, an older woman with a regal but craggy face beneath a towering headdress rose to stop her.

“Lady Margaret,” she said politely, “these seats are for ladies only.”

Margaret glanced back at Juliana in confusion, then said, “My lady, no gentleman follows me.”

Lady Redesdale imperiously lifted her brows, then glanced pointedly at Juliana. Margaret inhaled with sudden understanding.

Juliana kept her shoulders back, her chin up, looking proud and unashamed. Most of these ladies knew that Juliana the Concubine had been forced to become
what she was, and so far they’d been polite but distant. Apparently, they drew the line about acting as friends before several hundred guests at the tournament.

“My lady,” Margaret began.

“Nay,” Juliana interrupted, then spoke softly. “Your place is here, Margaret. I don’t wish you to shame your family on my account. Your friendship is too important to me.”

Margaret leaned down from the top step, clasping both Juliana’s hands in hers. “But that’s the point! Our friendship—”

“Is between us, and I know it will remain strong. I do not wish to sit with such women anyway.”

“Then I will not—”

“Nay, a certain gentleman will be looking for you. Stay there, on display, as pretty as you are.”

“You keep interrupting me, Juliana,” Margaret said, her shoulders slumping. “You leave me no choice.”

“Good. I will meet you afterward. And let us pray that Paul and Alex do not meet!” She pulled her hands away, curtsied grandly to the countess, then walked toward another group of stands filled with villagers and guests.

She was rapidly learning her place in the world, and coming to peace with it. She would never be like those women, although her lineage was as fine as any of theirs—not that they’d agree if they knew her family
name. But in her heart, she knew the truth. She would be different, a woman outside the society she was raised in, living her own life.

She didn’t have to give up everything about being a woman, she thought, glimpsing Paul’s vibrant tunic of gold and blue over the armor that emphasized his broad, muscular body. He carried his helm under one arm, and rode his horse with easy grace, while Timothy and Joseph followed behind with several lances propped on their shoulders.

Pavilions had been erected near the lists for the use of the competitors, and they rode in that direction. Another man swung easily into his saddle, and as he turned, Juliana recognized Alex. She felt a momentary thrill to be seeing the culmination of her friend’s childhood promise. And then she slowly began to smile as he walked his horse toward the ladies’ stands. Several ladies waved and giggled, but Margaret only wore a serene smile and remained calm. He paused before her, and although Juliana could not hear what he said, she saw Margaret blush and nod, then remove a scarf from her sleeve. He maneuvered his horse close, and insisted she lean over the rail to tie her favor about his upper arm.

Several ladies applauded as he rode away, and Margaret looked about as if searching for someone. She spied Juliana, they waved at each other, and then suddenly Margaret started pointing.

Juliana lifted both hands in confusion.

A man’s voice said, “Juliana, are you ignoring me?”

Laughter spread around her as she turned to find Paul mounted on his horse at the edge of the stands. He looked so handsome, so confident, his eyes soft with intimacy as he watched her.

“I await your favor.”

“How chivalrous of you, Sir Paul,” she said, her voice husky and low.

Though she knew she put on a show, it was also a private display just for him, as she reached into the low neckline of her gown and slowly pulled forth a bright green scarf.

There were whistles and shouts of encouragement, but Juliana barely heard them. Paul reached for her favor, but she leaned over the rail and tied it on herself, giving him a display of cleavage.

She didn’t care what others thought of her—Paul was showing her that she was very much a woman, and giving her the opportunity to experience the true pleasures of her femininity. She would lie with him on her own terms, knowing it could only be temporary, but rewarding all on its own.

Paul kissed her hand, then rode away, and she waited, breath held, until she saw that Alex was jousting first, but not against Paul. She sagged back on her bench in
relief. It took Alex two passes to knock his opponent from his horse, and she watched Margaret applaud wildly.

Several matches later, it was Paul’s turn. An uneasy murmuring moved through the crowd at the announcement of Paul’s name. Did the guests already wonder at his true identity?

It was not difficult to remain relaxed. She had no fear he would allow himself to lose so early in the day. But her heart picked up its beat as he thundered down the lists, staying on his own side of the rail, while his opponent remained on the other. Bent low over his horse, Paul guided his lance into his opponent’s armor, just twisting his wrist so that it skidded harmlessly off the steel, rather than unhorse his opponent. Paul absorbed a blow to his own shield, reeling backward in a dramatic fashion, but keeping his seat.

At their respective ends, the two men each took another lance from their servants, and Timothy spoke urgently to Paul, as if giving him instructions. Again, the opponents galloped at each other, and this time Paul missed the man’s shield altogether, while partially coming out of his saddle as the other man’s lance splintered against him.

The crowd gasped, then cheered, shaking their heads and laughing at the display of mediocre talent. Juliana
wondered how difficult it must be for Paul to pretend that he could not have taken this man clean off his horse with one lance.

This time, he managed to make it look almost accidental as he knocked his opponent to the ground.

Timothy and Joseph joined her cheering as if in great relief.

“Juliana!”

It was Margaret again, and Juliana leaned over the rail to wave to her friend. Margaret beckoned for her, and Juliana stepped over men’s boots and ladies’ shoes until she reached the stairs.

To her surprise, Margaret clasped her hands and swung the two of them briefly in a circle. “Was that not exciting?”

“Alex was certainly a strong competitor. I’m not so certain about Paul, but then I do not know the fine points of the rules.”

“He is moving on to the next round, and that is all that’s important.”

“Speaking of Alex …” Juliana began.

Margaret’s blush rivaled a red rose. “‘Twas very kind of him to honor me.”

“You think him merely kind?” Juliana teased. “I think he was selfishly claiming before all his right to court you.”

Margaret clapped her hands on her cheeks. “Do
you really think—nay, I will not assume that, only to become disappointed.”

“Alex is too honorable to disappoint a woman once he’s shown her favor.”

“You say you knew him in childhood, but that is a long time ago.”

“Are you saying I am elderly?”

Margaret laughed. “Certainly not, especially when one considers the way you offered your favor to Sir Paul.”

Embarrassed, Juliana looked away. “He likes my attention,” she said lamely.

“Attention? That was … an interesting way of showing it. Very romantic.”

Carnal,
Juliana thought, but did not say aloud.

“Should I have done something more with my scarf?” Margaret asked.

“Nay! We are in two very different situations.” Juliana looked about to make certain they were not overheard. “Do not say such things to others, or people will think I am a bad influence upon you.”

Margaret’s smile faded. “But you are not, Juliana. It was ungracious of the ladies to forbid you from sitting with me.”

“I paid them no heed, and neither should you.”

“Lady Kilborn spoke to Lady Redesdale in your defense. She said she imagined there were many women at
the tournament in your predicament, and that we should not be so quick to judge.”

“The countess is kindness itself,” Juliana murmured, impressed that the younger woman had stood up to someone so formidable.

And then she remembered that Lady Redesdale’s husband was a traitor. Juliana well knew how it felt to be caught up in the scandal and crime. She pitied Lady Redesdale, whose world was about to change for the worse.

“Is there space for me to sit with you?” Margaret asked.

They spent the next several hours cheering for each contest. Both Paul and Alex won again, and would participate in the continuation of the joust the next day.

To Juliana’s surprise, she caught sight of Paul and Michael standing awkwardly together afterward. They seemed to be talking; she couldn’t tell about what, but it was brief, as Michael soon walked away. The Bladesman had never made any secret of his disapproval of the choices Paul had made. Juliana could only hope that they could somehow find common ground—and not just for the roles they were playing.

And then she realized that boys were playing football in the field beside Paul—and young Edward was once again standing on the edges.

Juliana saw Paul glance at Edward, then look away.

“Has Edward forgiven me?” Juliana asked.

Margaret smiled. “For being in the way of his sword? You know he doesn’t blame you for his foolish mistake. He’s simply getting old enough to notice that he’s more awkward than the other boys.”

Edward’s ball was at his feet, rough leather casing sewn together over a bladder. With a running head start, he attempted to kick the ball, and it went sideways instead of forward. When he saw Paul watching, Edward grabbed his toy and ran away.

Paul glanced at Juliana, an eyebrow raised. Surely he didn’t think she blamed herself for this as well. Or did he expect her to play the mother and run to the little boy?

“I’ll go to Edward,” Margaret said with a sigh.

After Margaret had gone, Paul walked back to Juliana. She gave him a bright smile, but he only studied her. A horse went thundering down the lists behind her to wild cheers. Neither of them winced at the shattering of lance against shield.

Why did she care so much what he thought of her or her attachment to children?

She thought he would walk away, leery of her womanly feelings. Instead, he gently cupped her face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her. This was no kiss meant for display, for a masquerade. She felt a sweet, sad yearning.

She had fallen in love with him, and the realization of that frightened her even as she felt relief at admitting it. There was no rational decision to make when she felt like this, only decisions of the heart. And she was going to be hurt by him, in a way no man had ever done before, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Her worries about her position with the League fell away as she looked into his beautiful blue eyes. Thoughts of a lonely future without him were as dust to her. It was the now that mattered, this moment, and what they meant to each other.

And all she could think about was the coming night.

P
aul watched Juliana across the great hall that night, trying to ignore the more intense way some people were watching
him.
The rumors were circulating, leading to awe in some eyes, disbelief in others. The traitorous lords were doing their subtle work.

And it was taking too long. He wanted to be done; he wanted to have Juliana to himself, with no mission, no Bladesmen. He wanted to persuade her to lie with him, to let him show her true lovemaking, unlike the men she’d lain with before. He wanted to worship her, just like …

Just like Alexander Clowes was worshiping Lady Margaret with his gaze. At least he wasn’t watching Juliana, Paul thought wryly.

But Juliana was watching the two lovebirds she’d introduced, and she was smiling.

Did she want that for herself, a courtship? Perhaps even a marriage and family, if her awkward relationship with little Edward meant anything. She lost the
chance to be wooed while still safe within her family. The League had taken it all away. She had no dowry, so she thought she could never marry.

“Surely, you’ve already shown that you’re obsessed with your courtesan.”

Paul turned to see Michael standing beside him, hands on hips, his freckled face impassive.