"You're looking at me as if I'm the one to blame for everything," she said, her brown eyes narrowing. He was as aggravating as ever—but what a relief it was to be able to talk to someone so freely! He was the one man in the world to whom she could say almost anything she liked. They had a common understanding.born of the intimacy they had shared, that enabled her to talk with him in a way she would never attempt with someone else, not even Rosalie. "It's convenient for you to blame me for the way you and Sackville behaved, but I would have expected more justice from you."
"Now why," Alec inquired dryly, "would you have expected that?"
"Because you wouldn't dare have the gall to judge me when you're so much more unscrupulous than I am."
Alec chuckled. "Point taken." "Good. Then I would prefer not to talk about this any longer."
"You were the one who brought it up." "We were talking about the Berkeleys," Mira said, making an effort to steer the conversation in another direction. She did not want to spend their time together exchanging recriminations.
"Yes, and you were telling me what you thought of them. Are they treating you well?"
She looked at him quickly, surprised at the tone of his voice. He almost sounded concerned… but his expression was bland as he met her eyes. "They're treating me well," she replied, "but aside from the earl and Lady Berkeley, I find them all very…" "Judgmental?"
"Yes, that's exactly it. Whenever Rosalie's not around, they seem to go out of their way to find fault with me."
"If that's all, you're doing well. The Berkeleys are known for being that way. They don't reserve their criticism for anyone in particular, they hand it out to everyone."
"Well, it's comforting to know that I'm not alone. But it's difficult to live with them." "Count your blessings. I belong to the Falknerfamily—they're even worse than the Berkeleys. Falkners love to argue and harp on each other's faults, and they all have fearsome tempers."
"Like yours?"
"Much worse than mine. I'm the meek one of the family."
Mira laughed. "Dieu, you've actually managed to frighten me with that remark. Where do these formidable tempers come from?"
"My father. He was the hotheaded one, while my mother has always prided herself on being cold and practical. She's become slightly mellowed with age, but in her youth she was the most hard-hearted woman in England."
"Then how did it happen that she married a man like your father?"
"He wore her down with his persistence. She finally relented after a particular incident at the medieval tournament, which was held in Staffordshire about thirty years ago. It was a grand production sponsored by Edward Penrhyn, who had always shown a great interest in medieval history and fancied himself a modern-day knight. At the tournament there were to be jousting and mock skirmishes, authentic costumes and traditions…"
"Jousting? Wasn't that rather dangerous, even at a mock tournament?"
"It depends on how involved one became with the game, I suppose. Penrhyn was enthusiastic about the idea because of his interest in two things. History was one of them."
"And the other?"
"An elusive and strong-minded woman… my mother, Juliana Penrhyn."
"Penrhyn… they were related?"
"Cousins. After the death of her first husband, Juliana had decided to marry again, and she had set hersights on Edward. It would have been a perfect match. But John Falkner, a local youth, had decided that he wanted her, and he pursued her relentlessly. She would have nothing to do with him." 'Why not?"
"My father was four years younger than she was, and hot-tempered. My mother has an icy nature, and the mix was not what she considered to be a good one. And John was the duke's second son, which meant that he would never have a title or money." "But which man did she love?" "She loved my father," Alec considered after a thoughtful pause, "but she didn't intend to let that change her decision to marry Edward. She was not a romantic."
"Impossible," Mira said firmly. "I haven't yet seen a woman who isn't a romantic at heart, no matter how well she conceals it." "You haven't met Juliana."
Mira shook her head and smiled. "Getting back to the tournament… ?"
"There was a crowd of seventy thousand people attending, including the king and the royal family. My father signed up on the list to compete in the jousting as the Knight of the White Rose. He would ride against the man who was most favored to win the tournament— the Knight of the Red Lion." "Who must have been Juliana's cousin Edward." "Exactly. Juliana sat in the covered grandstand to watch the jousting. She was elected Queen of Beauty, which meant that she would place a wreath on the winner's head. After several runs and a few well-placed hits with a blunt lance, Edward bested my father and won the tournament. So Penrhyn was the victor of the day, while my father lay on the field with a slightly injured arm and gravely wounded pride." "Did Juliana go to him?" Mira inquired softly. "As my aunts tell the tale, she knelt by him on theground and promised him heaven and earth. She thought he was badly hurt, you see, and perhaps even feared that the was going to meet an early demise on her account." Alec chuckled as he envisioned the scene. "Lord, I would have loved to see it."