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Geoffrey’s eyes blackened with shame and hate. He staggered back on his feet and took the weight on his good leg. His bravery impressed Gervais; there was hope for the lad yet.
“Kill me then, if that is what you want. Take her from a dead man, and she’ll love you forever, won’t she,” Geoffrey mocked, waving his sword.
“I’m not here to kill you. I came to take my bride home, where she belongs. It’s time to be a man, Geoffrey. You’ve lost her; there are others who will serve you better.” He held his ground but didn’t parry the wavering blade.
Geoffrey’s face paled. “She said the same thing. She thinks she’s not worthy of me. She calls herself devilish.”
Gervais laughed. “She is. She is,” he sighed. “Oh, Geoffrey, this isn’t what you were destined for, is it? Fighting me in the thick of a forest on a broken leg for a woman who gives her heart only once, and never again. She has all but married me, and I can’t give her up.”
Geoffrey’s lips trembled. “I thought I couldn’t either.” He lowered his sword.
“And now? How can she possibly be the right woman for you when she came away with me without protest?” Gervais maintained his guard. Geoffrey was a dangerous fuse waiting for either a match to ignite his passions or a pail of water to dampen his desires.
“She wrote to me, said she wasn’t giving up on me, then this one letter arrived, and I thought she’d been coerced into writing it. But she has really changed her mind. Why?” Geoffrey released a quiet sob.
“Because she knows what she needs, and while it hurts you, it liberated her. She is a fr
ee woman, Geoffrey, free to choose, and without a care for dowries or reputation. She’s chosen me, I’m sorry. I never intended for you to be sorely injured by my pursuit of her.” He lowered his sword and approached the hunched knight. Geoffrey offered no resistance and relinquished his sword to his better opponent.
“My father told me to find her, that if I didn’t, then he would throw me out. He wants her dowry.” Geoffrey wiped his nose on his sleeve. Sweat trickled down his brow and mingled with his tears.
For a moment, he seemed young enough to be Gervais’s son, and woefully immature. Gervais wasn’t sure whether to clout him around the head, or give him a paternal hug of sympathy. While Geoffrey never stood a chance at catching Matilda, he might have a better opportunity with another young woman who was equally lively, slightly more obedient, and rich.
“You know, my cousin, Marcia, is visiting. She’s due to leave later today, and she requires a valiant escort. She arrived without one, which was not appropriate, and I would have her taken home by somebody I trust.”
Geoffrey’s face transformed, casting off the melancholy frown with a swiftness that surprised Gervais. “Was she the pretty girl who sat by Matilda’s elbow last night?”
“Indeed. She’s of the same age, a little more worldly as she has travelled much with her father, who’s a burgher. A rich one, too. He made his money buying nutmeg, or some such spice.”
“Spices?” Geoffrey’s eyes widened. The spice trade was guaranteed to bring wealth to any who ventured into it.
“But, of course, you’re a knight, the son of another knight, and you’ll be seeking a more suitable bride.” He patted Geoffrey’s arm. “I should not interfere a second time with your affairs.”
“But she needs an escort, yes?”
Gervais nodded. “I would appreciate the offer, if you’re making it.”
A new passionate fire had been lit, and thankfully for Gervais, it was seeking fuel in a different direction. The wick burning brightly, he allowed it to take flame by retreating from the fight. The grinning Geoffrey took back his sword and sheathed it.
“You must think me fickle, my lord. But you’re right. I cannot pursue Tilda, not if she is set on you. She would hate me. Marriage must be built on love, yes?”
“On that we are agreed. If you can walk a little further, then follow my tracks that way,” he pointed to where he’d come from. “Your horse has taken refuge with mine. Ride back up to the castle and introduce yourself to Marcia.”
“What of your squire, your people. Won’t they attack me in retaliation?”
The boy had sense, something that he’d almost lost with his foolish endeavour. Gervais slipped off his signet ring.
“Give this to Jacob and tell him you have my permission to meet Marcia and take her home. They will not believe you took it off me without my cooperation. You well know that would be impossible.” His lips twitched with amusement, but Geoffrey didn’t argue the point. Geoffrey understood that he never had a chance at beating Gervais in a sword fight, or in any fight. Or hunt.
Geoffrey took the heavy gold ring on the palm of his hand. “You trust me with her?”
“I do.”
The young man’s hand trembled, and not with fear, but excitement. Red-faced, Geoffrey clutched the ring to his chest and bowed deeply. “What about Matilda? She’s lost hereabouts, I’m sure.” Geoffrey was genuine troubled. “It’s all my fault.”
“Yes, it is. But she’ll not be lost for long, have no fear. I’ll find her. It’s probably best that you leave, or she might run farther away.”
Gervais watched the knight hobble off, his back proudly borne, his chin lifted up. The solution proved easier than Gervais had anticipated. A match for Marcia, one that would please her father and mother, Gervais’s aunt, since it involved an old noble family. Marcia would be delighted to be raised up to a titled lady.
