The Knight by Monica Mccarty Page B

her. It didn’t help that she’d been up most of the night doing the same thing.
    “I’m tired,” Agnes moaned, burying her head in the soft feather pillow. “What time is it?”
    Joanna eyed the thin stream of strong daylight coming through the single shuttered window above them. They’d slept late by the looks of it. “Time to get dressed and wash your faces before prayers.” Another cheer sounded from below. “I will find out what is happening in the Hall.”
    “Do you think it has something to do with Sir James?” Constance asked, her eyes wide and sparkling with excitement.
    Joanna stilled, even the sound of his name causing a stab of pain.
    The starry-eyed look of admiration bordering on adulation on her sister’s face was one that Joanna suspected she’d worn more often than not. To her thirteen-year-old sister, James was the greatest, most handsome, most noble knight the world had ever seen. He could do no wrong. The pang in her chest twinged harder. She wanted to think so, too. She wanted that expression back on her own face.
    “Mother and father could talk of little else at the evening meal last night with the rumors of his return,” Constance prattled on excitedly.
    Which was one of the reasons Joanna had pleaded a headache and retired early. Her mother would guess something was wrong, and Joanna didn’t know if she had the strength not to confide in her. Her parents loved James like a son and revered him as a demigod. This would break their hearts as much as it had hers.
    How could she have been so wrong about his intentions? She’d assumed that “love” and “forever” meant marriage. She’d assumed that because she could think of no other future than marriage that James would think that way, too. But it was clear they didn’t think the same at all.
    His leman? Dear God, she felt like a fool. A naive, blinded-by-love fool. A naive, blinded-by-love pregnant fool.
    Joanna splashed cold water on her tired eyes, cleaned her teeth with a cloth and a paste of wine, salt, and mint, and dragged a beautiful horn comb encrusted with pearls through her hair. James had given it to her a few years ago when he’d become a knight.
    Would the baby make a difference to him? She didn’t know, but she owed it to their child to give James a chance to do right by them both.
    He’d been in a rush yesterday, and she’d caught him off guard. He’d caught her off guard as well. She shouldn’t have given him an ultimatum like that. She should have handled it with more finesse. For as long as she’d known him, James hated being backed into a corner, and she’d effectively drawn a line on the ground and dared him not to cross over. His pride would make him, even if he didn’t want to.
    She bit her lip, winding a ribbon quickly through her long plait. When they spoke later today, she vowed not to threaten but to explain. Maybe she could make him understand? Maybe when his mind was clear and he had a chance to think about it, he would see that he could achieve his goals and still marry her. That she did not need to be the price of his ambition.
    At just four and twenty, James was already one of King Robert’s most valued and important lieutenants. He was one of the handful of men the king relied upon. James had been given the important task of gaining control in the chaotic Borders. She knew that the king’s nephew, Sir Thomas Randolph, was making a name for himself as well—and that there was a silly rivalry between the two—but James’s ability to rally men to his banner gave him the edge.
    As much as his reaction had hurt her yesterday, part of her still didn’t want to believe he would hurt her—them—like this. If he loved her—and she truly believed he did—he would honor that love with his name. She and their child deserved nothing less.
    Though Thommy’s voice sounded strongly in her head that she was just making excuses for him again, she wasn’t ready to give up on him yet. The shine on