by Lynsay Sands
Odel made a face at Matilda's slightly sarcastic comment and shifted to make room for her godmother on the trestle table bench beside her. It had been several days since the hunt, and there were only three more days until Christmas. Lord Suthtun was still at Roswald.
Michelle had been joining her to break his fast every morning since the day of the hunt. He had still spent a good part of the day above stairs with Eadsele, but he had started to take his meals below, claiming he did not wish to burden the servants with the extra work of carting a meal up to him. But today he had not come down. Eadsele was again very sick.
Though for the past several days the boy had appeared to improve--yesterday Lord Suthtun had even brought the boy below to sit by the fire and announced that tomorrow they might risk continuing on--during the night, Eadsele's fever had suddenly shot back up. This morning he was ill as he had been the first night. Returning home was now out of the question, of course, two-hour journey or not, and Michelle had decided to remain above stairs with the boy to see if there was aught to be done.
Odel missed him already. She had grown quite used to having the man around, a fact that was just as awful for her as his absence. Her feelings for the man had only continued to grow these past days, along with her desire. There had only been a few opportunities for stolen kisses since the hunt, and after every one, Matilda had shown up, eyeing them with disapproval. She was making it more than obvious that she was truly displeased with the time Odel spent with Michelle. But then, Matilda had been displeased with the man's arrival right from the first. Odel supposed that her godmother considered his presence a fly in her ointment. The goodhearted but damnably stubborn woman still wished to marry Odel off to one of the rich, handsome suitors she herself had provided.
Odel paused. Now that she realized that her feelings for Michelle had reached a point where his leaving would be painful, Odel found herself wishing that Matilda had found a way to remove him. In fact, it suddenly seemed odd that the old woman hadn't.
"I am sure Lord Suthtun is a very nice man," Tildy was saying, "but he isn't nearly as handsome or wealthy as the suitors I have provided. I wish you would waste less time on him and spend more with a lord like Beasley. Or perhaps Lord Trenton, he is--"
"Explain something to me," Odel interrupted. Matilda's eyebrows rose.
"What dear?"
"Why have you not simply cured young Eadsele and seen Lord Suthtun out of here? That would have left the way clear for the others." As she made the observation, Odel stiffened as her own words sank in.
"What is it?" Tildy asked warily.
"My God," Odel breathed, then shook her head. "Nay. It cannot be."
"What?" Matilda was suddenly looking wary.
"Nothing." She forced herself to ignore the brief thought that struck her. Had Matilda not cured the boy because she did not really wish Odel to fall in love with one of her supposed suitors? Had Michelle been the man Matilda was really trying to get her to fall in love with all along? After all, it was rather odd that Lord Suthtun had chosen to stop at Roswald to rest only two hours' journey from Suthtun. And it was rather odd that the boy's illness had come on so suddenly. But, no. This was all just coincidence, she assured herself. Wasn't it?
"Why did you not cure the boy?" Odel repeated.
"Oh. Well, my magic does not work on humans," Matilda assured her, but she was staring downwards as she said it, reluctant to meet her gaze. Odel felt her stomach clench slightly; her godmother was lying.
"This was your plan, wasn't it?" she said quietly.
Matilda's expression closed. "What?"
"You never intended that I should fall in love with one of the others," she accused. "You knew I could not fall in love with any of those vain, silly, shallow men. You gave me a castle full of them, then presented me with Lord Suthtun in the hopes that I would fall in love with him."
"Now that is just silly. Whyever would I do a thing like that?" Matilda gave a nervous laugh and Odel exhaled in angry disappointment.
"I should have realized that was what was going on sooner," she said sadly. "You were so rude to him." Odel shook her head. "But that was all just part of your plan. You were rude, so I was extra nice. Then, too, my fear that you might perform some magic trick around him meant I would spend an awful lot of time trying to keep him away from you and the others, which would constantly throw us together."
"Oh, really, my dear." Tildy gave a strained titter. "You give me far too much credit. I could never be so devious."
Tildy was a horrible liar. She wasn't very convincing at all. Odel almost wished she were. Then she could believe that Michelle's interest in her was real. But like all those handsome, wealthy lords that were sniffing about her like dogs around a bitch in heat, Lord Suthtun's interest was induced. She was not foolish or vain enough to imagine that any of their attraction was real. In fact, that was part of the reason she had found their presence at Roswald so annoying. Aside from the fact that she wasn't interested in a single one of her suitors, she had suspected that their interest in her had to be a result of Matilda's magic. And yet, she had thought Suthtun was different. Tildy had seemed to dislike him so much, Odel had thought--
"Excuse me." She stood up stiffly and walked away from the table, positive her heart was breaking.
Chapter Six
"Are you ready?"
Odel grimaced at Matilda's question, but nodded grimly. "Aye. Is it time yet?"
"In just a moment." Matilda sounded excited. Odel was not. This was the fourth time Matilda had said "in just a moment." Meanwhile, Odel stood waiting uncomfortably in the kitchens, trying to ignore the gaping of the cook and his staff. They had never seen her like this, she supposed. Well, they had best enjoy it, because it was doubtful they would ever see it again. She crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously. While the costume Matilda had created for her was lovely, she was positive her nipples showed through the diaphanous material.
Created. Odel rolled her eyes at that. The woman had made her strip naked in her room, then taken out a pinch of fairy dust and blown it on her. When the dust had cleared, Odel had found herself wearing this, the most amazing creation she had ever seen--a toga-like gown made up of the gauziest material ever. It was like wearing nothing at all. Or wearing the stars. Even her skin seemed to glimmer, likely with remnants of fairy dust. It showed a lot of her flesh. It was indecent.
If she had realized she would be expected to wear a costume like this, Odel would have put a halt to the pageant Matilda had suddenly proposed. At the time her godmother had mentioned it, Odel had thought that arranging the skits might keep the woman out of trouble. Little had she realized that she was to be the feature attraction. When Matilda had begged her to be in it, the woman had sworn her part was a very minor role, that she would not even have to learn lines. And, the role called for a woman, Tildy had said, and Odel was the only suitable lady present. Her aunt had not bothered to mention the role she was to play. Although, even had she said as much, Odel may have still agreed, not realizing what it would entail her wearing. Now that she knew, Odel was wishing she had simply nixed the pageant to begin with.
"Now."
She glanced to Matilda questioningly, but the woman was stepping aside and pulling open the kitchen door. Six lords, also coerced into playing roles, immediately began to move forward, pushing her out into the great hall on another of Matilda's creations: a platform on wheels, covered with gauzy blue material somehow made to remain in the curved shape of waves. Odel was Aphrodite, the goddess of love, rising from the waves.
Sighing inwardly, Odel struck the pose Matilda had insisted on, clasping her hands beneath her chin and slightly arching her back. There was silence in the room as she rolled out, then Matilda's gay voice began to narrate the story of Aphrodite and Ares. Odel stayed where she was, her gaze searching the audience for Michelle, but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he hadn't come below, she thought sadly and sighed. She had been avoiding him. She hadn't been rude to him o
r anything--this was not his fault after all--but for her own self-respect and sanity she had decided to keep her distance until he left. She had been hard-put to ignore the confused glances he'd been casting her way ever since.
Matilda had just introduced Ares. Odel glanced around to see the god of war step through the keep doors at the opposite end of the great hall where he had been waiting. Out in the cold, she thought with a grimace. She almost felt sorry for Lord Beasley, the man that Matilda had assigned the role of her illicit lover. But as the figure drew nearer, Odel's eyes widened. Her jaw dropped as she took in Michelle's wry smile. Dressed in a short--almost indecently so--toga and carrying a shield and sword, he mounted the steps to her foamy platform.
As Matilda narrated the tale of Aphrodite and Ares, lovers despite Aphrodite's marriage to Hephaestus, Michelle's expression turned apologetic. He took her in his cold arms.
"What are you doing?" Odel stealthily whispered in his ear as they embraced. "Lord Beasley was supposed to be Ares."
"Lord Beasley was not feeling well. Your aunt asked me to step in."
"Oh." Odel glanced distractedly at Vlaster. The man rode around the platform in a small chariot-like affair led by two more of her suitors wearing horse masks. Vlaster himself wore a long gold toga and was supposed to be Helios, the god of the sun, catching them in their infidelity. Honestly, the man looked more interested in the cock in a cage that he carried than in Odel and Michelle; he was looking at the bird as if it might make a tasty snack. When he rode out of the keep's front doors and out of sight, Odel shifted a little closer to Lord Suthtun. "You must have been freezing out there. You are still cold."
"While you are pleasantly warm," Michelle murmured, his arms tightening around her. Matilda droned on. The older woman was relating how Helios was quick to report Aphrodite's infidelity to her husband Hephaestus, and how the two plotted to catch the lovers in the act.
The keep doors opened again and Vlaster's chariot returned on a cold breeze. This time there was a second man with him, a rather large, muscular fellow carrying a hammer: the castle smithy. She recognized him after a startled moment and smiled wryly to herself. Who better to play Hephaestus?
"Your aunt said that when the chariot came back I was to kiss you," Lord Suthtun murmured next to her. Odel glanced up at him with surprise.
"She did?"
"Aye. She said it was to represent Ares and Aphrodite making . . . er--"
Flushing with embarrassment, Odel silenced him by quickly pressing her lips to his. After a startled moment, Michelle's kiss became real. Odel felt herself melt in his arms. Her hands crept up to clasp around his neck, her body shifting and arching into him. Without thinking, she gave in, breathing small sighs and moans of pleasure into his mouth. Then something unpleasantly cloying dropped over them and Odel and Michelle froze in surprise.
"Hephaestus's net," Michelle muttered. Odel suddenly remembered that she was in the midst of a pageant. Aye, of course, and Hephaestus, or the Roswald smithy, had just thrown a special net over his unfaithful wife and her lover to parade them before the Olympian gods. While Odel and Michelle embraced under the net, the platform was pushed around the room.
According to Matilda's narration, when presented with the unfaithful pair, the gods merely commented on Aphrodite's beauty. Many simply claimed that they would not mind switching places with Ares. Roswald's villagers and soldiers were more than happy to act the parts of the Olympians. Even a few of Odel's suitors made ribald comments.
Feeling herself blush from her forehead to her toes, Odel herself almost felt guilty. She was more than relieved when the circuit of the room was finished and Matilda continued her narration.
The net was pulled from them. Knowing she was expected to exit, Odel waited for the platform to begin moving again, but it appeared the wheels were stuck. The men who had pushed the platform out were straining painfully to move it, but it would not budge.
Frowning, Matilda recited the part where they left again, and again the men strained at the platform, but still it did not move. When Tildy frowned, then glanced toward Michelle expectantly, he hesitated, then swept Odel up in his arms. Striding from the platform, he carried her to and through the keep doors. Behind them came the sound of thunderous applause.
"Music!" Odel heard Matilda shout as the doors closed behind them.
No longer in character, Odel was terribly aware of her state of undress. It was a relief when Michelle set her down on the icy castle steps.
He frowned with concern, then around at the winter night. "It is rather brisk tonight. How long were we supposed to stay out here? Your aunt did not say."
Shivering, Odel made a face. "This is long enough, I think."
"Aye," Michelle agreed and turned to pull open the door, but it did not open. He pulled again. The door remained firmly shut.
"What is it?" Odel asked with a frown, reaching past him to give the handle a tug herself. The door didn't budge.
"Is it bolted?" Michelle asked with a frown.
"We hardly ever bolt the door. It should--" She shook her head with distress and tugged again, fully expecting it to open.
"Perhaps the bolt dropped into place when it closed behind us," Michelle suggested. Odel continued to tug impatiently at the door, not commenting. At last she began to pound on it in the hopes that someone would notice.
"I do not think they can hear us over the music," Michelle murmured after a moment. Odel paused to listen. Sure enough, the musicians were now playing a rather loud song. The audience members would never hear them.
"It is rather cold out here. Is there another door?"
Sighing, Odel began to rub her arms in an effort to warm them. She turned to peer absently around the bailey. "There is a door into the kitchens."
Nodding, Michelle scooped her into his arms again and promptly started down the stairs. "Which way?" he asked as they reached the bottom step.
Gritting her teeth to keep them from chattering, Odel pointed to the right and Lord Suthtun broke into a jog. He loped quickly along the outer wall of the inner keep, then around to the back and the door leading to the kitchens. Still holding her in his arms, he reached out and pushed at the door. It was as firmly shut as the front doors. Frowning, he let Odel slide to her feet on the snowy path, then grabbed the door firmly and pulled. Nothing happened. The door remained solidly closed. Michelle began pounding on it. He banged for several minutes straight, but no one came to open it. They were locked out.
Shifting from foot to foot, arms crossed over her chest, teeth chattering, Odel stood, miserably waiting.
"I do not think they can hear us here either. We should--" His voice died as he turned to peer at Odel in the moonlight. Frowning, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. "My God! You are freezing." He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, then suddenly swept her up in his arms again and began to carry her back across the snowy ground.
"W-Where are we g-going?" she chattered, clasping her arms around his neck and holding on for all she was worth. She buried her face in his hair. She had hoped that his heat might warm her, but he was cold, too. He paused several moments later and she glanced around to see him pull a door open. Wincing at the loud creak it made, she squinted in an effort to see inside the room into which he now carried her. It was dark, but not pitch dark. The dying embers of a fire in the center of the small building gave off some light. Carrying her inside, Michelle set her down on a stool. Leaving her there, he hurried back to close the door, then moved to the fire to urge it back to life. Within moments he had a nice-size fire going again. He watched it for a moment, then moved to squat in front of her.
"The smithy's forge," she got out between shivers.
"Aye." Michelle took her bare feet in hand and began rubbing them, frowning at her icy flesh. "You are freezing."
"You, too," she muttered, and he laughed.
"These costumes were not meant for winter wear." His cold hands moved vigorously up and down her colder calves.
/> Odel was silent as she watched him minister to her, amazed that he would kneel on the ground to tend to her when he himself was likely freezing. His head was bowed, his hair shining in the light from the fire, his hands moving over her flesh.
"Once I've warmed you up, I will go see if I can get them to let us in," he said, his voice sounding oddly husky. His hands moved over her knees and began to smooth up her thighs.
Without thinking, she reached out, gently touching his soft hair, then stilled when he raised his head. Flushing slightly at the way he looked at her, she let her hand drop away, but he caught it. He began to rub that now, his eyes beginning to smolder. They were both silent for a moment, then he raised her hand to his mouth.
Dragging in a ragged breath, Odel automatically began to close her hand, but Michelle held it open. He pressed a kiss to the tender flesh of her palm, then to the sensitive place between her first two fingers. Odel shifted slightly where she sat, her breath catching in her chest as his tongue swiped lightly at her skin. It tickled and sent little arrows of erotic excitement quivering up her arm. She bit her lip to keep from gasping aloud.
Raising his head, Michelle peered at her silently for a moment, then bent to bestow another kiss, this time to the inside of her wrist.
Odel raised her other hand to touch the side of his face, her heart swelling when he turned into the gentle caress. But then he turned back to what he had been doing, his lips nibbling her inner arm up to the crook of her elbow. Odel caught her breath and squirmed on the stool he had set her on, but the breath escaped on a low moan as he suddenly turned his face and pressed his open mouth to the side of her breast.
Shuddering slightly, she clenched her fingers in his hair, then watched, breathless, as his mouth traveled until it found and settled on her nipple. Through the soft material of the gown--the gossamer material may as well not have been there, it was so thin and translucent--he began to suckle at her nipple. The fabric rasped against her suddenly sensitive skin, and overwhelmed by the erotic feel and sight of his actions, Odel closed her eyes on a moan.
She opened them again at once, though, when he urged her legs open. Shifting to kneel between them, he lifted his head and pulled her face down for a hot and hungry kiss. It succeeded in raising Odel's temperature faster than any amount of chafing could have.