On the field, the tournament director approached Baron with a rose and handed it to him. They exchanged a few words, but I couldn’t hear them over excited spectators.
Then Baron looked up. His gaze moved over the crowd and stopped near me, then began walking in my direction.
I caught my breath. He couldn’t possibly be thinking of offering it to me. People would suspect. They would talk. The new Sheriff of Nottingham offering a rose to a random servantgirl was already dangerous enough. Offering it to me, even in disguise, was madness.
He came closer. The girls behind me noticed and erupted into squeals.
“Yoo-hoo, Sheriff!”
“Hi there, handsome!”
“Over here!”
My pulse beat hard against my chest. Baron was only ten feet away now, the rose held carefully in one hand.
“And what if I were to ask you to accompany me to the dance tonight?” Leopold asked quickly. He had seen Baron approaching too. “Would you feel more comfortable then?”
“Um…”
Baron stopped directly in front of me.
For one terrible, wonderful second, I forgot how to breathe.
“Would you accept this rose and accompany me to the dance tonight?” he asked solemnly.
“I asked her first!” Leopold snarled.
Baron raised his eyebrows mildly. “I wasn’t asking her.”
He inclined his head toward me. “No offense, milady.” Then his eyes lifted to someone standing behind me.
I turned. There was a girl standing behind me. She was pretty, with a trim figure, long brown hair, and a radiant smile. I hated her immediately.
Her hands flew to her mouth before she reached for the rose. “Yes, I would love to, Sheriff.”
She accepted it eagerly and handed Baron a handkerchief in return. He tucked it into his pocket and bowed. The crowd cheered and the girls around me sighed. The girl with the rose looked as though she might float away from happiness.
I knew Baron couldn’t act like he knew me. I knew he would not want to draw attention to us. I knew all of that and yet itstill sent a sharp pulse of irritation through me to see another woman hanging on Baron’s arm.
Two could play this game.
I turned back to Leopold and slid my hand into the crook of his elbow.
“Yes,” I said, giving him my brightest smile. “I would love to go with you to the dance, my lord.”
BARON
Ihad never been so deeply amused as I was that day.
From across the tournament grounds, I watched Leopold try to impress Laurel for hours. The man worked harder for her attention than most soldiers worked in training and Laurel played him beautifully. She gave him just enough indifference to make him determined to win, then always rewarded him before he became too discouraged or frustrated.
It was clever. Infuriatingly clever.
She never looked at me for long but every now and then, when Leopold turned his head or became too occupied with hearing himself speak, she would glance my way and flash the smallest smile. I craved her attention just as much as Leopold did, but I couldn’t do a single thing about it.
After winning the swordfight, I should have given my own companion more notice, but she didn’t seem to mind my inattentiveness. I couldn’t even remember her name. She had latched herself onto my arm the moment she accepted my rose and seemed content to wave at anyone who looked in our direction. Her cheeks were pink with excitement, and she spoke in a constant stream that required very little from me except theoccasional grunt or nod, which was fortunate, since I was not in the mood to give her more than that.
During the feast, I was only a few seats away from Laurel and Leopold, but it was impossible to eavesdrop on any of their conversation. The hall was too loud. Servants moved in and out with platters and goblets clinked against the tables. Men shouted across benches, and laughter rose from every direction until the entire room seemed to hum with it.