My Noble Knight by Laurel O'Donnell

eyes shone in the sunlight. Layne quickly looked away from them and moved to step around him.
    “Layne,” he said softly.
    Was this another punishment? Was he going to reprimand her for rushing onto the field?
    “I wanted to explain…”
    “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered.
    “It does matter.” Griffin straightened, looking down at her. “Can't you see that this is all for your benefit? I'm trying to teach you how women are expected to behave so you can marry into a good family and make your brothers proud.”
    Layne folded her hands before her. Her aunt had told her that numerous times. Make your family proud by marrying a man. A man who would never let her sword fight or joust. It was worse than death. “I was never good at embroidery. When I tried to sing, people would cover their ears or laugh. I can't cook. I can't read or write. I can't recite poetry. The only thing I was ever good at was sword fighting.” She grinned sadly. “The only thing I was ever interested in was the joust.” She looked up at him and fought down the lump in her throat. He'd saved her from the dungeon and for that she was grateful. “What kind of man would want to marry me?”
    “You can change.”
    “I can be miserable.”
    He frowned. He always seemed to be scowling when he looked at her. “Layne...”
    “I think my chances of marrying into a good family are long gone. So, why can't I be happy?” She turned away from him to enter the tent.



Chapter Nine
    T he sound of loud laughter woke Griffin late that night. He sat up. In the glow from the moonlight illuminating the side of the tent, he could see Carlton still asleep on his mat. He saw that Layne’s mat was empty.
    He stood immediately and rushed out of the tent.
    The Fletcher tent was close to his. He had allowed the proximity in silence, even though it infringed on his boundaries. They were Layne’s brothers. A fire burned in a small pit they had dug. The two older brothers sat close to the fire, eating something that looked fresh and smelled delicious.
    Griffin spotted her immediately. Layne sat on the ground with her back to him. Her long, dark wavy hair reached to the ground. She had her arm around the youngest brother. She leaned forward, listening intently to her eldest brother Colin.
    “Frances flipped him over the table and slammed him to the ground,” Colin said in a hurried whisper.
    “Where was Michael?” Layne asked.
    Griffin stepped back into the shadows of the tent, not wanting to disturb them.
    “Bringing the horses around,” Frances said, taking a deep drink from his flask.
    Griffin peered out between a gap in the tent flap.
    “I sent him out as soon as I thought there would be trouble,” Colin said in a quieter voice.
    Layne looked down at Michael. He slept soundly beneath her arm. She kissed his forehead.
    A longing came over Griffin as he watched her family. They were so close, each an integral part of the group. He had never felt like that with his family. He loved his father, brother and sister, but he felt like he was always competing with his older brother. And his sister, she was always too busy with her friends or her social obligations to pay him much heed. No, his family was not like hers.
    “Plus I didn’t want him to see if we got our arses kicked,” Colin said taking a large bite from his meat.
    Frances snorted and rolled his eyes.
    “We were outnumbered two to one!” Colin said around a mouthful of food.
    “Yeah, by a bunch of drunk farmers,” Frances clarified.
    “They were not farmers!” Colin protested.
    “They weren’t knights,” Frances countered.
    “Just because the one you fought could hardly throw a punch!”
    “The one?” Frances objected. “I think I handled three of them!”
    Griffin smiled as the men quarreled about who took on the most men. Boys. That’s what they reminded him of. Young men having a grand adventure. But why drag Layne around with them? They must have had no one to leave her