Four days after her arrival at Airdfinnan, Esmeraude was sorely troubled. Though Connor had departed quickly, she could not have been accused of failing to spend time with Amaury or Nicholas. Neither offered a kiss that made her toes tingle, neither made her heart skip a beat, neither occupied her dreams.
In marked contrast to Bayard, who haunted her every thought. Worse, he seemed to have forgotten that he was at Airdfinnan because he had pursued her there, in order to win her hand. After that first night, he ignored her attempts to stir his jealousy.
This was not good. Esmeraude had spent even more time with both knights.
’Twas to no avail. Bayard brushed his horse, jested with Angus and flirted with the maids.
Esmeraude found herself gritting her teeth; only the occasional wink from
