fell with a shriek.
‘Are you all right?’ said Humphrey, dropping down beside her.
‘It’s my ankle,’ said Elaine, wincing. ‘I turned on it as I went down. I hope it’s not broken.’
She lifted her nightgown to rub her ankle, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Humphrey tried not to let his eyes stray towards the revealed skin. Then she said, ‘I think it may just be sprained. Do you mind checking?’
He hesitated.
‘I’m sure you’ve handled plenty of broken bones before,’ said Elaine.
Humphrey laughed nervously. ‘My own, as often as not.’
He took hold of her ankle, telling himself there was nothing strange about this. He had done it for plenty of friends. He and Elaine were friends, weren’t they? Her leg was delicately boned and pale, her skin impossibly smooth. To his annoyance, his hands were trembling a little, and he hoped that she wouldn’t notice. Gently, he turned her bare foot first one way, then the other. It moved easily. He placed her foot back on the grass, taking just a moment too long to let it go.
He worked hard to keep his voice steady. ‘It’s probably a sprain. How does it feel?’
‘A bit better,’ said Elaine. ‘It was probably just the shock of the fall. I’m sure the pain will pass. But do you mind if wewait here until I’m ready to walk on it again? I’m afraid to be alone in the dark.’
Humphrey remembered how she had ridden all the way from Tuft to Camelot alone in the dark. ‘Take your time,’ he said.
‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’
She leaned towards him slightly, so that their arms were almost touching. Somehow it felt more intimate than a touch itself. He felt his mouth go dry.
Maidens used to do this when he was young. Before he was dishonoured. Feign injury, feign catastrophe, feign anything to get close to him. But it didn’t seem like the kind of thing that Elaine would do. She was so preoccupied with finding her fiancé, she’d been mute with misery all day. Of course, she didn’t love Sir Alistair. He knew that. Was it possible …? He felt flustered, as if she were the knight and he were the maiden. He didn’t know what to do next.
‘I think they’re gone,’ he said, sticking to the script they had agreed on.
‘Who?’ said Elaine.
‘The men you heard?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Elaine vaguely. ‘They must have run away when they heard us coming.’
There had been women in his life, of course. Plenty before Cecily and plenty since. Serving maids these days mostly, though there was nothing wrong with that, they were as sensible and good-humoured as any other girl, indeed more so than some ladies he could think of. When he’d sat at the Round Table, the bored wives of other Round Table knights, or the ambitious wives of Errant Companions, sometimes made it clear that his attentions would be welcomed. He’d try to avoid them, disliking their lack of sincerity and not wanting to risk his companionship with his brethren. Of course, once he got demoted to LessValued, he was suddenly invisible to those very same ladies who’d so admired him the day before. So he was no naïf. He could tell what Elaine wanted him to do, and he knew he wanted the same thing. But something about this situation was paralysing him.
‘The stars are beautiful tonight, aren’t they?’ said Elaine. She wasn’t looking at the stars, though, she was looking at him. He was almost sure he could see the invitation in her eyes. He cast his misgivings aside.
‘I couldn’t care less about the stars,’ he said, and he leaned over and kissed her.
Sometimes a kiss can hit you harder than a lance with the force of a galloping horse behind it. This was one of those times. But suddenly Elaine pushed him away.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, almost yelping in distress. ‘I can’t do this.’
And he realised that this was her true voice, and that everything else she had said since waking him up had come from a place of falseness. A hole opened up in his soul
‘Are you all right?’ said Humphrey, dropping down beside her.
‘It’s my ankle,’ said Elaine, wincing. ‘I turned on it as I went down. I hope it’s not broken.’
She lifted her nightgown to rub her ankle, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Humphrey tried not to let his eyes stray towards the revealed skin. Then she said, ‘I think it may just be sprained. Do you mind checking?’
He hesitated.
‘I’m sure you’ve handled plenty of broken bones before,’ said Elaine.
Humphrey laughed nervously. ‘My own, as often as not.’
He took hold of her ankle, telling himself there was nothing strange about this. He had done it for plenty of friends. He and Elaine were friends, weren’t they? Her leg was delicately boned and pale, her skin impossibly smooth. To his annoyance, his hands were trembling a little, and he hoped that she wouldn’t notice. Gently, he turned her bare foot first one way, then the other. It moved easily. He placed her foot back on the grass, taking just a moment too long to let it go.
He worked hard to keep his voice steady. ‘It’s probably a sprain. How does it feel?’
‘A bit better,’ said Elaine. ‘It was probably just the shock of the fall. I’m sure the pain will pass. But do you mind if wewait here until I’m ready to walk on it again? I’m afraid to be alone in the dark.’
Humphrey remembered how she had ridden all the way from Tuft to Camelot alone in the dark. ‘Take your time,’ he said.
‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’
She leaned towards him slightly, so that their arms were almost touching. Somehow it felt more intimate than a touch itself. He felt his mouth go dry.
Maidens used to do this when he was young. Before he was dishonoured. Feign injury, feign catastrophe, feign anything to get close to him. But it didn’t seem like the kind of thing that Elaine would do. She was so preoccupied with finding her fiancé, she’d been mute with misery all day. Of course, she didn’t love Sir Alistair. He knew that. Was it possible …? He felt flustered, as if she were the knight and he were the maiden. He didn’t know what to do next.
‘I think they’re gone,’ he said, sticking to the script they had agreed on.
‘Who?’ said Elaine.
‘The men you heard?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Elaine vaguely. ‘They must have run away when they heard us coming.’
There had been women in his life, of course. Plenty before Cecily and plenty since. Serving maids these days mostly, though there was nothing wrong with that, they were as sensible and good-humoured as any other girl, indeed more so than some ladies he could think of. When he’d sat at the Round Table, the bored wives of other Round Table knights, or the ambitious wives of Errant Companions, sometimes made it clear that his attentions would be welcomed. He’d try to avoid them, disliking their lack of sincerity and not wanting to risk his companionship with his brethren. Of course, once he got demoted to LessValued, he was suddenly invisible to those very same ladies who’d so admired him the day before. So he was no naïf. He could tell what Elaine wanted him to do, and he knew he wanted the same thing. But something about this situation was paralysing him.
‘The stars are beautiful tonight, aren’t they?’ said Elaine. She wasn’t looking at the stars, though, she was looking at him. He was almost sure he could see the invitation in her eyes. He cast his misgivings aside.
‘I couldn’t care less about the stars,’ he said, and he leaned over and kissed her.
Sometimes a kiss can hit you harder than a lance with the force of a galloping horse behind it. This was one of those times. But suddenly Elaine pushed him away.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, almost yelping in distress. ‘I can’t do this.’
And he realised that this was her true voice, and that everything else she had said since waking him up had come from a place of falseness. A hole opened up in his soul
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