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Chapter 9
With Conrad’s arm around her shoulders to keep her warm, Willow anticipated watching the dancing flames of the bonfire happening now outside the castle’s gate. The nighttime festivities were starting, and Willow was anxious to be a part of it all. At first, she had hated the fact Conrad was her escort tonight. She didn’t think she would have a chance to talk to any of the single noblemen, but that proved to be wrong.
“Sir George,” said Conrad, holding a goblet of wine in one hand, and keeping his other arm around her shoulders as they strolled through the courtyard. A crowd of merchants had their tables set up along the wall of the keep. They had been selling their wares all day. As the sky grew dark, they lit torches and lanterns hoping to make more sales during the nighttime hours.
“Lochwood, I came over here to get acquainted with the bride-to-be.” Sir George bowed and reached out for Willow’s hand.
“Sir George, that is so kind of you.” Willow extended her arm, letting the man kiss the back of her hand. Conrad’s hold on her shoulders tightened in what she knew was a silent warning of saying he didn’t like the kiss and that it was lasting too long.
“That’s enough, Canterbury,” Conrad remarked, clearing his throat.
“What’s the matter, Lochwood? Jealous that I’m kissing your girl’s hand?” George chuckled.
“I’m not his girl,” Willow stated, wanting all the men to know she was still available to marry.
“Nay, I’m not jealous.” Conrad nodded to someone behind him. “It’s just that Ashington and Gaunt want their turns as well.”
Willow turned to see Sir Chester and Sir Bedivere approaching from the midst of the crowd.
“Ah, there you are, Sir Chester. I wondered where you’d disappeared to,” said Sir George.
“I’ve been busy this morning.” Sir Chester kissed Willow’s hand next. “Sir Bedivere, I waited for over an hour for you in the great hall, but you never showed.”
“Good evening, Lady Willow.” Sir Bedivere kissed her hand next. When he touched her, Willow cringed but didn’t pull away since it wouldn’t be polite. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Sir Chester, I was waiting at the mews for you,” Bedivere told him.
“We were supposed to meet in the great hall.”
“My mistake. I suppose I was too engrossed in talking with the Ladies Anabel and Grace and must have forgotten. I do think any of the three ladies would make fine wives. Don’t you think so, Lochwood?”
“Mmmph,” Conrad grunted, taking Willow’s arm and escorting her away toward the stable. “Excuse us, my lords, but Lady Willow and I are going for a ride.”
“We are?” Willow looked back over her shoulder at the other men as Conrad guided her to the stable. “It’s the middle of the festival and the dancing is about to start. Why on earth would we go for a ride now? After all, we won’t see much in the dark.”
“Come, Willow,” was all he said, helping her to mount his steed that wasn’t even saddled.
“Wait,” she said, as his hands encompassed her waist and he lifted her atop the horse. “This horse isn’t prepared for an outing.”
“It’ll be easier for the both of us to ride without the saddle.” He climbed up behind her and reached around her for the reins.
“My lord, where are you going?” Toby bolted into the stable grabbing a saddle. “Let me saddle the horse for you and Lady Willow.”
“Toby, there’s no need. Now please keep an eye on my sister until our return.”
“But my lord, I became tired of sitting outside her chamber door, with her never emerging,” complained Toby. “I thought, perhaps, if Lady Hazel isn’t going to get out of bed, I might be able to grab a bite at least to eat and enjoy some of the activities.”
“Take an hour and no more. And then back to your post. I want someone here for her if she decides she’s feeling better and wants to join the celebration.”
“When will you return?” asked Toby, fidgeting with the saddle.
“I’ll return when I’m good and ready, now stop asking so many questions.”
“I’d like to know the answer to that, too,” Willow broke in. “After all, tonight is the only time I might have to mingle with the eligible noblemen. If I can’t talk to them and get to know them, how am I going to choose one to marry?”
“You’re not choosing any of them,” Conrad told her, directing the horse from the stable.
“I have the right to agree to whom I marry,” Willow reminded him. “It was the late queen’s wish and the command of King Edward on his deathbed as well.”
“If I must remind you; the man who wins the competition will choose you, and you can either say aye or nay. That is the extent of it.”
