“There, you see, Mr. Son-of-a-lord Hadley, he wants to look at cloth. If I wanted to stand there all day and do nothing but look at those silks, Allen would love to be with me. Can someone like you understand such unselfishness as that?”
Talis had no idea on earth what Callie was talking about. He was beginning to think an evil spirit had overtaken her body. The Callie he knew would rather look at books and rope walkers than piles of cloth. So what was different today?
When Callie saw that Talis had no understanding of what she was saying, her fists tightened and she turned away from him. “Come, Allen, let us go watch the bear baiting.”
“But that will make you sick,” Talis said from behind her, and there was real concern in his voice. “You hate to see animals hurt.”
Again, she whirled on him. “You make me sick! You with your ideas that you own me and know everything there is to know about me. You know nothing about me. Absolutely nothing. I happen to like bear baiting. It is a sport of skill and daring and adventure and Allen knows that I am a woman who likes excitement. I am not the dull, lifeless, prim little virgin you seem to think I am. Now, I want you to get away from me. In fact, I never want to see you again in my life.”
Allen couldn’t help smiling at that, for this Callie was getting prettier by the minute. When she was angry, her cheeks flushed and her eyes were bright with emotion. When she was like that, she was almost a beauty.
It looked as though at last her words had had some effect on this boy Talis, for when Callie started walking again, he stayed behind. Allen had to run to catch up with her.
Confidently, feeling that he had won a woman in a verbal joust, Allen said, “The bear baiting is that way.”
She looked up at him with horror in her eyes. “I have no intention of watching a bear and dogs fight each other. I hate blood sports.”
“But you said—You told that boy that—I thought you—”
“Can you never finish a sentence?” she said in an aggressive way. “What is wrong with you and why do you think that a woman has not the intelligence to read a book? Do you think we women waste our lives as you waste yours lounging about under a tree all day watching me hoe a garden? Is that what you think of me?”
“No, I…I mean, I—”
“Yes, what do you mean? Come on, tell me. Speak up.”
Allen took a deep breath. Were it not for all the money Lady Alida was offering him to stay with this girl, he’d walk away now. Let Talis have her, and with his blessing. The two of them deserved each other. “Would you like a cup of wine?” Allen asked, eyebrows raised. “Or perhaps I could buy you a wagon load of intoxicant and you could bathe in it.”
To his consternation, Callie burst out laughing. Allen had spent his life trying to win women, so he’d kept his sarcastic remarks to himself. Sweetness won women, not hateful, stinging phrases, so he was shocked when Callie laughed at his spiteful remark.
He had no idea that his remark was exactly like something Talis would have said to her. When she was in a bad mood, he always proposed outrageous things to do to sweeten her up, such as drowning her in honey, or boiling her in sugar syrup. One hot day when they were twelve, she had been too saucy for his taste, so he’d tossed her into a wagon load of peaches, saying she needed the nectar to mellow her temper.
All Allen thought when he made her laugh was that he was indeed a very clever fellow.
Several feet behind them, Talis ground his teeth; his nails cut into his palms as he made a fist. He knew when Callie was really laughing and when she was not. Until now her attention had been on him, on Talis. He knew she did not like this white-haired popinjay. But as soon as they were out of his hearing, she laughed at what he was saying. Really, truly laughed. Laughed in a way that, until now, only he had been able to make her laugh. Not Will or Meg or anyone in the village of the place he still thought of as home had ever made Callie laugh like that. Usually, she stayed close by Talis and looked to him for everything, shared everything with him.
But obviously, now she preferred someone else to him.
The hell with her, Talis thought. If she did not want him, he did not want her.
With every muscle in his body rigid, he turned away from the two of them. Let them have each other, he thought. Let them spend eternity together.
He was so stiff with anger that when he tripped over the obstacle in the path, he nearly fell on his face. He did not have his usual ease of movement, his usual swinging walk; he didn’t even have his sense of balance.
“Sorry,” Hugh Kellon said, for it was his foot that Talis had tripped on. But his tone implied that he didn’t mean the words. “Why are you rushing about? It’s a beautiful day, there are lots of pretty girls here, but you look as though you’re ready to start a war.”
“I must go,” Talis said stiffly. “Excuse me.”
“No!” Hugh said sharply, then softened. “Stay with me. I need the company.”
“I must return,” Talis said, each word forced from teeth held tightly together.
“Isn’t that your girl?” Hugh asked, nodding toward the figures of Callie and Allen, walking through the crowd, arm in arm.
“She is not mine,” Talis said stiffly. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must leave.”
“Pride is a very good thing,” Hugh said loudly, making Talis turn back. “One should always have much pride. Pride is the backbone of a man.”
“Yes,” Talis said, glad someone understood. “Pride is very important to a man.”