Alex strolled through the hall toward the fire. The smell of pine and spices filled the air. He stopped under a beam, noticing the girl called Lady Regina smiling at him.
“Hello,” he said. “I am Alex.”
“I am Regina,” said the girl shyly. Then Claire walked up with a goblet of mead in her hand.
“You are standing under the mistletoe,” Claire told him.
Alex looked up to see the ball of greenery with red and white berries swinging from a ribbon over his head. “So, I am,” he said. “It’s stunning.”
“You’re supposed to kiss a girl if you’re standing under the mistletoe,” said Claire. “Go on, Regina, kiss him.” Claire pushed her stepsister toward Alex.
“Nay, I think he should kiss you, Claire,” protested Regina. “After all, you are the one who noticed the mistletoe over his head.”
Alex froze. He couldn’t kiss Regina because she might actually be his half-sister. And he couldn’t kiss Claire either, because she might be his half-sister as well. To walk away and deny them would be rude, and he couldn’t do that either. He saw Lady Charlotte approaching from his side vision, and turned and pulled her into his arms and kissed her instead.
Charlotte walked up to ask Alex to join them at the dais, and the next thing she knew he pulled her into his arms and pressed his mouth against hers in a sensuous kiss. Surprised and shocked, she stood there looking at him with her mouth open.
“You kissed her?” asked Claire in shock. “Well, you’re not a nobleman, so it’s no loss to us. Come on, Regina, let’s go find someone else to kiss.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Alex apologized to Charlotte as soon as the other girls walked away.
“Sorry?” She blinked, trying to figure out why he was apologizing. “Didn’t you mean to kiss me?” The taste of his lips still lingered on her mouth. She had enjoyed the gesture and hoped it had been intentional.
“It’s not like that. I enjoyed the kiss. What I meant was that I couldn’t kiss Regina or Claire and that’s why I pulled you over.”
Her feeling of excitement turned to one of despair. “So, I was just an afterthought?”
“Nay, not at all.”
“Then why couldn’t you kiss them? Do you have certain standards, or are you just frightened of pretty girls?”
“I am not frightened by pretty girls. After all, I kissed you, didn’t I?”
Charlotte perused him, feeling happy that he thought she was pretty. But still, she didn’t understand this man at all. He seemed simple at times and at other times he almost reminded her of a noble. Alexander Masterson was unique. That is what she liked about him.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get some of that spiced mead and warm myself at the fire,” he told her.
“Of course,” she said, going back to the dais but keeping her eyes on him at all times.
When the meal was finished, Alex felt much better. With a full stomach of whiting, rabbit stew, and after his first time having swan, he started to feel sleepy. His leg ached from being on his feet so much today, and all he wanted was some shut-eye and peace of mind.
The musicians in the gallery started playing festive music on their lutes, harps, and even the hurdy-gurdy. The crowd, excited to dance, got up so the servants could clear away the trestle tables and make more room for the activities.
Alex didn’t dance, and neither did he want to stay here and watch. It made him feel different from everyone else. He reached down and rubbed his leg, feeling the muscles starting to twitch. He had to lie down. Not wanting to be noticed, he slipped out of the great hall and headed toward the stable to find some soft hay to use as his bed.
Once out in the courtyard, he stopped and surveyed the lit torches and hanging lanterns that gave an orange glow to the night sky. Garland made from winter greens was strung together and fastened from the mews all the way over to the stables and even over to the blacksmith’s shop. Snow silently fell from the sky, covering the courtyard in a blanket of pure white. His surroundings were so peaceful, but there was chaos in his mind.
As Alex trudged through the snow toward the stable, he pulled his cloak closer to hold in the warmth. Then, something caught his attention. There was a candle burning in the garden right next to a small graveyard. He ventured over, seeing the light beckoning him to follow it. Snow crunched beneath his feet as he approached the garden, noticing the bramble of dormant rose bushes. And then his eyes dropped to the wooden cross. Hanging off of it was a burning candle in a jar. The flame danced, almost mocking him since he could not do that. Below the cross was a board that had something written on it. He hesitantly reached out to brush away the snow. There, engraved upon the wood was a name. It read Peter Mowbray.
He jumped back, startled to see this name – possibly his name – on the board. When he moved, he knocked into something, and his bad leg gave way beneath him. Reaching out to steady himself, he realized he grabbed on to a person standing behind him.
“Charlotte!” he exclaimed, both his hands gripping her shoulders. Her body pressed up against his. Embarrassed by his action, he released her and stepped away. With him went her warmth and the essence of rosewater from her hair.
She was a beautiful woman. When he’d kissed her earlier, he’d been too lost in his thoughts to even notice the way her blue eyes lit up when she was around him or the way her lips curved in a half-smile like a little bow. In the light of the torches lining the path to the garden, her long, dark braid that hung over one shoulder glittered with the snowflakes landing upon it.
“Alexander, what are you doing out here?” Her voice was soft and light like the song of a fragile bird. But this woman wasn’t frail. He could tell that. She held the confidence of a queen and kept her spine erect, and her chin raised slightly. As he drank in her elegance, he realized she was out in the elements without a covering.
“Where is your cloak?” he asked, reaching out and brushing snow from her hair. He noticed the way her eyes closed slightly when he touched her. Her chest raised and dropped as she breathed heavier.
“I saw you leaving and rushed out here, not taking the time to gather my cloak.”
“Then you shall have mine to keep you warm.” He started to remove his cloak, but her hand shot out and stopped him.
“Nay. I felt your hand earlier and know how cold you must be. I couldn’t take your cloak from you.”
“Then we’ll share it,” he said, lifting his arm, inviting her in.
Her lips turned up into a slight smile. She stepped forward to be enclosed by his cape as well. Having her body pressed up against him was his undoing. He bent over slightly, rubbing his cheek against her soft hair. It felt good, and he liked it. Then he realized that one kiss from Lady Charlotte Ashworth was not going to be enough. He had to kiss her again.
She looked up at him just as he had this thought. Their faces were so close that he could see the tiny snowflakes landing on her lashes. He reached out and touched her cold cheek brushing away a snowflake with his thumb. “Are you warmer now?” he asked her.
“I am. Thank you.” Her gaze fell to his mouth. Lifting her chin with his hand, he waited a second. When she didn’t pull away, he took that as his signal to kiss her once again. The touch of her lips against his felt like fire, warming him down to his toes.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I felt that if I didn’t kiss your sweet lips again, I would go to my grave wishing I had experienced it just once more.”
“Grave,” she repeated, looking down at the grave and making Alex wish he had chosen his words more carefully. “Why are you here at the gravesite of Lady Summer’s stillborn?”
How could he answer? His was a secret that if proven to be true would change the lives of many people. It might be something he had to take to his grave after all. “I saw the candle burning through the snow and wondered what it was, that’s all.”
“I hear Lady Summer has not missed a day of paying respect to her son. In the summer, she brings flowers
. And in the winter, she lights candles, praying for the newborn’s soul to go to heaven since he never had a chance to live.”
Alex’s eyes swept over to the grave. He found himself wondering if there really was a baby buried there. Hadn’t his father told him to dig up the grave if he didn’t believe him? If so, would he find bones or just an empty wooden box? Alex shook his head, willing the ill thought to leave. Surely, his soul would go straight to hell for even having such an idea as digging up the corpse of an innocent child.
“I’ll walk you back to the keep, and then I am going to find a spot in the hay and sleep in the stable tonight,” he told Charlotte.
“Nay, don’t do that. It is much too cold. Come dance with me instead, and sleep by the fire in the great hall.”
“I don’t dance,” he explained.
“Why not?”
From the corner of his eye, Alex saw Lord Dreyfis approaching.
“He’s lame,” said Dreyfis. “Of course, he can’t dance. But I have two good legs. I’ll dance with you, my lady.” He stepped up and took Charlotte’s arm, pulling her out from under Alex’s cloak. Charlotte looked back to Alex with wide, frantic eyes.
It was Christmas, and as much as Alex wanted to draw his sword and strike Sir Dreyfis for taking Charlotte away from him, he decided not to cause trouble. He didn’t want to fight after Lady Summer welcomed him to her castle with open arms. Nay, it wouldn’t be a way to show his gratitude or respect.
“He’s right, I can’t dance because of my leg,” Alex admitted. “Go on, and enjoy yourself, Charlotte. I am sure Sir Dreyfis will make a better companion tonight during the dance and festivities than I will.”
“But – I want to be with you, Alex,” she said.
“You heard the man,” sneered Dreyfis. “You can’t enjoy yourself with a cripple. Now come along, and we’ll share some wine and laughs after the dance.”
Dreyfis held on to Lady Charlotte’s arm as he hurriedly made his way back to the keep. Charlotte looked over her shoulder with sad eyes, almost begging him to intervene.
Alex reached down to rub his aching limb. His heart sank in his chest. Why had he let them walk away so easily? He liked being with Lady Charlotte. If he weren’t in such pain, he wouldn’t have insisted she dance with Sir Dreyfis.
Alex hurriedly limped over to the stable, finding his horse and entering the stall. Anger welled up within him. He wasn’t a coward, but now Charlotte would think he was. He punched the side wall of the stable with his fist, scaring a few of the horses. Then he laid down in the hay pulling his cloak around him and closing his eyes. As he drifted off to sleep, the essence of Lady Charlotte Ashworth on his cloak filled his senses. All he had now were his dreams.
Chapter 6
“Girls, you’d better hurry and finish dressing or you will be late for Christmas mass,” said Summer, standing at the door, having just entered the room with Lady Ann, Charlotte’s mother.
Charlotte had awoken and dressed earlier, but Regina and Claire were moving slowly. Their handmaids attended to their needs.
“Charlotte,” snapped her mother. “I heard you were rude to Sir Dreyfis last night and even refused to dance with him. How are you ever going to find a husband with that attitude?”
Charlotte stared out the open window, straightening up when she spied Alex walking out of the stable, holding the reins of his horse. It looked as if he were leaving.
“Charlotte, did you hear me?” asked her mother. “Why didn’t you dance with him? What is the matter with you? Do you want to end up back in the convent for the rest of your life?”
“She’s smitten with Alex,” said Claire, holding her hands over her head as her handmaid pulled her gown into place.
“Alex? That nice young man we met on the road?” asked Summer.
“He’s the cripple, isn’t he?” said Ann. “He is not an able-bodied man and certainly not an option of someone to marry. He could never protect a wife.”
“Mother, do not refer to him in that way again,” snapped Charlotte. “He is more of a man than Sir Dreyfis will ever be. Alex is kind, handsome, and thoughtful. Do you know last night in the garden he even shared his cloak with me to keep me warm?”
“The garden?” asked Summer. “What was he doing there?”
“Never mind that,” snorted Charlotte’s mother. “What were you doing so close to him in the dark?”
“She kissed him, too,” Claire blurted out.
“She did,” agreed Regina. “I like him. He is nice.”
“I suppose he is,” said Claire. “But as Lady Ann said, he is not even to be considered as a prospect for a husband.”
“Why not, Claire?” asked Summer. “Are you being haughty again?”
“Nay, Mother,” said Claire as the handmaid ran a brush through her hair. It caught on a snaggle and Claire cried out. “Ow! I’ll do that.” She dismissed the handmaids, and they left the room. “I am not being haughty, Mother. I see what Lady Charlotte means about Sir Dreyfis. He is a wretched cur.”
“He is also very cruel to Alex,” added Regina with a nod.
“Claire, I think you’ve been unkind and unfair to Alex as well,” said Summer.
“I suppose I might have,” said Claire. “The longer he is here, the more I am starting to like him.”
“You’d marry a commoner?” gasped Lady Ann.
Claire laughed. “Nay, and I would never marry Alex.”
“Why would you say that?” asked Charlotte. “Is it because of his leg? Because I don’t mind at all.”
“It’s not that,” said Claire, looking over to Regina. “It’s just that we don’t think of him as the marrying type, do we, Regina?”
Regina shrugged her shoulders. “Alexander is a fine man but, to me, he seems more like a brother than he does a husband.”
“Aye, that’s it,” agreed Claire. “Speaking of brothers, where is Dominick? He said he was going to escort us to mass.”
“Here I am,” said their brother, Dominick, holding the hand of his five-year-old son, Robert. “I heard every word you girls said about Alex. I would have been here sooner, but Robert was playing with the hound.”
“Where is Alex now?” asked Summer curiously.
Charlotte’s attention was back out the window. “He slept in the stable last night. I see him crossing over the drawbridge now. I believe he’s leaving.”
“He is?” Summer ran to the window and looked out. “He didn’t even say goodbye.”
“I’ve grown very fond of him. I don’t want him to leave,” said Charlotte.
“Neither do I,” agreed Summer. “Dominick, hurry out to the courtyard and stop Alex from leaving.”
“What?” Dominick shook his blond head. “Let him go, Mother. Mass is starting, and we need to hurry.”
“I want to see Alex,” said Robert, running to the window and standing on his tiptoes to see out. Summer held him so he wouldn’t fall. “He walks funny,” said the little boy.
“That’s because he has a bad leg,” said Charlotte.
“Why?” asked Robert.
“I think it was that way from birth,” Charlotte explained.
“From birth,” whispered Summer staring out the window. Then she grabbed Robert by the hand and spun around. “Dominick, I’ll watch Robert, now hurry and stop Alex from leaving. Tell him to meet us in the chapel and that afterward we have a special feast and games planned for the celebration. Tell him I insist he joins us.”
“But is this really necessary?” asked Dominick. “After all, he is just a commoner. We don’t even know him.”
“Nay,” said Summer, shaking her head. “I feel as if I do know him.”
“How could you?” asked Lady Ann. “He just arrived here yesterday.”
“He is the son of a dear old friend of mine, and I will not let him leave and be traveling in the cold on Christmas. Now go, and don’t tarry or he will be gone.”
“Aye, Mother.”
“Come on, Robert, you can be my e
scort,” said Claire, holding the little boy’s hand as they all left the room.
“Lady Summer,” said Charlotte, stopping her before she left.
“What is it?” asked Summer, turning back to Charlotte.
“I wanted to tell you the reason we were in the garden since you asked. I found Alex out there last night standing at the gravesite of your son, Peter.”
“You did?” This seemed to interest Summer very much.
“I also noticed the way he watched you yesterday when you went to pay your respects. He asked to go see the grave, but we never got there.”
“Why would he ask to see Peter’s grave?”
“I don’t know,” said Charlotte. “Mayhap he felt some need to do it because he heard that your son had a bad leg as well.”
“Perhaps,” said Summer in deep thought. “Or mayhap it is more than that.”
“What do you mean?” asked Charlotte.
“I’m just thinking aloud.” Summer looked up and smiled. “Shall we go to mass before we miss it altogether? My husband is waiting for me down in the great hall and will not be happy if I take any longer.” She turned to go, but Charlotte stopped her once again.
“Lady Summer, do you think it is wrong of me to have feelings for Alex?”
“You do?” she asked in surprise.
“I feel as both of us have so much in common with being rejected by others. I also really like him. I can see myself being married to him, but I know my mother will never allow it. He’s not even a noble.”
“I think that if you and Alex feel the same way about each other, then status shouldn’t matter. I was once married to a man I didn’t love and who treated me terribly. I was miserable. But then I met Warren. I didn’t want to like him since he was my late husband’s nephew, but I fell in love. Now, I am happier than I’ve ever been in my life and it keeps getting better every day. Love is all that matters. Does he feel the same way about you that you do about him?”
“I – I’m not sure,” said Charlotte. She glanced back out the window to see Dominick atop a horse following Alex over the drawbridge. “I don’t know, but I need to find out.”
Silent Knight: Second in Command Series - Alexander Page 4