Midsummer Night's Fling: Belinda Boring, Kamery Solomon, Lacey Weatherford

by Weatherford, Lacey

  Sweeping my tresses to the side so they rested over my shoulder, his finger lightly traced the slender length of my neck.

  “Your skin, so clear and fair, holds a glow, and I would conjure up the different ways I would touch it should we ever meet. The pinkness of life is so alluring, but not as much as the crimson blush that spreads on your cheeks each time you feel an intensity of emotion.” I could feel the heat rising, and I bowed my head only to have him tilt it back. “Never hide how you feel, Aithne. It is incredibly appealing to someone who yearns for such truthfulness.”

  I was absorbed with him, and I searched his features to see whether he was in earnest. I’d never had anyone speak with me in such an intimate nature, and I found it daunting. Hadrian—one of Tuatha de Daanan—found me beautiful, an idea so incomprehensible. He was one of the Fair Folk. Legends far and wide spoke of their infamous charm and beauty. His words were difficult to believe.

  His thumb brushed along my bottom lip and pulled me from my thoughts.

  “There is a reddish berry where I’m from whose sweetness and fullness speak of its worth. After a small sampling, I soon declared it was the best I’d ever tasted by far—that is until I met you. I promise one kiss from you will bring shame to the fruit. It would be an experience to savor and cherish. I believe I would become gluttonous—one never being enough to fully satisfy.”

  He chuckled softly, his focus intent on my mouth as I quickly moistened my lips.

  “If this was all that was magical about you, it dims in comparison to your eyes. Worlds could get lost in them—civilizations. You express so much of who you are through them that I could sit for hours, days, years, and still not know all there is to learn. Surprisingly, they are the perfect shade of green.”

  “You definitely have a gift for words, Hadrian,” I murmured, finally able to draw my attention away from his. “Your flattery almost has me believe you.”

  Being under such praiseworthy scrutiny, I began to squirm. I did not know where the conversation was leading. I’d heard stories all through my childhood about being wary of the charming Fae, but it hadn’t prepared me for this.

  “Why wouldn’t you? I speak only the truth. You claim to hold no magic, and I have merely proven that you do. If you require further proof, give me your hand.”

  I settled it in his, and Hadrian turned it upward so my palm faced the sky and placed a light kiss there. Next he held it over his chest, and—keeping it still—I was able to feel the beating of his heart. It intrigued me in its similarity, and I watched in fascination. I soon became aware of a new motion—a slight tremor.

  “Do you feel it? Can you not see the effect you have on me? Never in my years have I ever trembled before another. Never have I experienced such anticipation. Mark my word, Aithne, you are powerful beyond measure.”

  A sense of empowerment flooded through me. My mother had once spoken of a power women hold over men, but I’d been much too young to comprehend it. She’d smiled at my innocence, and promised me that one day I’d understand. Sitting here with Hadrian, I was beginning to see glimpses of her meaning.

  “You make me feel the same,” I gushed. “When I’m with you, I can’t ever seem to catch my breath. Even though it was only yesterday, you are all I can think about, and the thought of never being able to see you drives me close to insanity. I’ve never experienced this. It’s as frightening as it is exhilarating.”

  “It is nothing more than Fae glamour. Its very essence can create an addiction with the human soul. If it truly upsets you, I can dim it somewhat but never fully extinguish it. From what I’ve heard, with separation it will gradually fade.”

  “Don’t speak of such things!” I exclaimed. A sudden flare of fear caused me to grab ahold of his hands and squeeze tightly. “I know you cannot stay forever, but don’t speak of leaving until you must.” My heart raced, and tears began to form in my eyes. The idea of never seeing Hadrian again was more terrifying than the effects of his nature.

  He nodded, keeping claim to my grasp and led me over to the water’s edge. He looked somber for the first time.

  “I cannot give you what you want, young Aithne. All I have are moments, but they are yours.”

  I watched in silence as Hadrian crouched by the river. His voice, soft as the breeze, whispered a few words. I wasn’t sure what he was doing. His finger trailed back and forth in the water. There was a stirring in the air, a tinkling sound that reminded me of a baby’s lullaby, and my mouth opened in surprise as I saw something appear under his fingertips.

  It took form, and slowly, I recognized what it was. I took a step back as Hadrian stood—in his palm was the perfect representation of the violets I’d woven into my garland. The flower was made of the clearest ice, and I looked up at him in awe.

  He lifted the small sculpture to his mouth and blew a steady stream of breath onto it. This created the faintest of sparkles to appear, and satisfied with his work, Hadrian offered me the gift. It was exquisitely detailed, and I could feel the coldness as he placed it in my palm.

  “So you have something to always remember this day.” He smiled and I struggled for a suitable way to express my emotions.

  “This is beautiful, Hadrian. For as long as it remains, I will cherish it.” I was careful in touching it, not wanting the heat from my skin to make it melt too soon.

  “I’ve enchanted it with Fae magic. It will forever stay the way it is. There’s no danger of you finding it a puddle of water.”

  “But I have nothing to give you in return.”

  He stretched forward, plucked a violet from my hair, and raised it between us. “You have. This will remind me of your beauty, and the chance I have had to lay at your feet and listen. I wish time would stand still so I could continue, but the evening draws near and I must go.”

  The wind whispered through the trees, and I shivered. I beheld the sky and realized the sun was close to setting. I should hurry if I was to make it in time for supper. But I was torn between knowing I must go home and not wanting this to end.

  “We will have more moments, little fire. I’m not yet ready to give you up.”

  I blushed over his using the meaning behind my name, and he bowed his farewell. I refused to take my gaze from him as I watched him retreat and fade into the shadows of the woods.

  I stood there for a time. The effects of his presence lingered, and I let out a contented sigh. This afternoon was heavenly—more than I’d ever hoped or dreamed for.

  A crack of thunder set my heart racing, and I jumped in fright. Large droplets of rain fell, further breaking the spell I was under. Not wanting to catch a cold, I gathered up the material of my gown and ran home.

  Chapter Five

  William

  Stepping out from the tannery, I pocketed my purchase with a pleased smile.

  My secret project was almost completed, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when I presented her with it. The gift was nothing fancy, a simple medallion hanging from a leather thong, but I had spent the past month painstakingly crafting it—using the different metalworking skills I’d been honing in my father’s blacksmith shop to make her something worth cherishing.

  All that was left was to thread the thin strip through the small hole I’d pierced, and it would hang perfectly around her neck. A sense of pride washed through me at the thought. The only thing that could trump that image would be the entwined band of a wedding ring on her finger.

  I shook my head to clear my mind. I was getting ahead of myself. We’re friends who exchange pleasantries whenever we meet, but the familiarity we shared as children has past, and will need to be rekindled. Courtship comes before marriage—and before that, an honest talk with her father.

  I’ve loved her for as long as I’ve breathed, and I’ve been adamant that one day she should be mine. It would all start with this medallion.

  As I passed through the village on the way back to the forge, I waved and nodded in greeting to those I met. Many offered well
wishes to be sent to my family, and others spoke of needing my services. Business was good, and with my apprenticeship coming to an end, I looked forward to the time I would take over the blacksmith shop.

  My father approached me a few nights ago with pride shining in his eyes. He had taken me on as a striker, and I had proven more than competent at wielding the heavy hammer that strikes the heated metal. As time continued, he entrusted me with larger projects and taught me more trade skills. He believed I was ready and he was eager to step aside and allow me to pursue a future—build a life that included a wife and children.

  My stomach rumbled loudly from the smell of freshly baked bread and treats from the bakery, and I realized—once again—I’d missed the noon meal. My mother has loved to tease me about the concentrated focus I have and my ability to tune the world out.

  “Afternoon, William.” A chorus of voices welcomed me as I approached the small goods display, but one stood out above the others. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what was to come. I didn’t know when I’d suddenly become the object of Fiona’s flirtations, but sure enough, as I glanced around I noticed her heading toward me.

  “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise!” She batted her eyelashes at me, and I tried not to pull away when her fingers stroked my bicep. She gave it a squeeze before dropping her hand. Judging from her look, I wasn’t sure whether she wanted to sample the crusted bread still cooling from the oven or me.

  “Hello, Fiona. How is the tavern today?” I asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from anything personal. Her confidence faltered slightly.

  “It’s the same as always. Will you be coming in tonight? We could share a tankard of ale together and you can tell me about your day, maybe enjoy a stroll by the river afterward.” There it was—the hope in her eye—and I covered my mouth to stifle a cough. I did not want to hurt her feelings. I’d made the mistake of flirting with her once, and she’d been relentless in her pursuit ever since. She was a beautiful woman but not the one for me.

  “Not tonight. Father has me busy with the Midsummer Night’s preparations. I imagine I’ll be up to the early hours of the morning. But thank you.” I offered her a smile, and watched as she opened her mouth to continue. I was saved from any further attempts by the baker asking for my order. Seeing her chance had disappeared, she quietly excused herself, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  As I handed over my coin and turned to leave, my heart suddenly began hammering within my chest. She was here—within arm’s reach—and my mouth went dry.

  “William! How are you?” Her eyes twinkled, and her lips curled into a shy smile. There was no denying she was pleased to see me as she looked expectantly at me. I stood there staring, taking in everything about her appearance—the way the wind had tousled her hair, how her cheeks were flushed from activity, and how her dress brought out the color in her eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful and enchanting. I chuckled when I realized she was awaiting my response.

  “I am fine, Aithne. Just getting myself something to eat.” I raised the packaged bread, and she nodded knowingly.

  “Missed the midday meal, did you? Again?”

  My ears burned with embarrassment. Evidently, she hadn’t forgotten my habit either. “Yes,” I answered, sheepishly. “Thank goodness my father had me run errands.”

  “I’ve always admired that about you, William. You are so dedicated.” She touched my forearm and this time, I didn’t move. The pressure from her hand felt wonderful, and I instantly missed it when she turned to pay for her own purchase. A flush of panic filled me—she would be gone within moments and our meeting over.

  “It’s who I am,” I replied, and taking her goods in my arm, I gestured for her to lead the way. We walked side by side, momentarily pausing so Aithne could return someone’s greetings. “How are you doing? Your family?” I asked in an attempt to prolong our visit. “I recently received a letter from Owen and he seems to be thriving. He writes as though he is having the adventure of his life, and I didn’t realize how much I missed him.”

  “We are all well, and yes, there’s seldom a time Owen doesn’t have me laughing over the situations he finds himself in. Papa is extremely proud of him, and my brother is well suited to the task. I’m hoping he’ll return home soon. I miss him, too.”

  “Maybe we could get together and do something—like we used to. Of course, we can’t do anything too wild.” I grinned, tweaking on her hair. It was funny how easy it was to slip into old behaviors in her presence. “We have reputations to maintain now. Heaven forbid anyone catch you covered in mud with your gown up over your head. Think of the gossip!”

  “That was your fault, you brat!” She slapped my shoulder, an indignant look on her face. There was a fire in her eyes, and I laughed as the memory of a fishing trip gone wrong flooded my mind. “I told you I was quite capable of retrieving my pole, but nooooo. Both you and my brother deemed me a frail female.”

  I remembered that day, and Aithne had been anything but feeble. In fact, she had been glorious standing there with dirt smudged on her cheek, trying so hard to reel in a stubborn fish. She’d been concentrating so hard, she hadn’t seen her worm pail. Her rod was sent flying into the water as she tripped. Thankfully a fallen log had snagged it farther upstream, and we’d argued over who would climb out to the end and untangle it.

  Owen had teased her about it not being lady-like. I just wanted to be her hero and see her smile. I’d watched with baited breath as she carefully tried to balance herself—one foot in front of the other—and had it not been for a sudden gust of wind, she’d have made it. Nothing matched her sharp tongue and fury as we walked home—she soaking wet and muddied and her brother teasing her without mercy.

  “Those were good times.” I tried not to laugh but failed miserably and was rewarded by hearing her own. The sound was infectious.

  “They were. I’ll make sure to include it in my next letter then. I know we have a lot to catch up on.” The blacksmith shop came into view, and Aithne pointed. “Do you need to get back to work? Am I keeping you?”

  “No, you are fine. In fact, I have time enough to walk you home if you’re going that way.” She looked so concerned, and I shocked myself by stroking the side of her cheek with my finger. She stilled—just as stunned—before blushing.

  What are you thinking? I thought, berating myself for being so forward. Slowly, William, slowly. Don’t scare her away.

  We spent the remainder of the journey reminiscing and exchanging childhood antics and feats of bravery. Some I had forgotten, and the longer we walked, the more I believed that Aithne was the one for me. A plan began to formulate in my mind, and as we neared the turn off to her home, I mustered up my courage.

  “Are you excited about the Midsummer Night’s festivities? My father tells me the village has invited a wandering minstrel group to play for everyone. My mother has spoken of nothing else—she even dances around the kitchen when she thinks no one is watching.”

  Aithne’s face lit up as she took hold of my hand and squeezed it. “Really? Real musicians?” She took a deep breath, and a faraway look breezed across her face. I could only imagine the kind of whimsical thoughts she was entertaining—of gowns and curtsies, twirling and swaying to the light of the huge bonfires that would be ignited. “It sounds wonderful. Yes, I can’t wait. I wish it were tomorrow!”

  “Will you save a dance for me? That is if you’re not busy being the belle of the night as the Mother Earth.” I knew she was hoping to be the girl chosen, and each night as I’d offered up my prayers I had asked for it too.

  “Yes, yes, I’ll most certainly reserve one for you.” She leaned in, a twinkle in her eye. “That’s if you’re not busy fending off the advances of Fiona.”

  We came to a stop at the stump that marked the walkway to the house. It seemed so natural to lean in and steal a kiss, and I almost fancied she paused as well, tilting her face toward me expectantly. I misjudged the moment though as a crestfalle
n expression appeared, and Aithne began looking around. At what I didn’t know, but it came across as though she was looking for something and was disappointed in not finding it.

  “This is where we part ways,” I said, handing over her package while keeping a firm grip on my own. “Thank you for letting me escort you and for the conversation. Maybe I can call on you some time.” In my mind, it was so I could take her into my arms and pledge my love and devotion to her.

  “Always the gentleman, William.” She rose on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. It reminded me of when she used to do it when we were children. “You are always welcome to visit. Next time make sure you come in and speak with Papa. He often asks after you.”

  Nodding, unable to form words, I waved goodbye as Aithne retired to her home. It was an uneventful walk back to the forge—my mind on my plans and the warmth of her kiss.

  Chapter Six

  Aithne

  The sound of birds twittering in their nests and the warm rays of the sun stirred me from restless sleep. In my dreams, I danced and frolicked with Hadrian, enjoying tender moments that caused my heart to race and my breath to hitch. All the while, William watched from the shadows—a look of hunger and longing on his face. The images confused me and left me with an unsettled feeling in the base of my stomach.

  I’d been disappointed at not seeing Hadrian the day before. I’d searched and spent many hours in hopeful anticipation of him suddenly appearing to whisk me away. But as the day had given way to night and I was still alone, my heart hurt.