Free My Noble Knight by Laurel O'Donnell Page B

useless. She had defeated Frances in sword to sword combat. She had been overjoyed. It had been the first time she had defeated him. She rushed to the manor, to her aunt’s manor, to tell her father, knowing he would be so proud of her. That was all he cared about. Jousting, sword fighting. Tournaments. Even later when he got sick, that was what he wanted to hear about.
    But when she told him of her greatest accomplishment, of beating Frances, instead of taking her into his arms and reigning praise on her, he had looked away from her. Her aunt reprimanded her for not finishing her embroidery, for wearing breeches instead of a dress. And her father had banned her from fighting with her brothers.
    She ripped the blade of grass in half. She had been confused then. But not now. Now, it was clear how her father favored her brothers. Just because they were men. Women didn't have a place in the sports he loved. She loved her brothers with all her heart, but she never fit in. Not then, not now.
    Colin knew. He knew how miserable she was. How lost. He had spoken to their father, convinced him to let her come with them. She overheard him telling their father they needed her to cook for them. Cook. She couldn’t cook! But Colin had covered for her. He had made up an excuse so she could join them in the tournament circuit.
    And she had humiliated him by jousting. She had risked everything to joust. The farm they were saving up to buy so their father had a place to live in his final days in. Their reputation.
    She deserved to be sent to the dungeon. No, she deserved to be sent home. That would be even worse than the dungeon.
    Jousting and swordplay had made her feel part of the family; she could participate with her brothers, talk to them about it. It was all that interested her. It was the only thing that her father liked to hear about. She didn’t care about writing and reading. She didn’t care about music. Her Aunt would reprimand her and tell her that she would never amount to anything. No man would ever want her if she couldn't cook, if she couldn't embroider. But she didn't care.
    In the beginning, when they had first arrived at the manor home, she had tried. She had attempted to do all those things that were expected of her. She would proudly display her father’s mended pants, but he wasn't interested. She had tried again and again telling him stories of the lessons of the day, of her knowledge of fashion. But her father didn't care. He would not listen and his eyes would glaze until one of her brothers came into the room. He would listen to Colin’s story for hours. But he never seemed to find the time for her stories.
    She ripped another piece of grass from the ground. And now, here she was with a man who was much like her father, unable to see her for who she was. Really see her. She grabbed a lock of her hair that fell over her shoulder and swished the end of it. He looked at her and thought she should wear her hair in those horrible metal circles. She brushed at her breeches. That she should wear a velvet cotehardie. She looked at the field of honor.
    Griffin rode toward the quintain again, his lance held steady, his focus unrelenting.
    The problem was, if her father didn’t like her for who she really was, how could she hope that the best knight she had even seen would? She tore the blade of grass in half.
    And even worse, since she wasn't allowed to know about jousting and sword play and horses, how could she ever tell Griffin that someone had cut the stirrup leather? He would only scold her again and reprimand her for talking of things that were not fit for a woman.

    Layne made sure to walk behind both Griffin and Carlton on the way back to the pavilion. Carlton looked over his shoulder at her, meeting her gaze. She looked away out over the sunny field.
    When they reached the tent, Carlton led Adonis to the side of the tent.
    Griffin turned to her.
    For one moment, she locked gazes with him. Those spectacular blue