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Christian had no choice other than to continue to try to prove himself to William— and wait.
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CHAPTER 6
    After two weeks of hard riding they were nearly to Derby. The past two nights they’d ridden until nightfall, and Christian had no chance to hunt game. But on this night William saw the exhaustion in the horses and decided to rein them in a little early.
    Christian went into the woods and came back with two pheasants and a pouch full of mushrooms. They prepared the birds and roasted them over a spit, letting the juices drip into a pan with the earthy, fluted mushrooms. William insisted that they had to finish the wine so he could refill the bladder in Derby. It was a feast.
    After they ate they remained at the fire, passing the wine back and forth. William felt a contented warmth he hadn’t in years. Even his concern about Elaine faded to a low murmur.
    “Why were you eager to leave your father’s castle?” he asked Christian.
    Christian tossed a chestnut into the fire to hear it pop. “My family is not fond of me.”
    William frowned. “How can that be? You earned your spurs. You’re said to excel at archery. The crowd at the tournament loved you, from the cries I heard. Especially the maidens.”
    He said this last with a wink, but a sad, ironic smile traced Christian’s lips. “Things are different on the inside than they appear on the outside.”
    “Then tell me how it fares on the inside.” William wasn’t sure he should press, but it was still early and he felt in the mood for conversation. Besides, he truly wanted to know more about Christian.
    “My brother Malcolm wants me dead,” Christian said with no emotion. “The others would just as soon have me gone. My father has always both loved and hated me.”
    “But Sir Malcolm supported your request to come with me.”
    Christian barked a laugh. “Well, my apologies, Sir William, it did sound a rather hopeless cause. ’Tis easier for him if someone else sticks the knife in my ribs.”
    William stilled his questions, but he wondered. A seventh son should be no threat to his elder brothers. Of course, Lord Branson’s other sons were rough-hewn and lumpy, like their father. They could not hold a candle to Christian’s natural looks and grace. Such things could inspire bitter jealousy, especially if a specific woman was involved. Is that why Sir Malcolm wanted him dead? Had Christian stolen his beloved’s heart?
    As if sensing his questions, Christian spoke again. “’Tis a simple matter. All my brothers share the same mother, Lady Mary. She was my father’s first wife. She bore him eight children, six of them boys. Then she died of a fever.”
    Christian took a slug of wine and continued. “My mother was Lady Enndolyn, my father’s second wife. The story goes that she was a renowned beauty and my father lusted after her for years. But she refused to have anything to do with him while he was married to another.” Christian paused. “In fact, it is said that Lady Mary’s fever might have been helped along with a dose of poison, so strong was my father’s lust for Enndolyn.”
    William breathed in sharply. “’Tis an evil accusation to lay on your own sire.”
    Christian shrugged. “I only repeat what is whispered among the servants. It was before my time, as you can well surmise. I know naught of it. But however it happened, by means fair or foul, my father was at last free, and he married my mother. He had her for only one year before I was born. She died in childbirth. He has never forgiven me. And my brothers— they hated my mother for dispossessing their dam, and by that same token, me.”
    William’s heart ached at the placid, frozen expression on Christian’s face. Christian had learned to school his emotions well.
    “My mother also died when I was young,” William said. “’Tis why I was so close to Elaine. She was younger than me, but she raised us both in my mother’s stead. I am sorry, Christian.”
    Christian