on the table.
Hal stepped forward and wrapped it in the cloth, casting his eyes over the twisted knots of the cross guard.
‘Thank you, sirs,’ he said as politely as his disappointment would allow. He walked out, head high. It was only when the door had closed quietly behind his back that he allowed his frustration full vent.
With a growl he turned and kicked the gate. It was childish but it relieved some of his disappointment. A greasy-haired man standing at the street corner with a tray of pies gave him a suspicious stare. Hal glared back and took a breath that rasped in his throat. He needed a drink. Water first to quench his thirst, then something more potent to numb the disappointment.
He strode to the fountain in the gardens and lifted the chained cup to his lips, drinking deeply. The lion’s head grinned at him, its sightless iron eyes mocking. Irritated, Hal flung the cup back into the basin sending water slopping over the edge.
A cry of annoyance made him start. He had not noticed the figure sitting on the step at the other side of the fountain, but now a woman stood and rounded on him furiously.
‘Watch what you’re doing, you great oaf!’
Joanna stood before him. She seemed to register who she was speaking to for the first time.
‘You!’ She wiped her hands over her damp dress. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Did your brother send you to find me?’
‘Do you take me for his lackey?’ Hal said bitterly. ‘I have better things to do than traipse around the city on errands for him!’
‘Then why are you here?’
Joanna folded her arms across her chest with indignation.
‘Don’t annoy me, woman,’ Hal growled. ‘I have no idea what brought you to this part of the city, but I am here on my own business and I am most definitely not in the mood to listen to your accusations.’
Joanna’s eyes glinted brightly and she gave a sob. Her eyes were red and swollen.
‘You ignored my advice, I take it.’ Hal sighed.
She bit her lip and nodded guiltily as if expecting recriminations while somehow still contriving to scowl at Hal from beneath long lashes. Being glared at by Joanna was like being scolded by a kitten.
‘He said he cannot marry me. He chose another’s favour.’
Remorse stabbed Hal’s guts. He had been instrumental in bringing her to this state. He had told Roger to make his intentions clear but the girl had not deserved such public rejection. He mentally cursed his brother’s unthinking cruelty. Assuming it was unthinking, of course.
His craving for a cup of wine increased but he could not leave the blasted woman here. Already they had attracted the attention of the pie seller who was eyeing Joanna with open interest. Recklessly he reached for her hand.
‘What are you doing?’ Joanna demanded, pulling against him.
‘You’re not the only one to have suffered a disappointment this afternoon,’ Hal said firmly. ‘I’m going to find a drink. I don’t want to leave you somewhere this isolated alone so I’m taking you with me!’
Her chin resting in her hands, Joanna stared moodily at the cup before her.
‘Drink,’ Hal instructed.
Joanna opened her mouth to refuse, but Hal’s watchful expression made her think twice. She took a small sip. As the sharp, cheap wine hit her tongue she realised how thirsty she was and how dry her throat, no doubt the result of the weeping she had done. She took a deeper swig, then another until she had all but drained the cup. She slammed it on to the table and glared at Hal defiantly.
Hal raised his cup in salute to her and drained it in one. He leaned back against the wall, his shoulders brushing hers, and stared at the cup, rubbing his finger across the rim.
‘Now can we leave?’ Joanna asked.
Hal did not appear to hear her. Joanna stared about the room. The customers were quiet, serious men dressed in rough work clothing, nothing like the company her uncle kept. It wasn’t the sort of place she imagined a nobleman’s son would choose to drink in.
Hal refilled their cups and turned his attention to the long, cloth-wrapped bundle that he had propped against the bench between them. He affixed it with such hatred that Joanna burned to know what it contained. She glanced sideways at her companion—this dark figure, so like Roger in appearance, yet so different from the carefree, easy-tongued young noble. Joanna shifted in her seat.
‘If you’re planning to keep me as hostage all evening, I’d rather know sooner than later,’ she said archly.
The anger that had not left Hal’s eyes since their unintentional meeting began to ebb and the crease between his brows smoothed. His lips flickered in what might have been amusement.
‘Hostage? You do have a knack for overstatement.’
Joanna scowled. ‘What else would you call it? I didn’t ask to accompany you. You half-dragged me through the streets, despite my protests, barely speaking to me along the way. You barricade me into the corner and now give me no indication how long you intend to keep me here!’
Hal spread his hands wide and leaned back against the wall. ‘You are free to leave whenever you like.’
Squashed into the corner by the fireplace, she had no way of leaving without crawling under the table or climbing across his lap. Her chest tightened at the idea of such closeness and she hurriedly took another drink. ‘I’ll stay...for now.’
Hal gave a brief, empty smile. ‘Good. No one should drink alone when they’re sad.’
Joanna’s eyes pricked at the reminder of how distraught she had been when they had met. She realised that her distress had vanished, replaced by anger and curiosity at Hal’s odd behaviour. Now the memory of Sir Roger’s callous words reared up once more and a lump formed in her throat. Her lip trembled and Hal’s expression became sympathetic.
‘We have established that I was not searching for you,’ Hal said, ‘but tell me why you were skulking alone in a square?’
Joanna shrugged. It was none of his business.
‘I was waiting for someone.’
Hal’s eyes lit with interest. ‘Who? Have you finished grieving for my brother so quickly?’
‘Don’t mock me! How can you suggest such a thing? Why do you seem to enjoy wounding me?’ Joanna slammed her cup on to the table, causing the men at the next table to regard them curiously. ‘I will never forget your brother. My heart is in pieces and my hopes are...my hopes...’
She broke off as the lump in her throat expanded to the size of a fist. Hal refilled their cups and held one out to her, a small gesture of apology. She took it and tossed the wine back.
‘I have no hopes,’ she muttered, self-pity enveloping her. ‘I love him and it is for nothing.’
Hal picked up his cup and took a long, slow drink. ‘I cautioned you not to approach him today but you didn’t listen to me. If things are not going his way, his temper can be short. Surely you know this about him, though?’ Hal’s lip curled into a grimace. His face was so like Sir Roger’s that it could be the knight himself mocking her.
‘My brother only comes to York twice a year for the tournaments. In three years you can only have been in his company seven or eight weeks at most,’ Hal said kindly. ‘Has he ever asked for your hand?’
Joanna’s stomach twisted. ‘Never directly. He said he had to wait until he had enough money. He’s suffered losses in other years, but now he says he can never marry me. What can have caused him to