danced with the dark-haired woman. Surely he would finish soon and seek her out. He could not have forgotten she would be there.
Hal’s eyes followed hers. ‘Do you fear his disapproval so much that you will not dance with me?’
‘Of course not!’ Joanna said. ‘I just don’t want to dance yet.’
He snorted. ‘I don’t believe you. You were jigging up and down like a fiddle player on a carthorse.’
The image was so comical that despite herself Joanna smiled.
‘I have my reputation to think of.’
Henry raised his goblet to her once more, a gleam in his eye. ‘You would risk your reputation to visit my brother alone but will not chance a dance in public?’ His eyes blazed. ‘A dance means nothing. If anything it will protect your reputation: to refuse other offers and dance with him alone would invite talk, wouldn’t it? Even my brother could not censure you for that.’ He held his arm out again but when Joanna shook her head he did not press the point.
The music came to an end. Joanna attempted to catch Sir Roger’s eye, but to her dismay Sir Bartholomew presented another young lady who curtsied demurely and they returned to the dance immediately. Joanna’s mouth twisted downwards and she gave a small sigh of disappointment.
Henry was watching her closely, an odd mix of pity and scorn on his face. Joanna dropped her head, the expression in his eyes searing her heart.
‘What did you expect to happen?’ he asked archly. ‘This evening is to honour the knights. You aren’t the only woman to have her heart turned by the glamour of the pageant, or intending to catch a husband.’
‘My head hasn’t been turned by glamour!’ Joanna snapped. ‘That isn’t why I love him.’
Henry smirked disbelievingly. ‘Do you mean you would marry my brother if he was penniless and not a knight?’
Joanna gazed at Sir Roger, trying to imagine him as anything other than himself but could not picture him without his armour or velvet robes.
As she watched Roger laughed enthusiastically at something his partner whispered. He led her off the floor in the opposite direction with the vitality he displayed at the tilt. Joanna’s eyes began to burn. No other man of her acquaintance, few as they were, made her heart turn over with a single glance.
‘I would love him whatever he was,’ she insisted.
‘You hesitated though,’ Henry said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Now, are you content to wait all night for Roger to notice you or will you dance with me?’
Joanna tossed her head. ‘I’d rather stand here alone than dance with you. You’ve mocked me and been nothing but rude to me since you joined me. I know why too. I think you’re jealous because you are not a knight yourself.’
She made to turn away but caught the expression on Henry’s face and paused. His eyes were blazing and his jaw thrust forward angrily. When he spoke next his voice was clipped.
‘As it happens you’re wrong. I made my peace with my fate long ago.’
He began to walk away. Shame flooded Joanna. He was a bastard. Of course he could never hope to be a knight.
‘Master Danby,’ she called. ‘Wait!’
He paused. Suspicion flickered across his face though it softened as he returned to her, never letting his eyes slip from hers. Her heart beat oddly in her throat.
‘Call me Hal,’ he said shortly.
‘I didn’t mean to offend you,’ Joanna said, twisting her hands in embarrassment. ‘It must be hard knowing you cannot be what your brother is.’
‘I have no desire to be what he is,’ Hal replied so curtly Joanna stepped back in alarm. His eyes hardened as he waved his hand across the room, shadows flickering across his face as he obliterated the candlelight. ‘What sensible man would want this gaudy pageantry?’
Now it was Joanna’s turn to feel sceptical. ‘How could anyone not wish to be a part of such excitement?’
‘Quite easily. When it’s over what is left of the opulence beyond empty lists? I prefer things that last.’
Joanna considered his words. When the fairs and tournaments were gone York felt empty and she spent her time dreaming of their return.
‘Why are you here if you hold it in such contempt?’ she asked.
Hal’s jaw tightened. ‘I would much rather not be. I have my own reasons for being in York, which will be poorly served by standing with you. If you are determined to wait until my brother notices you I shall leave you to your solitude. Good evening.’
He bowed briefly and strode past her, skirting around the edge of the room towards the entrance hall. Impulsively Joanna turned after Hal to follow after him but at that point the music ceased. She glanced to the dancers and saw Sir Roger dancing with yet another woman. As he bowed to his partner he turned and saw Joanna. She beamed at him, her heart beginning to race.
Sir Roger sauntered to where she stood. He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘I had given up hope of you coming,’ he said.
Joanna’s stomach fluttered with satisfaction. Of course he had not seen her or he would have come sooner. He held out an arm and she slipped hers into it. She moved towards the centre of the room but Sir Roger tightened his grip and tugged her in the opposite direction.
‘I’ve been dancing long enough,’ he muttered.
Sighing with regret, Joanna allowed him to lead her outside. She shivered, wishing she had brought her cloak. ‘It’s cold,’ she protested.
Sir Roger pulled her around the side of the building and backed her against the wall. ‘I can warm you up.’ He grinned and kissed her. For a while all thoughts were obliterated, but as Sir Roger’s hand once more began to stray towards her breasts a knot of anxiety formed in her stomach.
‘We should go back inside. This isn’t seemly.’
Sir Roger rolled his eyes. ‘We are hardly alone.’ True enough there were others who had taken the opportunities afforded to them by the shadowy corners and archways of the Common Hall. ‘I have been away for months. You would not deny us this chance to get reacquainted?’
‘No...only...when will you speak to my uncle?’ Joanna asked shyly. ‘He spoke of other husbands, of men he knows would want me.’
Sir Roger’s jaw tightened. ‘And you would prefer one of these other men, is that what you are trying to tell me?’
Joanna reached hastily for his hands. ‘No, I love only you, I swear!’
Sir Roger’s mouth turned down petulantly. ‘Good. I hate the thought of you belonging to someone else. You say you love me but how can I believe you when your kisses are so cold and chaste? You may as well be my aunt or sister! Give me some token of your affection so I can believe you,’ he breathed.
Joanna smiled and began to unwind the scarf from her neck but Sir Roger caught her wrist. ‘Not that sort of token,’ he said.
