Instead, he rubbed a hand down his newly shaven face and across his chin. He should have known he would be having such thoughts. He should have made sure Sir Oswalt and Ysabeau were with them.
Truly, the Holy Writ was right that the flesh was weak. But he did not want to hurt her—or break his own heart—and he could easily let his heart become entangled with this fairest of the fair, beautifully compassionate Princess of Montciel.
God, help me be strong.
* * *
Elyce felt her heart start to pound. How humble and thoughtful Sir Gerard was to make her feel better about her faults by revealing his own.
She noticed the expression on his face, reminding her of how he had looked right after their kiss. Was he thinking about that too? Would he kiss her now?
She lost her breath at the thought. But then they were talking again, admiring the garden’s plan, the symmetry, as they speculated on what would be blooming come spring.
“You know quite a bit about plants,” she told him.
“I had to learn, as the duke I was serving asked me to help him plan his formal garden.”
“Another talent! So many talents for one man.” She smiled teasingly.
“I don’t know if you can call that a talent. We discussed plants; I studied books on botany written by monks . . . Believe me, it was not very exciting.”
“But it is knowledge you have that most people don’t.”
“That is true, I suppose.”
His cloak had made her feel warmer, but was he cold now? But she also did not want to go inside until he kissed her.
God, forgive me for being so shameless.
Now she was wondering how she could let him know, subtly of course, that she would let him kiss her if he wanted to. Pretending to trip and fall into him, then leaning toward him seemed too manipulative; she didn’t like the deception of it. Being direct was more appealing to her. She’d even thought about stepping up close to him and saying, “You may kiss me if you like.”
No. If he wanted to kiss her, he would.
“I believe you said this is the first time you’ve traveled outside of England. What do you think?”
“The mountains are very beautiful, although not so easy to travel through. The cold is something I’ve rarely encountered before. I’m enjoying the diversity of this land.”
They kept walking and commenting on the garden and the types of trees that were native to this part of the Continent that Gerard had not seen in England. Finally, they had walked completely around the garden twice and were getting close to the door, and still he made no move to kiss her or even hold her hand. His nose was turning red from the cold, and hers undoubtedly looked the same.
“We should go inside.”
“Are you cold?” he asked as he reached to open the door for her.
“Your cloak helped a lot. Thank you. But yes, my face is so cold I’m starting to slur my words. Didn’t you notice?”
“A little.” He smiled. He did not offer his arm to her and she did not place her hand on it.
They walked down the corridor without talking, as they met a few servants hurrying to their duties. Had she done something wrong? But he did not seem put out, only a little preoccupied.
When they reached her door, he said, “Thank you, Princess Elyce, for walking with me around the garden.”
“It was my pleasure.” She stared intently into his face, remembering how he had reacted to her kissing him before.
He simply gave her his small smile, the one where his lips turned up slightly at the corners but did not show any teeth, his eyes soft and gentle.
“I shall see you in a few hours in the Great Hall.” He stood two feet away from her and made no move to lean in.
“Yes. I will be there. In the Great Hall.”
He gave her a single nod, then turned and walked away.
Elyce went into her chamber and closed the door behind her. She looked around the opulent room, but Ysa was not there. She was probably resting in her own little alcove room.
Suddenly Elyce felt tired in her bones, so tired she went toward her bed, realizing she still had on Sir Gerard’s cloak. She took it off as a dull ache formed in her chest and she draped it across a plush, cushioned bench. She took off her own cloak, then pulled and pushed her dress over her head, which was not easy, as heavy as it was. Throwing herself onto the bed, she lay still, squeezing her eyes shut. Sir Gerard’s face loomed in her mind’s eye.
Why had he not kissed her? He could have kissed her at any time in the garden. They were alone. A few times they had been standing quite close.
He didn’t want her. It was the only conclusion she could think of, the only thing that made sense.
What a fool she had made of herself! He must have seen the way she smiled flirtatiously at him and leaned toward him a few times.
But he had been the one to ask her to go for a walk, as if he wanted to be alone with her.
No, he hadn’t wanted to be alone with her. He’d asked Ysa to go with them.
Elyce buried her face in the pillow, her heart aching. He didn’t want her, but she loved him.
“Foolish, imprudent, impulsive girl,” she whispered harshly into the silk pillowcase.
She’d fallen in love with Sir Gerard, but he obviously did not love her back. And why should he? She was ruled by her feelings. She ran away from her father, and now she was running around from one kingdom to the next, all over the Holy Roman Empire, trying to get support to free her people. No other woman, no other princess, would do such things.
She should control herself.
She sat up and rubbed the tears from her face. She had to focus her thoughts on what was next, what they had to do to help her people. Dwelling on Sir Gerard and her unrequited feelings for him would only make her sad and wouldn’t do her or anyone else any good.
She lay back down, covering herself with the bedclothes, and closed her eyes. At least if she was asleep she couldn’t be thinking about Sir Gerard and how she had expected him to kiss her . . . and he hadn’t.
Seventeen
Gerard ran a hand over his eyes.
He and Sir Oswalt had arrived back to their chambers after spending all afternoon making arrangements for horses, equipment, and provisions with the captain of the king’s guard for their long journey. At least the activity had kept his mind occupied, mostly, and off of Princess Elyce.
But tonight he would be dining in the Great Hall with her and the king.
She’d looked so beautiful, so self-assured and smiling, when they were on their walk. And when he’d parted from her in the corridor in front of her door, he’d had to clench his jaw and force himself not to say something more, not to put his arms around her and kiss her. When he turned and walked away, his hands had been shaking with the effort to not let her know what he was feeling, by either word or action.
He had told her that he was overly opinionated, but he was also overly helpful. Or as some of his friends had told him, he cared too much. Did he care too much now about Princess Elyce?
He wanted to take care of her, to help her take care of her people, to protect her . . .
He had to get through this night without letting everyone know, including the princess and King Wenceslaus, his true feelings. And then he should be able, mostly, to avoid being alone with her on the road. After all, there would be many other men around.