My Noble Knight Read Online Free

touch a sword. Never… She grabbed Colin’s arm.
    Colin spun on her. “You don’t listen anymore. You’ve endangered all of us! You shouldn’t be here.” He stalked back to the tent.
    Layne watched him go, tears rising in her eyes. He’s right. It was foolish what she had done. Foolish and reckless and… Stupid! She glanced back toward the forest. The large trees blocked the field from her view.
    Women didn’t belong in the field. Not jousting. Not sword fighting. It didn’t matter how good they were. Angry and hurt, she pulled at the buckles on the breastplate. They didn’t belong in armor or on a horse. She tugged the buckles open and when the last one caught and wouldn’t open, she lifted the armor over her head, tugging and yanking it. A lock of her hair snagged, but she didn’t stop, she continued panting and pushing and pulling at the armor until it ripped the strand from her head. She tossed the armor aside with a shout of agony and landed on her bottom.
    Huffing, she stared at the armor. It glistened dully in the early morning sun. She would never joust again. She would never touch a sword and lift it in challenge. The only problem was she enjoyed it. She enjoyed riding Angel; she enjoyed wielding a lance and she had relished jousting. She looked down at her hands to find them still covered in Wolfe’s blood. It could just as well have been her own.
    Michael emerged from the tent. He saw her sitting in the dirt and signaled for her to come over. When she didn’t move, he cast a glance at the tent and then hurried to her side. “They’re as hot as a boiling pot of stew. You’d better start helping.”
    Layne stared down at the blood on her hands. She had hurt Wolfe, but she had won. A woman had won the joust. They would never let her get away with it. Not Colin. Not Wolfe. Not Lord Dinkleshire who had sponsored the tournament. They would make up some excuse to deny her victory and then they would punish her and her family. “What have I done?”



Chapter Two
    C arlton leaned over Griffin, pressing the cloth against his wounded shoulder. Physicians fussed over him as if he were an old lady. Griffin sat up and shoved his squire away, motioning for everyone to leave with a wide sweep of his arm, ordering them out of his pavilion with a growl.
    When they had fled, his mind was finally able to focus on what had happened. He remembered opening his eyes and seeing twin beacons of blue gazing down at him. For a moment, he thought he had died and she was an angel. Then, he recognized her slim face and full lips. The girl he had knocked over before the start of the joust. It took a moment longer for him to realize that she wore armor. And now, now, he realized what had happened and the full extent of her treachery. Dressing as a knight to joust against him! His fingers curled over the edge of his straw mattress. It was impossible! He had been knocked from his horse, senseless. And if that weren’t maddening enough, it had been by the hand of a woman!
    He swung his legs from the raised mat and pain flared through his shoulder. He looked down, peeling away the cloth his squire Carlton had placed over the wound. He studied the gouge. He must have received it from the lance. A lucky shot, that much was certain. It was bleeding, but it was no death wound. He would survive. He tossed the cloth aside.
    A woman! What type of joust was Dinkleshire running? How could he allow this? It wasn’t chivalrous to face a woman in a joust! It wasn't chivalrous to raise any weapon against a woman! Griffin rose. He planned to have words with Dinkleshire. He grabbed a tunic and pulled it over his head, marching from his pavilion as he tugged at the cloth.
    “M’lord!” Carlton greeted as he exited. He was a young man of seventeen, standing a hands-breadth shorter than he, a valuable aide always eager to learn the ways of a knight. His dark hair was uncombed, looking like brambles of thorns were entangled in it. He brushed