The Knights of Christmas

by Suzanne Barclay

  Desperate measures obviously were needed.

  She had tried reasoning with him, tried to pamper him, tried to get him to enjoy life, and she had succeeded to some degree, but her only real achievements were underneath the mistletoe and out in the snow. Despite whatever misgivings he harbored, Benedick desired her, yet he had forbidden her to kiss him and cleverly avoided being alone with her. Indeed, the hall was usually so crowded with holiday revelers from both the castle and without that the only real privacy to be found was in the few bed chambers.

  Noel went very still at the thought. From what she had seen, Benedick was an early riser, eager to get on with his day, so the only time she could be assured of finding him in his den was late at night. When he was sleeping. In bed. Naked.

  Noel swallowed hard. She was not so naive as to compare an embrace beneath the mistletoe to a visit to the great chamber. She knew very well that she had better be prepared to indulge in more than just kisses when she sought out Benedick’s bed. If he didn’t throw her out on her ear immediately, he would make love to her, and there would be no turning back.

  Noel shivered. She ought to be shocked by the train of her own thoughts, but instead she felt a flood of tingly warmth. Pleasure, anticipation. A wealth of emotions begging to be set free by his touch. Benedick seemed so often to deride her innocence that perhaps seduction would prove she was not too young, too inexperienced to please him.

  Noel caught her breath as she let herself consider such a course: Benedick’s initial resistance, followed by his rough, demanding passion. Noel imagined touching his body, melting into the hard, hot heat of him, and her decision was made as swiftly as the images that flashed before her.

  Dizzy with desire, she forced herself to plan carefully. She would have to divert Alard, who lay in front of his master’s door. No elaborate plot was necessary, for she need only ply him with too much wine and he would sleep like a rock. Noel smiled slowly. Some wine might be in order for Benedick, too, just to ease her way past his formidable defenses.

  But once there, she had no daubt that her knight would welcome her into his bed. And his arms.

  Benedick scowled as he watched Noel call for more of the strong wine. There seemed to be a lot of it flowing during the small supper and afterward. Alard was already laughing too loudly from his seat on the bench against the wall, where he was trying to entice a village maiden onto his lap.

  Benedick groaned. What was his ward up to? Although her time here had nearly run out, she continued to hold herself with grace and beauty and an abundance of good spirits. Until today.

  Although taut as a bowstring himself, Benedick had begun to notice a tenseness about her this afternoon that seemed to grow as the evening wore on. She kept darting quick, wide-eyed glances in his direction as if agitated by the very look of him. He frowned when her gaze slid away and color stole up her cheeks.

  What was she up to? He was accustomed to her ploys. Sometimes, despite his warning, she tried to tease him under the mistletoe or drag him on a private stroll, but he would have none of it. Try as he might to ignore it, he felt a twinge of guilt about her banishment that made him all too happy to accede to her wishes for now. Yet the niggling doubt about his decision did not extend to pleasing her in private.

  Leaning back in his chair, Benedick closed his eyes against the sweet, tempting sight of her, and acknowledged his own weariness. He was tired of fighting this attraction, tired of clinging to a life that had never given him satisfaction, and just plain tired. Last night, after the strange dream, he had stayed awake till nearly dawn. And now Noel was plying him with drink that was making him even more drowsy.

  “More wine?”

  The sound of her voice echoing his thoughts made Benedick blink. His lashes fluttered open to see her pushing another cup toward him while nervously tugging on a lock of her hair. She avoided his gaze in a way that was wholly unlike her, and his eyes narrowed. Was she trying to get him drunk?

  Benedick straightened as the suspicion shot through him. The whole situation reeked of one of Noel’s schemes, but why? Did she think to drag him insensate before the priest? The old man knew better than to marry them when Benedick was in his cups. What, then? Benedick watched her dart a swift glance at him and studied her. Her blue eyes glittered too brightly and her face was flushed as if she, too, had consumed too much, but he knew that she had not. When she passed him the wine with fingers that trembled almost imperceptibly, suddenly he knew.

  She was going to try to seduce him.

  Benedick’s body rose enthusiastically to the idea, and he shifted in his seat, tugging at his braies beneath the table. He promptly quelled the niggling voice that told him to go along, wholeheartedly, with her scheme. For, if he did, he would surely end up married to her. And he didn’t want that, did he? The answers didn’t seem too clear anymore, and he ran a hand through his hair.

  No matter, he told himself, for little Noel wouldn’t have much success if she kept forcing wine upon him. He was not your typical drunk. He did not lose his inhibitions and dance upon the tables. Nor did he bark and growl and beg for a fight. He simply fell asleep, which ought to wreak havoc with dear Noel’s plans.

  As if suddenly noticing his rather vacant expression, she appeared at his shoulder. “You look tired. Let me help you up to your chamber.”

  Benedick wasn’t tired enough to ignore the tension in her voice, and so he shook his head. “I’m going to sit by the fire,” he muttered. Suddenly he didn’t like the idea of sleeping through her seduction, especially when she might demand marriage in the morning anyway. Dragging his chair to the hearth, Benedick sat back and looked into the flames.

  His will was weakening, he admitted with a disgruntled sigh. Just the thought of Noel coming to his room made him hard and hot. Lying with her in that great, soft bed would be more potent than any dream. Drowsy with drink, Benedick let the scene play out in his head. What would she wear? How would she act? Right now she looked as eager as a lamb to slaughter, and Benedick frowned. That’s not what he wanted from her. What did he want? He wanted her gone, he told himself, but his resolve was fading. He wanted her...

  Closing his eyes against the slow seep of desire, Benedick let himself drift upon a waking dream that dissolved into slumber. And soon, the visions he had tried so hard to escape claimed him at last.

  This one was different, Benedick sensed that immediately. Instead of the usual warmth that permeated his being, he felt cold and distanced, an outsider, as he had been so much of his life. Blinking against the dimness of the world around him, he saw a hall that was strangely similar though different.

  Greenery was everywhere, along with brightly colored swatches of cloth and glowing candelabras denoting the season, yet something was subtly altered. Around the high table gathered a group of people, and Benedick wanted to protest the crowding but could not find his voice. Moving closer, he saw that they were children of various ages, but why did they surround his seat? And why could he not see it?

  In front of the table, a tall dark youth stood by a pretty girl with golden hair that seemed familiar, while two smaller children had their backs to him. Benedick saw another boy holding a baby, but the other side lay in shadow.

  “Happy birthday, Mama!” they all shouted, and a woman rose from behind them. With a start, Benedick recognized her at once. It was Noel, only older. Still beautiful and graceful, but mature and womanly wise, she smiled and laughed so gaily that he wanted to go to her.

  Instead, he remained silently rooted to his spot, while she moved among the children, drawing them to her with a loving gentleness that startled him until he realized they must be her own offspring. But how? And then she turned, a special smile reserved for someone seated in the shadows... in his chair!

  Her husband.

  Rage swept through Benedick as he tried to see man hidden there. Come out of the darkness, you coward, for I would know you! he shouted, though no one heeded him. His hand went to the hilt of his sword even as
he knew that he could not kill the father of Noel’s children. Their children. Beautiful and laughing, they filled the hall with life.

  Jealousy consumed him, sharp and stinging, and he shouted for an answer. Identify yourself! When none replied, he turned to Noel. Her eyes sparkled with happiness, yet she seemed to know him not. Who is he? Benedick demanded, reaching out to force her response.

  “Wake up,” she said.

  Benedick blinked. “Who is he?” he demanded as she knelt before him. Grabbing her shoulders in a savage grip, he leaned close, frantic to learn the truth. “Who is your husband?”

  She looked startled. “Why, you are, of course.” For a long moment, Benedick wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming or if the dream had become reality. Then she smiled, her lips curving so near to his own that he nearly claimed them and her, too. Dazed by the powerful vision, he felt like weeping for the want of her, for the want of...everything.

  “If I can convince you, that is,” Noel said. “Now, come up to your chamber. You were asleep in the chair.”

  Shaken more than he cared to admit, Benedick focused on her voice, her face, until instead of the woman of his dream, he saw Noel, her eyes bright with intent.

  His chamber.

  “No,” Benedick said unsteadily, as the present came flooding back, and with it, Noel’s heady plan to seduce him. “I think I’ll sit up here tonight.”

  “Here! Why?” she asked, obviously flustered. But her dismay only made Benedick more determined. She was young, beautiful, a virgin, and he knew that his drowsiness would disappear if he found her in his bed.

  “’Tis tradition,” he muttered through gritted teeth. She was positioned between his spread legs and the thought of her bending her head forward and that golden hair flowing over him like silk made him painfully hard. Along with the knowledge that she wanted him.

  Obviously she wanted something—either him, the keep or marriage—enough to offer herself up for it. But hers was a gift he could not accept. Although his body throbbed with frustration, Benedick was not so base as to take a young girl of good birth he had no intention of wedding.

  Unlike his father.

  The thought brought Benedick to his feet, and he drew her up with him. “Go on, Noel. ’Tis late, and you must seek your rest.”

  Her eyes were as wide and blue as the ends of the earth must be and better than any dream. “But I—”

  Benedick shook his head, even though his blood thundered and heated. “Catherine,” he called over his shoulder to one of her attendants. “See Noel to her chamber and make sure that none disturb her sleep.”

  When the handmaiden drew her away, Benedick sank back into his chair and stared into the flames. Gradually the hall quieted down, the servants made their beds in the corners and he heard the soft sounds of their retirement. At his nod, Alard extinguished the last of the candelabras and lay down on a bench nearby. For once, the youth did not pester him with annoying queries or comments, and Benedick was grateful for it.

  Even in the dim light of the hearth, where the Yule log still burned, Benedick could see the greenery everywhere, and he could smell the pungent odors of spices and boughs and berries, but without Noel’s presence the place lost its festive air. It became only a room, dark and bleak and full of nothing.

  Benedick sucked in a ragged breath as the memory of his vision returned. He felt a sudden tightening in his chest when he considered the choices it had offered him. Long into the night, well past the time when all around him slept, did he sit there, contemplating his past, his present and his future.

  And he realized that he could lock himself away at Longstone with his scars and his memories, or he could become the man in the dream. He could be Noel’s husband and the father of those children and embrace life with all the vigor he had once thought lost in battle.

  And for one long moment, still in the darkness, he nearly wished for it to be so.

  Chapter Seven

  Noel stumbled to her chamber, bewildered and off balance. All day she had summoned her courage, expecting to be bedded this night. Instead, it seemed she had been oddly rebuked by the man she had intended to seduce. Had she gotten Benedick too drunk? Noel knew little of wine’s effects, for her father had been a temperate man. And what was all that shouting about her husband?

  “Are you all right, Mistress Noel?” Catherine asked. “You look pale. Here, sit down.”

  “I’m fine,” Noel answered. Sinking onto the edge of her narrow bed, she was vividly reminded that this was not where she had expected to sleep. The knowledge made her breath catch on a sob, and she cleared her throat, pushing aside her tumultuous emotions, at least until Catherine was gone.

  “Let me help you undress,” the girl said, and Noel nodded. The daughter of her father’s old steward, Catherine had been brought up in Noel’s household after the man died. She was barely fifteen, but responsible beyond her years, and Noel had gladly brought her along to Longstone. Lately she had noticed the maid’s eyes lingering on Benedick’s playful squire, and she hoped that Alard did not break Catherine’s young heart.

  The thought swiftly brought her back to her own problems, and Noel shuddered as Catherine tucked her into her own bed. Alone. “I will bring a pallet in here beside you,” the girl said, studying her anxiously.

  “No! You go on to sleep. I will be fine.”

  “But Sir Villiers told me to make sure none disturbed you,” Catherine said, obviously torn between her duties. “Perhaps I will put a stool outside your door and sit for a while.”

  “Very well, but I would have you get a good night’s rest, for tomorrow is...another day of celebration,” Noel said, her voice breaking.

  “Are you sure you are well?” Catherine asked.

  “Yes. Go on now,” Noel urged. Closing her eyes, she waited until she heard the door shut, and then she turned her face into the pillow, but she did not weep, for fear Catherine would hear.

  Finally Noel sat up, hugging her knees in the darkness and fighting back tears of frustration and bewilderment. Her scheme to seduce Benedick had gone strangely awry, and now she had but one day remaining before Epiphany. One day in which to work some sort of miracle, or else...

  Her wish was not going to come true.

  Stifling a sob, Noel told herself that it was time to face the truth. She had gambled her future and lost. Maybe Benedick was right, and she was a fool for believing in wishes. Maybe her mother was wrong, and there was no such thing as Christmas magic. The whole season might well be a sham, a jape in which people played at kindness in order to revel and feast.

  Immediately Noel was seized by guilt for such thoughts. They rang of disrespect for her mother, if not blasphemy. And her entire being rebelled against such a calloused view of the world. Determinedly she clung to her vision of a holiday filled with goodwill toward men and miracles beyond the ken of mere mortals, for if she couldn’t believe in Christmas, then, surely, there was nothing to believe in. But if wishes were real, then why had hers gone so terribly amiss?

  Perhaps she had only herself to blame, Noel mused. Instead of asking for something like health or contentment, she had been selfish—and she had involved someone else. Had she really the right to decide Benedick’s fate for the benefit of her own?

  Wiping away a tear, Noel realized that she had no business taking over Benedick’s life. It was one thing to wish her own happiness, another to foist her hopes upon him. In her own defense, she thought that he needed her, but she could not be sure. She knew only that he wanted her.

  Noel’s lips curved into a shaky smile as she recalled that even tonight when he sent her away she had felt the pull between them and seen the fierce longing in his eyes before he shuttered them. His behavior had been so odd that she wondered if he knew somehow what she was planning and refused her, not because of a lack of desire, but because he guessed her game. And did not want to marry her.

  Ashamed of her scheming, Noel flushed. Perhaps Christmas wishes only went so far and hers h
ad butted up against Benedick’s implacable will. If so, who was she to try to overcome it? The question made her pause and reconsider her objectives.

  Finally Noel drew in a deep breath and made the most difficult decision of her life. Sitting there in the dark silence of the night, she resolved to take back her wish. She would enjoy what little time she had left but look for no miracle to extend her stay. And then, she would leave on Epiphany and not look back.

  And she would do so, knowing that her heart would remain here at Longstone forever with the knight she loved.

  The holiday celebrations were slowly coming to end, and although Benedick knew he ought to be grateful, he felt a stinging, wistful regret. Despite his initial misgivings, he had come to enjoy the so-called traditions of the season. He relished the twelve dishes at supper, even though they were becoming less elaborate, for he knew that all too soon the winter stores would dwindle in the long wait for spring.

  And afterward he waited along with the rest of the keep residents to see what new revelry Noel had planned for the evening. As he looked around the benches that lined the walls, Benedick realized that sometime since his return, he had begun to think of these men and women as his people, to take a certain pleasure in their smiles and their happiness. Having known no ties, except perhaps to his former squire, Benedick found it strange that old Hardwin, the servants and the others living here had begun to mean something to him.

  Especially Noel.

  Benedick watched her now as she brought out rolls of parchment. Considering that tomorrow was Epiphany, she seemed surprisingly serene, but he sensed that she was ever graceful and gracious, even in defeat. At least she was not pouring wine down his throat as she had the night before. He wondered if she had abandoned her plan to seduce him.

  Too bad.

  Heat flooded his loins at the thought, and Benedick shifted in his seat, frowning. He told himself that he was glad that Noel’s stay was nearly ended, that he would be well rid of her and that her departure was what he wanted. But it wasn’t true, and he knew it.