Joust of Hearts Read Online Free

ascended the final six steps to the main deck, she dismissed Maggie and Tilly. “You may have the rest of the day to yourselves. However, I shall require you in my chambers this e’en.” The two maids curtsied and scampered off.
    When Melisande reached the dais, Helena spoke. “Come, sit here with me.” Helena patted the large, ornately carved wooden chair next to her and turned to her husband. “Fitzherbert, you remember Lady Melisande Dupree?”
    Melisande curtsied to him.
    “Indeed, indeed. How it warms my heart to see you, Lady Dupree.” He smiled.
    “You look well, Lord Bergavny,” Melisande replied with a respectful nod.
    “I thank you, my dear. As do you.”
    After she was seated, Helena whispered, “My lord is very pleased that you have come to Willowbrook.”
    Melisande glanced at her host. Lord Bergavny was of good health, at least better than Sir Liam had been in the few years Melisande had known him. Lord Bergavny had gray hair that reached to his chin, and, at present, came from underneath the folded rim of his black fur hat, blending with his matching beard. He had kind blue eyes that peered out through slits from under bushy white brows. His fine robe was a richly embroidered soft green fabric with a wide brown fur lapel that complemented the lighter brown of his hose. A large gold medallion and thick chain were draped around his shoulders. A great ring of gold bearing the Bergavny seal perched regally on his right index finger.
    Melisande’s gaze shifted to the center attraction. So this was the lists she had heard so much about from Liam. She was loath to see any bloodshed, or horses’ eyes rolling with fear, or anything that would bring forth the bad dreams of which she was finally rid. She remembered well the tales of her late husband and his victories on the battlefield. I pray Thee, Lord, deliver me swiftly through this day.
    Helena placed her hand over Melisande’s. “You look pale, my dear.” She then added, “I have not seen you unnerved as you are now, just before you recite. All will love the chronicle you will share— you may be assured of that.” She patted Melisande’s hand gently.
    Melisande made an effort to smile at Lady Helena, for it was in fact not her performance she was concerned with. It was being here at the blood-games, which seemed to cause so many people amusement, and having to witness them first-hand.
    Almost everything that surrounded Melisande reminded her of Sir Liam. He thrived on this kind of living , she thought with a shudder, the sandy lists, the large crowds that emitted strange odors when many un-bathed people and animals came together, the anticipation of the games. Luckily for her, Sir Liam had been too old to travel around the country from tourney to tourney by the time they were married. Sometimes, though, she felt as if she had lived this way because of the many, many stories she’d listened to at her husband’s feet. Occasionally she’d wished she had not the lucid imagination that accompanied her memorization skills.
    Trumpets gained the attention of the audience and everyone quickly found their seat. The herald introduced Lady Melisande Dupree as a bard of yesteryear. Melisande stood up. After the crowd’s shouts and huzzahs subsided, she began the verses of Sir Gawain .

Chapter Three
     
     
     
    Devin’s fellow knights, in the midst of being readied by their squires, departed from the tent in haste. Before he could ask what they were about, he noticed the sudden silence of the crowd assembled for the joust. Curious, he followed. Such cognitive matters claimed his wits more oft than naught. He supposed it to be a flaw in his soul.
    As they approached the lists, a single feminine voice talking of knights and ladies floated toward them on the wind. Two of the men elbowed one another and estimated that the voice must have been attached to a beautiful face in order to gain the vast assemblage’s attention thus.
    Satisfied, the two made their