Page 49 of A Knight for Gwenllian

The bark of a laugh split the darkness. “Like you supposedly did for Siân all those years ago, you mean? Very good, my friend.” The laughter stopped. “Now tell me, how did you really meet her?”

As might have been expected, Christopher thought he was jesting, but that was what had happened. It now seemed so long ago.

“That is really how I met her,” Alexander said quietly. And his life had not been the same since.

“Siân’s sister was attacked?” All traces of amusement had vanished from Christopher’s voice, and his hand had most probably gone to the hilt of his sword, a natural reaction. “And you never thought to tell me?”

Alexander shrugged. “I haven’t seen you in two years. I didn’t think you needed to know I’d met her. After all, with her family living so close, and you being married to her sister, I was bound to run into her sooner or later.”

“Yes, during a banquet or some such, not because she was assaulted and almost raped! Jesus, I did need to know about that, so I can⁠—”

“Calm yourself. I stopped them. Nothing happened.”

No, nothing, except everything had been turned upside down.

“You should still have told me.”

Alexander knew that, and had Gwenllian been anyone else, or rather, had nothing else happened between them, he would have told his friend. He had not wanted to keep his meeting with her a secret, but their dalliance, certainly… It had therefore been better not to mention her at all, as he had feared betraying a level of interest in her that would appear suspicious.

The risk of doing so was all too real.

Christopher knew him too well not to detect that something was not as it should be. And if he guessed what had happened, he might well strangle him for debauching his young sister-in-law. The worst of it was, Alexander could not have blamed him because he had done more than debauch her. Their first time had been at Gwenllian’s instigation, admittedly, and he might be forgiven for allowing himself to be swayed by her arguments. But the rest…

The rest had all been his doing.

In Scotland, he had let her tie him up and carry out the more scandalous exploration of his body with her hands and tongue. Then he had enjoyed tying her up in turn and doing the same. He had made love to her out in the open, ignoring the risk of being seen. There had even been a naughty encounter on the battlements once. In England, it had not been any better. The day she’d come back, he had pounced before she could utter more than his name and taken her up against a tree. He had spent a week making wild, passionate love to her in secret and then, as if that were not bad enough, he had watched her ride away knowing they might never meet again.

All of this, Christopher would object to. Alexander would not put it past him to force him to make the offer of marriage he had callously denied Gwenllian.

The problem was, he could not.

For weeks, he had fought the urge to ride to Esgyrn Castle and beg her to come back. When he had finally accepted that doing so would only lead to more trouble, it had taken him months to convince himself that the ending of their affair had been for the best. The whole thing had been a disaster. And this time, no matter the attraction he still felt for her, he would not allow himself to be swayed.

He would have to tell her that whatever had happened between them was over.

And he would not touch her.

He looked at Christopher, who was still scowling. Now that he had told him how he’d met Gwenllian, he would have to distract him. If they carried on talking about her, it would not be long before his friend understood that there was more to this story than he’d let on.

“Do you know, I took part in a tourney last month, and a Lord Spelling had the gall to tell me that he was looking forward to beating me a second time, though I do not recall ever meeting him, never mind competing against him. I have no idea who he might be. Does that name ring a bell?”

As he’d hoped, his friend burst out laughing. “Yes. He is the late Lord Cantle’s cousin.”

In other words, Siân’s first husband, the old man who had married her to save her reputation but never consummated their union. Alexander knew that already; he’d only mentioned the man to change the subject. As soon as Lord Spelling had boasted about beating him again, he had understood what this complete stranger might be referring to.

Some ten years ago, in order to gain access to her, Christopher had taken part in a tourney organized by Siân’s husband. He had done so under the name of Sir Alexander Rathbone and kept his helmet on at all times so as not to be recognized. And in the final joust, he had run against Lord Spelling. The man was therefore understandably convinced the two of them had already met.

“Did he beat you? I wouldn’t be surprised. You are less skilled than I am, pup.”

“Of course, he didn’t beat me. Unlike you, I did win the tourney, so maybe I am the better of the two.”

Christopher was not impressed by the argument. “I only lost that day because I didn’t want my identity to be discovered, and well you know it. I could have sent your Lord Spelling to eat dust a dozen times over.”

“You keep deluding yourself. The fact is that you didn’t. So we’ll never know what you’re capable of.”

“I can send you to the ground next time we spar if you like. Then we will know for sure.”

“I’m not worried, old man. You seem to spend more time running after children than wielding your sword these days.”