“It was your first kiss, unless you count the time when Sir Gerard woke you from your sleeping-potion sleep.”
“That was not a kiss. He was only going to blow air into my mouth, something he saw a physician do to revive a man who had stopped breathing.”
“I suppose that was not a kiss, but what you did today certainly was.”
“It was very brief, and it will never happen again, so there is no use talking of it.” She immediately realized that she hoped that wasn’t true. But she wasn’t ready to confess that to Ysa.
“You deny us both what little pleasure can be had on this trip.”
“Ysa.” Elyce tried to sound scolding, but they both laughed again.
“We should go to sleep,” Ysa said. “It has been a long, tiresome day.”
But Elyce still wanted to know what Ysa thought. She must be too loyal and afraid of hurting her feelings to tell Elyce the truth. Surely there was no man alive who could love her when she was angry and in a passion, so she must continue to try to control herself. She did not want to let her emotions completely run wild, but was it possible that some men might find it appealing to have a wife who was honest about what she felt? Men who wouldn’t want a wife who was cold and stiff?
Was Sir Gerard such a man? Her feelings for him were strong, but her people needed her. She would not abandon her people to have a life with Sir Gerard.
Sir Gerard had not behaved like a man in love when Rodrigo and his men were out of sight. He had enjoyed the kiss, perhaps, but he had not suddenly dropped to his knees and declared his undying love for her. The very idea was foolish.
If she could manage her emotions, her fits and impulsiveness, perhaps Sir Gerard would love her. She could learn to be more self-controlled, surely.
Ysa thought it was ridiculous for a princess to marry a knight. Was that true? She did not know. She only knew how good it felt to think of him, how gentle and yet brave he was, how lovely his kiss felt, and how much she longed to be back in his arms.
* * *
Gerard had seen Sir Oswalt eyeing him, so he wasn’t surprised that Sir Oswalt followed him when he went to water the horses.
They stood at the little stream, the only source of water they’d found for hours, while the horses drank. Oswalt cleared his throat and spoke. “Is there something you haven’t been telling me?”
“What? No.”
“Are you expecting me to believe that nothing has happened before yesterday when she kissed you on the mouth and told Count Rodrigo that she was marrying you?”
“She did that to fool him and to make him think she wouldn’t be going back home.”
“You might be telling yourself that, but that kiss was not fake.”
“Don’t be daft. She’s a princess.” But his stomach was churning at his friend’s words. Was Princess Elyce’s kiss real and true? A princess might kiss a knight, but she wouldn’t marry him. Not that he had asked her to.
“She’s a princess who convinced that count that she was planning to marry you.”
“Maybe she convinced him, maybe she didn’t, but that’s why she did it. There’s nothing between us.”
Nothing spoken, anyway.
Gerard didn’t trust himself to look Oswalt in the eye, for his friend had an uncanny ability to read Gerard’s thoughts. And he still had not quite sorted out his feelings, though he had lain awake for quite a while the night before.
He had kissed a few maidens when he was young, when he spent one summer in Cornwall in the service of an older knight who encouraged him to do that, and more, with the young women from the village. But he had not felt right about it, especially when one young woman found him kissing another maiden after he’d kissed her. She called him a word he’d never heard a maiden use before and then stalked off. He deeply regretted his insensitive behavior.
He’d been told by his father and later by some of the noblemen he’d served that a noble knight should never engage a woman’s heart without equal feelings on his own side. So he’d stayed away from kissing maidens after that. Someday he’d find a wife, but he had not been ready for marriage.
A man needed a home and such things to offer a woman. He did have some coin saved, but he had not yet distinguished himself enough to be considered for a greater title than knighthood, or to receive possible grants of land or a house. And he’d likely never be wealthy enough for a princess.
“I’m glad you’re not considering marriage to her. She is pretty to look at, but her temperament . . .” Sir Oswalt frowned and raised his brows. “Too changeable and given to fits of passion.”
“Her temperament is not bad. At least she isn’t cold and insincere, feigning one thing when she’s thinking and feeling another.”
He wouldn’t tell Oswalt, but there were times when he wondered if she would take him for granted. When this was all over, would she be appreciative of all that he had given up to come here to help her? Perhaps he was just another servant to her and she would never think about him again.
That’s what he’d been pondering before she fell through the ice. But then she’d thanked him so genuinely. His heart swelled to hear her words: “Thank you for helping me . . . again. It seems you are always coming to my rescue.” She hadn’t taken his help for granted then.
He’d wanted to kiss her again, and he probably would have, if Sir Oswalt had not been standing behind them.
Sir Oswalt narrowed his eyes at him. “You are not falling prey to her charms, are you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. ‘Falling prey.’” Gerard snorted. He would hardly fall prey to any woman. But . . .
He’d never met a woman before who made him contemplate marrying her. Though Sir Oswalt did seem to find quite a bit of fault with Princess Elyce, Gerard had always thought his friend not as discriminating as he was. And now that he considered it, Gerard could imagine Sir Oswalt preferring an insipid girl, one who never opened her mouth, always did as she was told, and never felt strongly about anything. Such a girl would not appeal to Gerard.
“Just be careful she doesn’t draw you in. We’re in enough trouble as it is, if she cannot get King Wenceslaus to help her. We could easily end up dead, siding with this runaway princess.”
“Are you afraid of death? I never knew you to lose your courage.”
Sir Oswalt growled. “You know I’m not.” He was quiet as they walked the horses back to where they had spent the night. Then he suddenly spoke again. “I am more concerned for you becoming her pawn, like in a game of chess or nine men’s morris. And if you were to marry her, having to listen to her yell and scream every time things don’t go her way.”
“Have you seen her scream every time things didn’t go her way?”
“No, but women change after they get married. That’s when their natural faults really come forth. Ask any married man.”
Gerard had to admit—at least to himself—he had heard more than one man say that.
“Well, I’m not marrying her, so it hardly matters.” And he and Sir Oswalt would be back in England in two or three months, if they were fortunate. He’d have to forget Princess Elyce and her kiss.
Certainly, if Princess Elyce were an English maiden, the daughter of a wealthy merchant or a baron or a knight, and if she did seem kind and good, as interested in him as he was in her, he would try to inspire her love for him, then perhaps ask to marry her. But she was a foreign princess, and so it hardly mattered what he thought of her or the kiss that probably should have surprised him more than it had.