don’t believe it was my conversation you craved when you came to my tent. Show me how much I mean to you. That you want to be my wife.’
He tugged her closer until his mouth covered hers, tongue forcing her lips apart. His hips ground against hers, one leg pushing between her thighs. She felt his hand slip from her hair and begin to travel across her body. His teeth grazed her lips and Joanna winced. She tried not to cry out as Sir Roger’s fingers groped and dug into the soft flesh of her breast. Without warning he pinched her nipple hard.
Waves of unpleasant heat spread through her torso. She was dimly aware of what took place between a man and woman, but feeling these sensations bordering on pain the low cries that issued in the night from her aunt’s bedchamber began to make sense.
Were women supposed to like this show of male affection? Perhaps in time she would learn to, but at that moment Joanna would have given up all prospects of marriage to make it stop. She closed her eyes, reminding herself that this was the price for getting what she craved. A life of excitement with the man who made her heart pound. Not a bleak existence in a damp Welsh village with old Thomas Gruffydd. No longer an unwanted inconvenience in Simon’s household. Sir Roger would be satisfied soon and it would not happen again until after they were married.
The sound of someone whistling floated around the corner, a familiar tune that had been playing while she had talked with Hal. Sir Roger’s hand dropped from Joanna’s breast. He smiled down at her, his eyes still hungry. She returned his smile faintly, glad that she had pleased him.
The whistling stopped. For the second time that day Hal interrupted them but now Joanna found herself glad to see him. He sauntered across to where they stood, his eyes flickering knowingly from Sir Roger to Joanna.
‘I had barely crossed the room to find you and you were gone, Roger. I thought you might be out here.’
Had he followed them deliberately? His face was grim. Joanna looked away shamefaced. Clearly his opinion of her virtue, or lack of, had been confirmed afresh.
‘Joanna, go back inside. I’ll find you later,’ Sir Roger commanded. She nodded obediently and left, turning back briefly at the corner to glance at the two brothers. They mirrored each other, arms folded, legs apart and identical expressions of anger on their faces. Sir Roger’s was easy to understand but why Hal should have seemed so furious was a mystery.
* * *
‘Who is she?’ Hal asked curiously.
Joanna was different from the women Roger usually favoured, preferring them slender with chestnut hair and flashing eyes, not small and shapely with the air of a startled cat when surprised.
Roger gave the satisfied grin that never failed to set Hal’s teeth on edge. ‘You were talking to her while I danced. Did you discover nothing yourself?’
‘Only that she adores you and believes you feel the same,’ Hal snapped. ‘Do you?’
A guilty expression flitted across Roger’s face. ‘I’m fond of her I suppose. She amuses me and she’s so devoted. So biddable. She’s more innocent than I prefer but one can get tired of the same wine. White can provide a pleasant alternative to red occasionally.’
Hal wrinkled his nose. The description of Joanna struck him as apt. For all her indiscreet behaviour at the camp she had been modestly dressed. Her unhappiness when her virtue had been called into question had been real enough and her discomfort just now as she had submitted to Roger’s clumsy caresses was genuine.
‘You were doing your best to relieve her of any innocence she still possessed,’ he said darkly. ‘Is that fair? Or wise?’
Roger leered. ‘If she’s willing to play I’m not going to object.’
‘Do you intend to marry her?’ Hal asked.
‘I did consider it for a while,’ Roger said candidly. ‘Though sadly I’ve discovered this vintage turns out not to be as rich as I first hoped it might be.’
‘Stop jesting.’ Hal glowered. ‘Mistress Sollers is not the first woman you have deceived. If you do not intend to marry her make it clear and take no more liberties or I will inform Father of your behaviour. I don’t have to tell you what that might do in his current state of health.’
He strode away and was swallowed up by the city.
‘Are you coming to the tournament today?’
They were the first words Roger had spoken to Hal since the previous night. Both had returned to the camp separately and Roger had stamped around the tent, reminding Hal of when they were both children.
‘I wasn’t intending to,’ Hal answered, earning a petulant scowl from Roger who took the cup of warm milk Hal offered.
‘I’m allowing you to share my tent so the least you could do is help me prepare. You know my armour better than my squire,’ Roger grumbled. ‘You’d have made a better squire too if you hadn’t been so proud.’
Hal ignored the jibe. ‘You know I have matters of my own to attend to.’
‘Your work is all you think of. I’m on the lists before midday,’ Roger wheedled. ‘You’ll have plenty of time.’
Hal took a cloth-wrapped package from the chest at the end of his bed, laid it carefully on the table and unfolded it to reveal the sword he had crafted. The edge gleamed in the light as he drew it from the scabbard and weighed it in his hand.
Roger whistled in genuine appreciation. ‘I don’t know why you want to enter the guild. You’re a good blacksmith already.’
Hal laid it carefully back on the cloth and ran his fingers over the wide, flat blade.
‘Would you be content to stay aiming at wooden targets?’
Roger snorted. ‘Of course not!’
‘I don’t want to spend my life shoeing horses and hammering plough blades. There are other skills and other metals.’
‘Do you have plans for the weapon after you’ve presented it?’ Roger asked hopefully. ‘Something so fine deserves to be wielded by a knight.’ He couldn’t hide the note of longing in his voice and Hal’s throat tightened in annoyance.
‘I’m keeping it. Whatever you think, you are not entitled to lay claim to everything I possess,’ he said archly.
Roger snapped his fingers to summon his page. Hal drank his milk, feeling his stomach beginning to settle. He had not intended to drink so much the previous night, but after leaving the feast he had stalked around the city until he found a tavern where he could mull over what he had witnessed between Roger and Joanna. No doubt she would be at the joust. Anyone could see the foolish girl was blinded by the thrill of the tournament and her dreams of winning his brother’s heart.
‘When you spoke to Joanna last night did you mention your task today?’ Roger asked.
Hal started as the name he was thinking was spoken aloud. ‘Why would I tell her about that?’
