“I don’t think Donna will have what Blaise wanted.”
Jaclyn humphed softly. That was more like the Alexander she remembered! Always thinking of girls and their bodies. He had once offered her a shilling if he could see her breasts. “Every woman has the same thing between her legs.”
Alexander’s eyes grew wide and a surprised smile lit his face.
Yes. It was exactly the same Alexander she remembered... And had dreamt about. But now he was older and more dangerously handsome.
“But they use it differently.”
Jaclyn scowled slightly. She didn’t know what that meant and wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She turned and began down the hallway. “So now you’re following me?”
Alexander walked beside her. “We used to play spy and I was very good at it.”
She stopped and faced him. “What are you trying to find out? I’ll tell you whatever you need to know. We don’t have to play games anymore.”
“But they were so much fun.”
Jaclyn sighed softly. “I no longer have time for games.”
Alexander hooked his finger beneath her chin and raised it until she looked him in the eye. “There is always time for games.”
Her breath caught. The feel of his skin against hers was like nothing she remembered. It stirred heat in her lower stomach. And his eyes! So very blue and playful. He was, indeed, handsome and alluring. So much more than she remembered. So much more than she dreamt of. The catch of his lips made her grin with him. She had missed him so much. “You’ve been gone for a long time.”
He dropped his hand. “I thought of you every day.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Liar.” The spell was broken with his sleek words. Perhaps they were words he could get away with telling his other women, but she knew him too well. “How many women swooned when you told them that?”
“Jaclyn,” he said softly. “It has never been more true than with you.”
Jaclyn rolled her eyes. “I just wish for once you could be my friend instead of trying to see my breasts.” She turned and walked away down the hall.
“Watch out for Blaise!” he called after her. “And I still do want to see them!”
Jaclyn couldn’t sleep the entire night. She didn’t like D’Sayre being so close to her and the castle. He was, after all, the enemy. He was the one knight she was certain to have trouble defeating. At first light, she was out of her bed, storming down the hall. She shoved Paul’s door open, ready to get him on his feet. They needed to prove that the Mistletoe Knight was more than ready for this joust. They needed to practice. The Mistletoe Knight would have to be at his best to defeat Blaise. She shoved open the curtains, letting in the bright sunshine.
Paul groaned and rolled over in the bed, pulling the covers over his head.
Jaclyn yanked the covers from Paul’s head.
“Jacie!” he cried. “Have pity.”
“Up Paul.” She couldn’t do this alone. She needed him to help her. The Mistletoe Knight had to practice. It wasn't like all the other times they had practiced together, when there were no other knights at the castle and they could go to the mistletoe glen and practice by themselves for hours. Now, it was risky because of so many people gathered at the castle. And with spies, be they Alexander or Blaise, lurking about, they had to be cautious. Paul couldn't be seen practicing. That would give away everything.
When she looked at Paul, who had put his hand across his eyes, shielding them from the sun, Jaclyn’s fury rose. “Paul!” she cried. She climbed on the bed and straddled him, one leg on either side of his body. Then she began to jump, shaking the entire bed.
“God’s blood!” Paul sat up. He wormed his way out from beneath her. “You’re a wicked girl. Wicked. Evil.”
“Enough sleeping, Paul.” She leaped from the bed and moved to the window, leaning over the edge. “There will be knights practicing soon. You need to be done before them.”
“Practice?” Paul protested. “Practice what? How to lose?”
“Paul,” Jaclyn rushed to his side, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet.
“I don’t think I can, Jacie. Sitting on a horse will make me vomit.”
“This is not a game, Paul. I will not have some unworthy lord winning this tournament and laying claim to our lands.”
Paul set a gentle hand on her cheek. “They won’t.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I know you. And I know that you won’t let that happen.”
“If anyone finds out...”
Paul lay back down. “They won’t.”
“What’s wrong with you? You can’t be like this when so much is at risk. I need your help.” When he didn’t reply, she hit his leg again.
“All right! All right! Go and be a proper lady and entertain our guests. I swear after the sun sets, I will go with you to the glen and practice.”
Jaclyn scowled at him. “The jousts are tomorrow. Promise me. Promise me you won’t forget.” He didn’t answer and she had to pinch his ears.
Paul let out a loud scream. “I swear! I swear.”
But Jaclyn knew he would be well into his drinking by then. She wasn’t really sure what to do. She hoped he would keep his word, but as a backup she told Donna to distract him from the ale.
As the day continued, Paul sought out more ale. He liked to drink. The blissful ignorance that he fell into was worth more to him than this accursed joust. It was halfway through the day when he spotted D’Sayre lounging at one of the tables in the Great Hall, watching him. And then he spotted him again in a corridor behind him. It didn't matter. As long as Paul had his ale, nothing else mattered.
Paul wandered out into the garden. It was one of his favorite places to pass the day. He lay in a sweet smelling patch of flowers and watched the gray sky.
Blaise stopped just before him.
Paul did not even look at him. “Did you ever wonder why there are darker gray clouds and some are lighter?”
“No,” Blaise answered tersely.
Paul languidly turned his gaze to him. “I was wondering when you would stop sneaking around.”
Blaise’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“I see the tunic Donna gave you is a bit tight,” Paul said, waving his hand slightly, a bit unsteadily. “Sorry about the accident last night.”
“Men who drink too much do that.”
Paul groaned. “Please! You’re starting to sound like Jacie.” He peered at him through closed eyelids. “Have you come to run me through?”
“No. I will defeat you on the field of honor. You’re no good to me dead.”
Paul’s eyes opened and confusion filled them. “What do you want?”
“Answers. Why don’t you practice with the others?”
Paul shrugged. “I don’t feel the need to practice.”
“Every knight practices. Are you that good or that stupid?”
“I guess you’ll find out.” He lifted the flask to his lips.
Blaise’s fists clenched. “Why haven’t you been jousting these past years? Hiding?”
“Actually, yes.” Paul wiped a sleeve across his mouth and lifted himself up on an elbow to look at D'Sayre. “I despise the joust. I despise knights. I despise...” He looked at him. “Being followed around to learn my secrets.”
“And what secrets might those be?”
“You are talking to the wrong man! Go speak with Jaclyn. She has all the answers.”
Blaise scowled.
Paul raised the flask to his lips and took a deep drink, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat. “My lovely sister knows everything. She has from when we were children, bossing me about like I am her pet. And no matter how hard I try, she is always better. At everything!” He whirled his head around to look at him. “Can you imagine ---” He stopped cold, a cockeyed smirk on his face. “You almost had me there, old boy.” His eyes lidded and he lay back, looking at the clouds for a long moment.
Blaise watched hi
m with those infernal hawk like eyes.
Paul knew he would have to be more careful. He lifted his hand to the sky, tracing an invisible pattern. “Dark gray. Light gray. And even some color of gray in between.”
Jaclyn held the bag over her shoulder as she ran through the tall grass in the field, avoiding the knights’ tents just over the rise. She rushed into the forest, not breaking her pace. She had come this way so many times that she could do it in her sleep. She easily leaped over a fallen tree and skirted some bushes. Dappled moonlight washed over the leaves on the floor, shining through the trees from above. Jaclyn hurried forward. She hoped Paul would remember to bring his horse, Nilly, so they could practice the joust.
When she broke into the clearing she could see the pond glistening beneath the stars above. She put the bag on the ground and spun, searching for Paul.
The mistletoe glen was empty. Chills of apprehension shivered up her spine. It is all right, she told herself. It’s early yet. He still has time.
She sat on the ground. Where was he? She tried to concentrate on something else. The feast this eve had gone well. There had been no fighting. But she guessed all the men were on their best behavior before the joust. When the joust began and there were official losers, then she guessed she would see more unchivalrous behavior.
She looked over her shoulder. Where was Paul? Suddenly, she heard footsteps. She stood, her heart thundering with joy.
Alexander exploded into the clearing. He looked around the clearing. “Where’s Paul?”
Her happiness vanished. What was he doing here? Following her again? She scowled. “He’s not here yet.”
He marched straight for her. “You came here to practice?”
“Well," Jaclyn stammered,”when Paul gets here.”
“D’Sayre is coming.”
“What?”
“He followed you.” Alexander kicked the bag behind the tree.
“Why is he following me? Why are you following me?”
He grabbed her arm. “D’Sayre is trying to learn your secrets. Me? I just want a kiss.” He pulled her into his embrace and pressed his lips to hers.
Alexander had acted out of instinct to protect her. When he had seen D’Sayre heading for the glen, he knew there could only be one reason. He wanted to get a glimpse of Paul practicing, perhaps learn something about his techniques to use against him in the upcoming joust. And he knew he would have to reach Jaclyn first to warn her of Blaise’s approach. He had been afraid that he would be too late to stop them, to late to prevent Blaise from seeing what a complete skill-less idiot Paul was. He should have known Paul would not be there. And he could think of no other reason why, at least none that D’Sayre would believe, he and Jaclyn were alone in the glen together, except for a rendezvous. Hence, the kiss.
He would have taken any chance he could get to hold Jaclyn in his arms and kiss her. As he held her, his hands skimmed over her back, drawing her close. She was stiff against his body. This wouldn’t do. Any man, including Blaise, would know this was staged. He had to make it look convincing. He gently ran his lips across hers, caressing, teasing them with delicate nibbles.
Slowly, her body softened and molded to his. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
Blaise crashed into the clearing, actually leaping a small bush to their right.
Jaclyn pulled away instantly.
Blaise stared at them in confusion for a moment, then looked around the clearing.
Alexander stepped in front of her. “What are you doing here?”
“I should ask you the same thing,” Blaise said.
Alexander held up his hands. “Jacie and I have been friends for a long time.”
“She is to be my future wife.”
“Only if you win,” Jaclyn said.
“And who stands in my way?”
Jaclyn lifted her chin. “The Mistletoe Knight.”
Again, Blaise’s gaze swept the clearing. “Indeed.” He looked at Alexander. “This was not what I expected to find.”
Alexander glanced at Jaclyn. At least Paul wasn't here to make a mess of things. He was probably deep in his ale by now. If he showed, Blaise would demand to see him in action. Alexander shook his head. “I will not make excuses for our rendezvous. Just know that lady Jaclyn’s virtue is intact.”
“That is surprising. I thought you had your way with any woman you desired.”
Alexander grinned as he heard Jaclyn harrumph at Blaise’s comment. “Yes. Be that as it may, it is. I respect lady Jaclyn too much to deflower her.”
“That is very honorable of you,” Blaise scoffed.
“Blaise, I didn’t want you to know. It would have been awkward.”
“It is awkward.”
“Stop. Stop it!” Jaclyn said. “You are both talking of me as though I wasn’t standing right here! I hate that father made me the prize! But he did. I will honor his last request and marry whoever wins the joust. But I don’t have to stand here and listen to the two of you arguing over who will win me.”
Alexander’s mouth dropped. “Jacie,” he called helplessly.
She whirled on him. “If the Mistletoe Knight wins, then I may choose who to marry. A knight of my own choosing.”
Alexander slowly lowered his hands. He nodded once. “Then I shall cheer for him, also.”
Blaise grimaced. “We have yet to see lord Paul practice. We have yet to see him sit atop a horse. I’m beginning to doubt if we ever will.” Blaise held his arm out to Jaclyn. “M’lady.”
Jaclyn hesitated a moment and glanced at Alexander.
Alexander offered his arm.
She shoved passed both of them and began to walk into the forest.
Jaclyn paced her room. They had not run into Paul on their way back to the castle. That meant he was probably drunk as usual. How were they supposed to pull this off? Who would believe that a drunk knight who never practiced could be so good?
And then there was Alexander. She stopped pacing and ran her fingers over her lips. He had kissed her! Heat infused her skin, her body at the memory of his kiss. It wasn’t the innocent kiss of youth she remembered. Oh, no. His experienced kiss, even just the memory of it now, sent flames of longing through her body. How many nights had she thought about kissing him? How many times had she imagined being held in his arms? But then he had left. It had been years since she had seen him. Too many years.
She had asked him to find Paul, but she really wanted to talk to him. Why had he kissed her? She sat on the bed and clasped her hands. Surely he felt what she did! She fell back on the bed. Most likely not. He was a known womanizer. Not at all the type of husband she would want. He had kissed too many women to feel anything from her inexperienced kiss, she was sure. She was no fool. And she would not delude herself.
The bag! She needed her bag! It held the sword and some of Paul’s armor! She rose to her feet and hurried to the door.
The door was shoved open unceremoniously and Alexander quickly entered, shutting it behind him. Their eyes met and a tremor shot through Jaclyn before she looked away.
Alexander dropped the bag on the floor. It clanged.
Jaclyn dropped to her knees beside it and pulled the strings open to look inside. She sighed softly when she saw everything was there. She closed the bag and looked up at him. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me. You never have before.”
It was true. She never had to. “Did you find Paul?”
Alexander nodded. “Passed out on the floor in his room. He had no intention of meeting you.”
Betrayal pierced Jaclyn like a sharp dagger. She was grateful he was safe, but this could not go on. What was he thinking? The joust was tomorrow! She couldn’t do this alone. Now there would be suspicion. No one had seen him practice for this joust. They had only seen him drinking. She looked at Alexander. Her friend. Could she ask him for his help?
Alexander watched her from his position near the door. His eyes were lidded, waiting.
She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “How did you know to come to the glen? How did you know that D’Sayre --?”
“When I saw the direction he was heading, it wasn’t hard to figure out where he was going.” Alexander knelt on the bed across from her, the bag between them.
“You came to my rescue?” She grinned. They often used to play a game where Paul was the evil king and Alexander had to come and save her.
Alexander’s grin grew. “It is part of the game, yes?”
Her gaze swept from his eyes to his lips and back. Oh, how she needed a knight to save her. Longing for him filled her. She should tell him. Resolve and loneliness replaced the yearning and she shook her head. “Not anymore.”
“True.” He reached across the bag and clasped her hands. “It’s not a game. You must be careful. D’Sayre is relentless in his mission to regain his honor. He has sworn to unseat the Mistletoe Knight.”
Jaclyn looked at their hands, his grasping her fingers, so much larger than her own.
He shook her hand. “Jacie! Did you hear me?”
She nodded. “I’ll tell Paul.” Alexander was staring at her so intently that she lifted her gaze to him. Was that disappointment in his eyes? Or suspicion? Her gaze dropped to his lips. “Why did you kiss me?”
He stared at her for a long moment, his blue eyes softening. “You know the answer to that. The winner always gets a kiss.”
Disappointment rocked her to the core. She felt an agony worse than Paul’s betrayal. It wasn’t even the answer she expected. It was still all a game to him.
“Of course,” she said and pulled her hand free. She gathered up the bag and stood. She put it in a corner of her room.
Alexander’s soft laughter came to her. “You were always good at distancing yourself. I’d forgotten that.”
She whirled. “Distancing myself?”
He moved to the door. “You live in a world all by yourself. Where you rule alone. It would be nice if you let someone in. Someone to help you.”
Merry Medieval Christmas Page 13