They were on the beach, a good mile from Wolffeton. She did not want to take the chance that Graelam would come by chance upon her. In this, she would surprise him. He would be pleased with her prowess. He must be pleased. It was the only thing that kept her practicing so diligently.
But he had missed her. She immediately saw the distrust and anger in his eyes.
“You plan more trees for the orchard?” he asked her, watching her dismount from Bluebell’s back.
Her chin rose. “Nay, my lord,” she said brightly. “I plan a surprise for you!”
His eyes narrowed. “Explain yourself.”
She shook her head, forcing teasing laughter from her throat. “Nay, my lord. You must wait!”
“I promised to forgive you the past, not the present,” he said.
She could only stare at him. “But I have done nothing to displease you.”
“Have you not?” he asked, then turned on his heel and left her.
If she had had a rock in her hand, she would have hurled it at his back. “I will show you,” she hissed between her teeth.
Three days later, on a bright, cold afternoon, Kassia calmly planned to surprise him. She felt excited, hopeful, and proud of herself.
30
“Rolfe! You promised!”
Rolfe scratched his head, wishing suddenly he was anywhere but here at Wolffeton. “I don’t think it is a good idea,” he said lamely, no match for the pleading in her eyes.
“But Graelam will be surprised and . . . pleased. You know he must be, Rolfe.” I will be just like Lady Chandra and he will admire me, she added silently to herself. If naught else, that must be true. “You said yourself that I have improved beyond all your expectations. You have already arranged the competition.”
“Aye, I have,” he said helplessly. “I will probably be hanged for a fool.”
“Mayhap,” she said, ignoring his words, “the minstrels will hear about me and write their chansons to praise my prowess.”
“I don’t know what will come of this,” Rolfe grumbled.
What will come of this is that Graelam will admire me. Perhaps he will even come to truly care for me, a small, wistful voice said.
“I must change my clothes.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Do not forget what you will say to my lord!”
Rolfe watched her run up the stairs into the great hall. He scuffed the toe of his leather boot against a cobblestone and cursed softly.
“So, Rolfe,” Graelam said with some amusement to his master-at-arms as they walked side by side toward the practice field, “do you also expect me to give a prize to the winner?”
“The men have practiced hard,” Rolfe said in a neutral voice. “Some sort of recognition from you would not be amiss.”
“Then I shall think of something.” Graelam shaded his eyes and gazed over the course. “You are lucky it hasn’t rained in a week,” he said. “The targets are arranged wide apart,” he continued, scanning the course. “I think most of the men will complete it with a perfect score. Why is it so easy?”
So your lady won’t break her neck! “The men competing have little practice in shooting their arrows from horseback,” he said smoothly. “I wanted to be as fair as possible to them.”
Graelam cocked a thick black brow at him. “I believe you grow soft in your old age,” he remarked. He saw his men lined up on the far side of the course, drawing lots to determine the order. He moved into position beside Rolfe, waiting for the competition to begin.
Rolfe saw him g
lance back toward the keep and wondered if his master was looking for his wife.
“Kassia takes great pleasure in surprising the men,” Graelam said, as if in answer to Rolfe’s thoughts. “I wonder if she will bring the winner a tray of pastries.”
Rolfe grunted, his eyes on Kassia, dressed in boy’s clothes, sitting proudly astride a bay stallion. She was wearing a short mantle that fastened with a broach over her right shoulder, its hood drawn up and clipped securely over her chestnut curls. It had not occurred to either of them until the day before that Graelam would immediately recognize Bluebell if she rode her mare in the competition. Thus the bay stallion, Ganfred. Rolfe watched the stallion prance sideways, and closed his eyes in a silent prayer. The horse was not as placid and obedient as Bluebell, and Kassia had ridden him but once. She had not seemed at all concerned, but Rolfe was not deceived.