Chevalier by Sarah Woodbury

Author:Sarah Woodbury
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Wales, welsh, king arthur, medieval mystery, historical mystery, king of england, conquest, norman, medieval wales, middle ages
Publisher: The Morgan-Stanwood Publishing Group
Published: 2020-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Day Two

Catrin

Though she knew she’d shocked him, Rhys gave her a smile. Then, with a slight bow to someone behind her, whom she assumed was Margaret, he strode from the pavilion. The mass for poor Rollo couldn’t wait. What’s more, neither could Humphrey de Bohun.

She could have pretended she wasn’t entirely sure what had come over her to make her kiss Rhys in public or that she wasn’t aware such a display of affection between two unmarried people was forbidden, even in such raucous conditions as a tournament pavilion.

But she knew.

She was tired of the back and forth. She was tired of uncertainty. And more than anything, she was tired of always watching herself and never allowing who she was inside to show.

Most people lived that way all the time, as she did and would again as soon as her heart stopped pounding at her audacity. For one moment, she had deliberately given in to impulse. Maybe she would pay for that. She hoped not, but even if she did, she couldn’t regret the look in Rhys’s eyes.

She’d seen surprise there. And a little consternation. But mostly joy. If that was all she could have from him because the queen was about to tell her she mustn’t associate with him again, she could survive on that look for a long time—while she figured out how to change the queen’s mind.

Margaret’s expression was pinched, to say the least, and Catrin gave her a gracious smile as she made her way towards the high table and its associated smaller tables at which Eleanor and her ladies were sitting. But at her arrival, the queen merely nodded calmly at her in greeting, most of her attention on the bard and the music. And Margaret barely twitched in her direction, giving no indication of her disdain for Catrin’s unseemly behavior.

Catrin sat beside Margaret in the chair the servant pulled out for her, suddenly confused. It was unlike Rhys to be so mistaken, but maybe for once he was. Catrin’s kiss had been a quick gesture of affection.

Instead of chastising Catrin, Margaret was glaring down the pavilion towards several young women giggling together in an open space between tables, directly behind where Catrin and Rhys had been sitting.

Catrin cleared her throat to get Margaret’s attention. “Were you wanting me?”

“What?” Margaret glanced at her. “No. Why?”

“I thought—” Catrin broke off, almost laughing now at how she and Rhys had constructed a reality based on guesses and their own fears. They’d assumed her kiss was momentous to everyone else because it had been so to them. “What’s the matter?”

“Those girls.” Margaret pointed at them with her nose and continued the daggers look Catrin had thought she’d been directing her way. “Do you know them?”

“No,” Catrin said. “Should I?”

“I think I should.”

Catrin knew well that she wasn’t as young as she used to be. Queen Eleanor had a mirror that told her that every day, even if she hadn’t been fully aware of the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes—and the stretch marks on her belly and thighs.

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