Loving on Borrowed Time - Lovers Leap 1 Page 10

  “Wherever did you find those hideous clothes, daughter?” Lord Clayton asked, his beak-like nose wrinkled in disgust.

  “Sir Reginald gave them to me, sir.” She didn’t know how Eleanor usually addressed her father, but ‘sir’ felt right. Lara tried to give Eleanor’s consciousness free reign, but the gentlewoman had been subdued since the night before. Lara wasn’t sure if the fantastic sex had frightened Eleanor or soothed her. She had all but vanished from Lara’s perception.

  Lord Clayton scoffed. “This is the way he provides for my prized daughter? I have a mind to call off this entire tournament and run him through with my own sword. Look at what he did to your sister,” he demanded. “Alyssa is heartbroken.”

  Lara looked at the young woman who she caught staring longingly at Lord Abbot. Alyssa started and diverted her gaze. “She always looks like that, father,” Lara said. “She didn’t want to marry Sir Reginald in the first place. The foolish girl is in love with Lord Abbot.”

  Over in her corner, the girl in question made a small sound of displeasure.

  “You are to wed Lord Abbot, Eleanor. You’ve the character to be a lady worthy of running a castle. You’ve the beauty to attract a powerful husband. Alyssa is meek and uncomely. She was lucky I set up her marriage to Ferguson at birth. She has little hope of making a good match on her own.”

  Geez, what a dick. He didn’t have to say it in front of the young woman like that. Lara’s dislike of Lord Clayton was more than that of her own. Eleanor was in her somewhere intensifying her feelings. Lara just wished Eleanor would come out of hiding now that she was messed up with this weird family situation. Lara had no idea how to handle it.

  “That’s not true, father,” Lara said. “Lord Abbot said himself that Alyssa would make the better wife.”

  She glanced at Alyssa. The frail-looking young woman was staring at Lord Abbot with wide eyes. Lara could see her trying to find her tongue to voice the question she was bursting to ask, but Lord Abbot shifted in his chair to sit up properly and Alyssa’s gaze dropped again.

  Lord Abbot spoke, his words slightly slurred, likely from lanolin. He had to be in a lot of pain. “Your father has convinced me that you are the prize, Eleanor, and after the humiliation I suffered at the hand of Sir Reginald, there is no way I will hand you over to him without a fight.”

  “You are injured, my lord,” Lara tried. “Perhaps we should postpone this fight for a few days so that you can recover.”

  Abbot scoffed. “This wound. This wound is nothing. I’ve fought and won battles with a sword wound that went clean through my side.”

  Lara breathed a frustrated sigh. “If Sir Reginald wins, I am to wed him, isn’t that correct?”

  “He will not win.”

  “But if he does—”

  Lord Clayton cleared his throat. “Daughter, go find something decent to wear. I can’t stand the sight of you in that filthy peasant garb. Alyssa, help your sister.”

  Alyssa sprang to her feet like a marionette. “Yes, Father.”

  She nearly sprinted to Lara’s side, took her by the wrist, and tugged her towards the door. She was strong for someone so small. Lara doubted she was even five feet tall. Lara followed Alyssa out into the corridor and towards a set of stairs.

  “I brought some clothing for you from home, dearest sister,” Alyssa said in her unassuming voice. “You’ll need to dress well for the tournament.”

  “Thank you, Alyssa, that was thoughtful of you.”

  Alyssa hurried up a set of stairs and pushed open the door of a room halfway down a corridor. It turned out to be a bedchamber. Lara was ushered inside, and Alyssa closed the door.

  “You idiot! How could you get caught?” Alyssa bellowed the moment the door was closed. “My plan should have worked perfectly. I never thought Lord Abbot would go after you.” She sighed. “Damn it! Sir Reginald has to win this tournament or I shall never marry properly. Hurry up and change so we can do something about this.”

  Lara stared at Alyssa in disbelief. Eleanor’s meek little sister was a schemer? Had she lived in modern times, she would have been an Oscar-winning actress. Alyssa moved to the wardrobe and pulled out an emerald-green gown.

  “You have to look stunning,” she said. “Lord Abbot was always easily distracted by your beauty. He won’t be able to concentrate by the time I’m through with you.”

  Lara was too stunned to voice a protest as the chore of dressing began. Alyssa worked like an artist creating her Magnus opus. The quantity of fabric in Eleanor’s dress could have supplied an entire army with tents. After Eleanor was dressed, Alyssa went to work on her hair. Lara sat before a mirror at the dressing table, watching all of this happen to the woman in the mirror, who was Eleanor, not her. Eleanor really was a gorgeous woman. And with hair perfectly styled, one long strand curling against her neck and seductively drawing attention to her bosom, Lord Asshat, erm, Abbot, was sure to be distracted.

  “Manners, Eleanor,” Alyssa hissed as they left the room together. “You’d set the world on its ear if only you’d stifle your infinite opinions on things best left to men.”

  “I think you’re already setting the world on its ear. Why do you want to marry Abbot, anyway? He’s a bully.”

  “A bully with a title. And we’ve had this discussion before, sister. You know I can handle him. He treats me like a delicate flower. You stir up his temper at every occasion. No wonder he treats you the way he does.”

  “You make it sound like it’s my fault.”

  “Well, it is, isn’t it? You can’t tempt a man to his very limits and expect him not to act upon it.”

  Lara stifled the urge to slap the little twit until she grew some 21st-century sensibility.

  Alyssa twisted her hands, a happy smile upon her thin lips. “Did Abbot really say I would make a better wife?”

  “Yes, he did. Right before he tried to rape me.”

  Alyssa gasped. “Does Reginald know?”

  “Why do you think Lord Abbot has that horrible bruise on the side of his head?”

  “Reginald doesn’t know about the other times, does he?”

  Alyssa knew Abbot had raped her own sister and she still wanted him? Lara didn’t answer her question because she was too busy gaping at her.

  “You told Reginald, did you not?”

  “Yes, I told him.”

  “Does he still want you, even though you’ve been deflowered by his rival?”

  Memories of making love the night before swarmed her thoughts. “I think so.”

  Alyssa made a sound of impatience. “This won’t work if Reginald doesn’t want you. Damn it, Eleanor, you said you would hide it from him. You promised me you wouldn’t tell him.”

  “It’s kind of hard to hide it when he discovers you naked with your attacker holding you down with his er…” What did people of this era call male components? “His er…male parts fully exposed.”

  Alyssa’s eyes widened. “You saw it?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Alyssa got a thoughtful look on her face. “I wonder how long Christopher will need to get over you before he asks Father for my hand. Do you think a week is long enough?”

  Lara couldn’t disguise her look of disgust. “You are twisted, Alyssa. Do you know that?”

  “I want Christopher Abbot, Eleanor. And no matter what it takes, I shall have him.”

  Lara wouldn’t wish that man on anyone. Not even someone who apparently wanted him and had shit for brains.

  They had arrived outside the gathering room. “I will be certain not to get in your way, sister,” Lara said.

  Alyssa smiled and entered the room. Lara followed her.

  “Where is Lord Abbot?” Alyssa asked their father, eyes seeking every corner of the room.

  “He has a tournament to prepare for, doesn’t he?”

  “Father, if Lord Abbot loses, I would still be willing to accept him as my husband,” Alyssa said, eyes downcast, a fierce blush staining her cheeks. “You could spe
ak to him on my behalf.”

  My God, she has every man in her world completely under her control and they don’t even realize it, Lara thought.

  “Why would he lose?” Lord Clayton said. “And besides, little one, he has no interest in you.”

  “But if he were to ask for my hand,” Alyssa persisted, “you would give your permission.”

  Lord Clayton drew his youngest daughter in his arms. “I would offer twice Eleanor’s dowry, darling, but do not get your hopes up. I hate to see you distraught.”

  A servant entered the room. “The guest tent is ready for patrons to be seated.”

  “Thank you,” Lord Clayton said, releasing his hold on Alyssa. “Shall we go?”

  “Yes, father,” Alyssa said, smiling up at Lord Clayton with a look that would melt any father’s heart.

  “And Eleanor,” he said, stalking across the room and grabbing Eleanor by the elbow. “Do not embarrass yourself or your family this day. Abbot is your champion, not Reginald. You are to behave appropriately.”

  Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “You will not be ordering me around for much longer, Father. When I marry Reginald, I will no longer be your concern.”

  She jerked her arm out of his grasp and stalked out of the room. She caught his words to Alyssa as she entered the hall. “That girl will be the death of me. If only she were meek and well-mannered like you, little one.”

  “I have tried to encourage her to be more submissive,” Alyssa said.

  “I know, daughter. I am glad you are a good girl.”

  Lara rolled her eyes. She could just picture Alyssa smiling up at her daddy with heart-melting worship. Puh-leaze.

  In the yard outside the castle, a fence, spectator stands and a tent had been erected. Lara’s heart skipped a beat when she realized this jousting thing was for real. A clanging sound to her right drew her attention. Lord Asshat, fully bedecked in his polished armor, was heading in her direction. When he stopped beside her, he removed his helmet. His eyes roved over her body as if he were a detective looking for clues. Most of those clues must’ve gotten stuck to her boobs.

  “You look incomparably beautiful,” he said huskily, his gaze settling on the tops of her breasts.

  “Thank you, Christopher.”

  His breath came out in an excited huff. “You’ve never used my given name before.”

  Lara fluttered her eyelashes at him, feeling entirely stupid. Alyssa’s plan just might work, and if she had to pretend to like this guy to distract him and give Reginald an advantage, she would most certainly do her best. She reached up and gently touched the bruise on his face, resisting the urge to jab his bruise repeatedly with her finger. His eyes moved to hers. “You poor dear,” she said, wondering if she sounded simpering or just obnoxious. “What a terrible bruise. Are you sure you can fight?”

  He caught her hand and kissed its palm. “Your concern is touching, milady,” he said. “May I ask the honor of your favor?”

  Ugh! She reached into the cleft between her breasts and slowly pulled out a small handkerchief. Abbot made a sound of longing in the back of his throat. She pressed the handkerchief to her lips before handing it to him. “Please accept this small token of my affection.”

  She wasn’t sure how it was possible for him not to realize she was acting for all she was worth. She’d run off with his rival, for crying out loud. Was he that much a slave to his dick?

  Abbot accepted the handkerchief and drew it to his nose. “We wed tonight, milady,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “Then it will be my right to take what I want from you.”

  She swallowed the acid inching up her throat and attempted a smile. “I cannot refuse my husband.”

  He surprised her by grabbing her and kissing her with an open-mouthed, slobbery kiss. When his tongue sought penetration, she clenched her teeth tightly together. She forced herself to remain still. When he pulled away, he looked down at her in question.

  “Not going to fight me?” he asked.

  It dawned on her that her resistance was what had him so enslaved by desire. She slapped him across his bruised cheek, hoping to ignite him further, yet terrified that it would actually work. “Cad! How dare you take such liberties!”

  “Oh, I dare, milady. I care not how viciously you resist.”

  “I loathe you.”

  He laughed. “Is that any way to speak to your future husband?”

  She bit her tongue. This guy was unreal. When he lowered his head to kiss her again, she twisted away, breaking free of his grasp.

  “Save it for the marriage bed, Abbot,” Lord Clayton said.

  Abbot grinned. “Tonight cannot come soon enough.”

  Lara glanced around, noticing Alyssa talking to Reece near his horse. Standing beside them, Toby’s slender body was practically vibrating with nervous energy. Reece leaned close to Alyssa, nodding occasionally as he listened to her instructions. When her hand grasped his metal sleeve so she could whisper in his ear, Lara was surprised by the spear of jealousy that pierced her heart. It must be Eleanor’s desire to be with Reginald, Lara reasoned. She knew that Alyssa had no interest in Reg and Alyssa didn’t even see Reece when she looked at the dashing knight preparing for the tournament, so Lara’s jealousy made even less sense.

  “The observation tent awaits you, milady,” Lord Abbot said, watching her as she gazed at Reece.

  “Oh, thank you, my lord,” she said, dragging her gaze back to Abbot. “I wish you luck.”

  “I appreciate that, Eleanor, but I won’t be needing luck today.” His evil grin made her heart flop. What was he scheming? Lara couldn’t imagine what terrible brats he would spawn with Alyssa. The two were more perfectly matched than Lara wanted to admit.

  Lord Abbot put on his helmet and stalked off in the direction of his waiting horse. Apparently, he had recovered the beast from the forest where it had been left. Lara couldn’t help but grin, imagining Abbot wandering the countryside pantsless, looking for his horse and armor. She made her way to the tent where a small crowd was gathering. Alyssa caught her arm just before she entered.

  “There are three events. Two out of three wins the tournament,” she whispered. “Reginald has the obvious advantage in the sword fight. They are equally matched in the joust. Abbot has the advantage in archery. It really comes down to who wins the joust. I have an idea to turn the event to Reginald’s favor. Tell father I felt ill so went to lie down.”

  Lara nodded.

  “Did you do your part?” Alyssa asked. “Did you distract Christopher?”

  Lara laughed. “It wasn’t hard. Breathing distracts him.”

  “Make sure you are the front of the tent and cheer for him. He has a hard time concentrating when he’s showing off for you, sister.”

  “Understood.”

  Alyssa reached up and tugged the bodice of Eleanor’s gown down a few inches. “There you go. You’ll be married to Reginald by nightfall.”

  Alyssa turned and headed back to the castle, holding her stomach as if she felt ill. Lara entered the tent and found her father standing near the front of the open structure.

  “There you are,” he said. “Where is your sister?”

  “She’s not feeling well. She went to lie down.”

  Lord Clayton’s features tightened with concern. “I hope she is not too ill. She was never blessed with vigor or good health. The poor child.”

  Oh yes, Alyssa was such a helpless creature. Sheesh! Blind much, Papa Clayton?

  There was a trumpeting which drew all eyes to the arena. A man read from a scroll of parchment. “Lord Christopher Abbot hereby challenges Sir Reginald Ferguson to a duel of valor. The tournament shall be held at Abbot castle grounds on the morrow with the prize of Lady Eleanor Clayton’s hand in matrimonial bliss. The marriage ceremony will commence following the third event. Each knight may select one event for the tournament, with a joust leading the challenge. He who triumphs in two or more events, shall be named the victor. Should Sir Ferguson refuse the terms of t
his challenge, he shall be charged with the kidnapping of Lady Clayton and persecuted to the greatest extent of the law. Lord Abbot, do you hereby claim this challenge?”

  “Aye,” Abbot called, lifting his hand to cheers from the crowd. Lara did her best to pretend she was cheering with them. She waved and wriggled excitedly.

  “Lord Ferguson, do you hereby accept this challenge?”

  “Aye,” Reece called.

  There was a chorus of boos and hisses. Lara’s heart went out to him. He had to be nervous enough without having the added burden of the crowd being against him. She wished she had spoken to him before the match began. Good luck, my love, Eleanor’s thoughts came through loud and clear. Ditto, Lara thought. Well, except for that love part. Like? Sure. Lust? Definitely. But love? Her heart fluttered. Well, maybe.

  Both knights directed their horses to the center of the wooden fence where they faced each other. They then turned and approached the tent, coming to a halt in front of Lara. Her eyes searched the visor of Reece’s helmet, wishing she could see his expression. Was he worried? She was about to toss her crumpets.

  “The first event shall be the joust,” the announcer called. “Take your ready, knights.”

  The horses were directed to either end of the fence. Toby handed Reece a lance and he settled the weapon into position at his hip. Lara noticed the tip wasn’t blunted. One of them could be killed.

  She turned to her father. “We have to call this off,” she said. “These are real weapons.”

  Her father looked down at her, his expression cold. “These are real knights,” he said. “Do you see what trouble your insolence causes?”

  “I’ll marry Lord Abbot!” She clutched his sleeve, but he shook off her hold. “Just call it off.”

  Lord Clayton took her by the arm and turned her to face the joust. “Allow him his dignity.”

  Lara bit her lip. A trumpet sounded. Both horses leapt forward, hooves churning up dust. The knights raced towards each other at breakneck speed. Reece lifted his lance, leaning into the horse, the blue and white banner showing his family’s coat of arms rippling over his steed’s rump. A flash of light hit Abbot’s visor. Concentration broken, he turned his head the instant before the knights collided. There was an unsettling crunch. Reece’s lance broke off at the hilt as it hit Abbot’s chest plate. Abbot’s lance struck Reece in the shoulder and sent him flying. Reece did a backwards somersault off his horse and landed face down in the dirt. Lara attempted to spring over the low wall in front of her, but Lord Clayton grabbed her by the arm. Heart in her throat, she watched Reece, begging him to move. Toby ran to his knight and tried to rouse him.