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“But how am I going to know if I should agree to a marriage or not? I demand you turn this horse around and take me back to the bonfire. I want to talk to more of the noblemen who will be competing for my hand.”
“There’s no need for that,” said Conrad, heading over the drawbridge. They rode past the noisy crowd that laughed and conversed while the musicians strolled through the area playing music and some of them singing to whoever would listen. The jester entertained a group of children by doing tricks with a deck of cards. There were pitched tents boasting the coat of arms of many knights filling the entire area. This was where the travelers stayed who weren’t lucky enough to occupy a room in the castle. The bonfire glowed brightly from the center of the ring of tents. Willow wanted more than anything to stay and enjoy herself. However, Conrad took it upon himself to decide they should go for a ride instead. Of all times, why now?
“Sir Conrad, I don’t want to go riding in the dark. I want to stay at the festival. Now, please turn around and take me back to the castle. I need to talk to the competitors to decide which one I will marry.”
“I told you before, and I’ll tell you again. There is no need to worry your pretty little head about that.”
“Why not?” she asked, feeling as if she already knew the answer. “Is it because you believe I’m perceived as a strumpet and not one of the men will want me for his bride?”
“That’s not true. I don’t think you’re a strumpet. And don’t worry yourself with what the others will think of you since you won’t be marrying any of them.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“On the contrary, it is you who doesn’t understand.”
“Then why don’t you tell me what you mean?” Willow tired of this conversation.
“Let me remind you, I’m competing as well.”
“I know that. But what does it have to do with any of this?”
“I am going to win at least one of the competitions. And you, Lady Willow, will be my wife.”
“Your wife? Hah!” Willow spat out the words thinking the man had gone mad. “Why would you even think I’d consider marrying you, Conrad the Cur?”
“Don’t call me that.” His arm stiffened around her waist, and he rode faster, heading through the forest.
“Why are you doing this?” His actions, as well as his words, aggravated her more than she let on.
“It is a beautiful night, and I know how much you like sneaking out in the dark.”
“Not that. I mean why are you competing for my hand in marriage?”
“I need a wife.”
“There is always Lady Anabel or Lady Grace. Perhaps you can choose one of them instead.” She tried to get him to change his mind.
“They are too young.”
“They’re basically the same age as me,” she pointed out.
“You seem much older.” He directed the horse toward the secret garden. Even in the dark, Willow knew this route since she’d taken it with her cousins to see Imanie many times in the past.
“So you’re saying you think I’m too old for anyone to want to marry me?”
“Nay. I’m not saying that at all. I just meant . . . you are more mature.”
“Mature in what way? You’re not referring to me being a strumpet again are you?”
“Willow, what I mean is –”
“Because if you are, I’ll –”
“I am starting to have strong feelings for you,” he said, keeping her from finishing her sentence.
His words surprised her so much that she didn’t know how to respond. First, he said he wanted to marry her, and now he was admitting to having feelings for her. What could this mean? And did she feel the same way? She didn’t think so. But the more she thought about the kisses they’d shared, the more she wondered what it would be like to be his wife. Part of her wanted to get to know Conrad after all.
“You’re taking me to Imanie’s secret garden, aren’t you?” she asked, rather than having to respond to what he’d just told her.
