Page 17 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“Don’t bother,” said Raven, throwing her nose in the air. “Lady Lark won’t-”

Her words were cut off by her cousin’s answer.

“Och, I’d love that. Thank ye, Jonathon,” said Lark with a giggle, taking his proffered arm.

Raven looked over at Lark and shook her head, silently warning her not to do it. She wasn’t watching her, or mayhap she just didn’t care. Lark smiled at Jonathon and laid her hand atop his arm with no qualms whatsoever.

“Hurry, Raven. Take his other arm,” said Lark. “If we dinna move quickly, Uncle Corbett is goin’ to be furious with us.”

“I’m certain no man could possibly be angry with you, Lady Lark,” said Jonathon, giving all his attention to Lark and ignoring Raven completely. “You are so kind, and pretty, if you don’t mind me speaking so freely.”

“Not at all,” answered Lark, beaming with excitement.

“Your accent makes you unique as well,” Jonathon continued. “You–”

“Enough! Let’s go,” said Raven, taking Jonathon’s other arm and all but pulling him down the corridor. If she had to stand there and listen to his silly, shallow compliments any longer, it would bore her to tears.

“Excuse me, Lady Raven?” asked Jonathon as they walked.

“Yes?” She paid him a sideways glance from the corners of her eyes, not wanting to look directly at him. She’d seen his bright blue eyes with tones of indigo near the edges when he was atop her on the floor of the kitchen. They were truly spellbinding eyes, and she didn’t want to be drawn into them again. Or did she? Sadly, after hearing what he said to Lark, part of her wanted him to say kind things about her, too. Then again, what did any of it matter? He was only here temporarily. After the tournament she’d probably never see him again.

“That flower in your hair,” he said, cocking his head and stretching his neck to see it. His sudden perusal of her made her feel warm inside. She wondered if he’d notice she was wearing rose water as well.

“What about the flower?” she asked, thinking he liked it. Mayhap it was a good idea that Lark suggested she wear it after all.

“There is a big ant crawling on it. May I kill it for you?” He reached up for it, but Lark pushed his hand away.

“Never mind. I’ll do it myself.” She ripped the flower from her hair and threw it to the ground, proceeding to stomp on it, crushing not only the ant but also the delicate petals. When she looked back up, both Lark and Jonathon were staring at the ground with their mouths hanging open. “I didn’t want to wear the stupid thing in the first place,” she said, with a sardonic smile.

Raven hurried off to the great hall, no longer wanting to be holding on to Jonathon’s arm when she entered the room. She didn’t need a man’s assistance, and she certainly didn’t need a personal guard. That became even more clear to her when she stepped into the great hall to see her father talking with two of the ugliest men she’d ever seen in her life.

“Raven! Where have you been?” growled her father. “Come and meet Lord Belmouth from Manchester and Lord Whitehead from Liverpool. They will be competing in the tournament to win your hand in marriage and they requested to make your acquaintance ahead of time.”

Raven’s heart dropped in her chest. Just like his name, Lord Belmouth had a wide mouth on him that reminded her of a bell or possibly a frog. He was also probably closer to her father’s age than he was to hers. Lord Whitehead, on the other hand, didn’t have white hair like his name implied. As a matter of fact, the man didn’t have any hair at all. His round, shiny head gleamed in the firelight of the candles and torches lining the great hall. His ears stuck out like a donkey, and drooped down a little on both sides, reminding her of the ears of her hounds.

It sickened her to even imagine being married to either of these men. After Jonathon’s soft hair had brushed across her cheek and encompassed them like being in a tent, thinking of Lord Whitehead atop her with no hair at all made her want to retch. She couldn’t stop thinking of Jonathon’s mouth so close to hers as well. His lips looked strong and enticing. Not too wide, not too small. Just perfect for kissing. Looking back at Lord Belmouth, his lips looked more like a fish now than a frog. She could only imagine the feel of him slobbering all over her body. It sent a shiver of disgust right through her.

Something cold and wet touched her hand at exactly the same moment that she had the thought. It made her jump. She gasped, pulling back her hand to see that it was only her hound.

“Brindy, you scared me,” she said, hunkering down to pet the dog and kiss it on the head.

Her other dog, Copper, jumped up on Lord Whitehead, wagging its tail.

“Nay! Get that slobbery mongrel away from me.” Lord Whitehead pushed it away and stepped back, holding up his palms.

“So sorry, my lord.” It was Jonathon who came forward. He stepped in front of Raven, grabbing the dog by Lord Whitehead, and hunkering down to hold it. Copper licked his face, making him chuckle. It was as if he didn’t even mind being slobbered upon. “You need to stop being so friendly.”

Raven stood up. “I don’t think Lord Whitehead was acting friendly at all toward my dog.”

Jonathon looked up at Raven, then over to Lord Whitehead, and back again before he spoke softly. “I was speaking to the dog.”

“Raven, how many times do I need to tell you that your hounds aren’t welcome in the great hall when we have guests?” Corbett raised his chin, looking out into the room. “Where is the kennelgroom? He needs to take these dogs outside anon.”

“I’m not sure, my lord,” answered one of his men from nearby.

“I’ll take them,” offered Jonathon, starting to walk away, and then stopping and turning back to Raven. “What are their names?” he asked.

“Copper and Brindy,” Raven told him.