His words warmed her and eased her worried mind.
Julian leaned forward. “I am hoping you will still meet me,” he whispered into her ear. “For our picnic.”
She pulled back to look into his eyes. He had honored his vow. She intended to reward him. She nodded quickly.
Mace cupped Elora’s elbow, guiding her to the tent flap and called, “Watch your back. Osmont has quite a temper.”
Chapter Eighteen
Julian watched Elora exit.The tent flap closed behind her, and an ache rose in his chest. He missed her already. And yet, there was something Baldwin had said to him that he couldn’t get out of his head. The thought poisoned his mind, rotting the corners like an open wound. “Be very careful what you tell her,” Baldwin had warned.
He had told her Osmont’s weakness was his right shoulder. And yet, when he jousted, Osmont left that shoulder completely unguarded. Why?
He pushed the thought from his mind. That was hardly as important as finding out who had destroyed his lances.
As Elora and Mace walked back to the citadel on the trodden grass path, Elora’s mind volleyed from Julian’s injury to his broken lances. Someone did not want him to win the joust. Her fists clenched. She knew exactly who that person was. She privately fumed.
“Are you well?” Mace asked.
She snapped out of her reverie and looked at him. His brown eyes were lined with concern. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
“You’ve been quiet and frowning the entire walk. I didn’t think I was bad company.”
Elora sighed, lowering her gaze to watch her slippered feet take steps over the grass. “No. No, you’re not. I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking.”
“Always a dangerous thing.”
She grinned and looked up at him. The pale scar running from his cheek to his jaw contrasted sharply to his tanned skin. “It was very nice and honorable of you to loan Julian some lances.”
“I live to serve.” He bowed playfully, his brown hair swaying over his shoulders.
“Hmmm.” She stared at him thoughtfully. “You live to sow chaos.”
His mouth dropped, and he put a hand over his heart. “You wound me!”
“Iknowyou. Still, you have shown remarkable courtesy. In both loaning Julian lances and in helping with his injury.”
Mace took a deep breath. “I loathe seeing anyone in need. Especially a fellow knight.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Truthfully, I like him. He surprises at every turn.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” She grinned, thinking of Julian’s strength of character, his determination to win, his warm touch, and his… She heard laughter and turned her head to see a group of men walking toward the fields. She spotted Osmont among them in a bright green tunic. Her entire being tightened with rage. Osmont. Hehadto be the one who had sabotaged Julian’s lances. There was no other knight who was so dishonorable. If Julian had forfeited, Osmont would have won.
She picked up her skirts and stalked to her cousin; her hot gaze seared into him. She stepped before them, halting their progress. “A word, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Osmont glanced at his friends. “I’ll meet you there.”
They nodded and continued toward the field of honor.
Mace remained out of hearing range as he waited for Elora.
She leaned forward, demanding, “How could you have destroyed Sir Julian’s lances?”
Osmont’s dark brows lifted, and he pulled back slightly. “I am offended you think so lowly of me.Ithought it was your brother.”
Her mouth dropped as she inhaled quickly. “How dare you. Edward is a respected, undefeated champion. He would have no reason. But you would. Sir Julian already defeated you. You were afraid he would do so again.”
