If she wasn't so miserable and worried, she might have enjoyed getting to know mortal Sebastian more. She suffered through waves of fresh anxiety until early evening, when she roused herself to dress for another night of revelry. There was no way she would miss the opportunity to see Sebastian, and claimed partial recovery to Katherine when she caught up to the rest of the entourage already en route to the hall. It seemed that was where most of the intrigue took place, where nobles and ladies flirted and shared clandestine kisses in the shadowy alcoves. Hovering near the back of the group with Katherine, dressed in a deep green and cream gown that hugged her in all the right places, she sought out Sebastian. He stood with several other dignitaries not far from the King and Queen's dais.
He saw her, and they traded smiles.
She hovered close while Henry and Anne settled in their thrones, an ordeal in itself with all the pomp and ceremony. Before she could leave once the queen was set, a noble approached her for a dance. Caught out, unsure what to do, she found herself twirled onto the floor with the other dancers. Unfortunately for the man, whose name she never got, Laurel made a blatant show of giving Sebastian her attention through the turns and spins.
She saved her long looks, her intimate smiles, for the Duke of Darkthorne. At the end of the song, her partner bowed out of the running, literally and figuratively, leaving her open to dance with Sebastian. It caused more whispers among the courtiers and ladies who watched on the sidelines.
With a bold grin, he claimed her and, with heat in his eyes, guided her through the steps and turns. He was an excellent lead; she figured out the pattern quickly and even managed to perform it with a bit of confidence after a minute or two.
The theme of this particular dance was the men 'chasing' the women, and three sly steps put Laurel out of line, making it so that it seemed one of the noblemen was chasing another nobleman instead of his lady. Her trick garnered a rush of laughter from the courtiers and Sebastian reclaimed her with a strong arm banded around her small waist, blue eyes gleaming. They finished out the dance facing each other and he bowed while she curtsied, never breaking eye contact. He offered her his elbow.
"Very well done, my lady. Wine?"
"Thank you, yes. You are very adept at the chase," she said, her tease thick with innuendo. "I thought you had me several times."
"You are exceedingly tempting prey," he said, giving her a meaningful look. Her innuendo had not escaped him. He obtained two goblets, one of which he handed off to her.
Laurel accepted the cup. "What is it you find so tempting, your Grace?"
"I fear to list the ways in which you move me, lest we be standing here till morning," he said, and drank.
She laughed. "Should I list the ways you move me, then?"
With an intrigued arch of his brow, he inclined his head.
Laurel stepped closer, daring to put her mouth close to his ear. "The way you turned to me at the joust and nodded, moved me. How you carry me so close and protective against your chest, your concern and the way you see to my safety. It moves me," she whispered. "It is not an exhaustive list, but I too could go on until morning." Smiling, she leaned back to see his reaction.
Sebastian, a hot look in his eyes, seemed ready to steal her off to an alcove and have his way with her. His body was tense and a muscle flexed in his jaw. Before he could even reply, much less act, she interrupted.
"How does the evening find you otherwise?"
"Promising," he said, a rough edge to his voice. "And your evening, my lady?"
"I find myself with many needs."
"Many needs?" he asked.
"Shall I list them?" she said, with a gleam in her eyes.
He laughed. "Indeed, yes."
"I find the need to have another dance with you, to perhaps coax you into a walk tomorrow through the gardens, and I especially have a need for long, slow kisses under the moonlight." The last 'need' was said with a melodramatic flair, one hand covering her heart. She found it so easy to banter with him, drawn to his charm and his chivalry.
Drawn to him, in any era, under any circumstance.
Sebastian's smile was all teeth. "Can you find your way to the maze in the darkness, my lady? I think I can see to one of those needs before the night ends."
"I can." There was a thrill in flirting with him this way, riling his desire and his possessiveness. Laurel detected all that and more in his posture and his eyes.
"Leave the hall before me so we do not draw attention by departing together, my lady," he said. "And I will meet you."
Even now Sebastian tried to protect her reputation from wagging tongues. Laurel smiled at his thoughtfulness and set down her cup. Dipping him a deep curtsy, she stepped past, pausing near Katherine on her way to plead a headache and bed rest. Gathering her skirts, Laurel made her way through the corridors, getting lost twice before finding her way out through the kitchens.
She walked across the lawns under a starry sky, the weather clear and mild. When she approached the maze, she stopped to listen for others and search the shadows of the bushes for shapes that didn't belong. Finding nothing out of place, she waited near the entrance.
Laurel watched as he loomed out of the darkness a moment later, determined strides carrying him toward her. Sebastian didn't smile or even seem like he might acknowledge her as he started to step past for the maze. A strong arm snaked out to snare her around the waist at the last second and he pulled her into the seclusion of the hedges. He tipped her back over his arm and gazed intently down over her face.
She pulled in a small breath of surprise. Her loose, pale hair fell in waves toward the grass, one arm wrapped around his neck.
He lowered his head, maintaining eye contact until his mouth covered hers. A ripple of heat unfurled through her limbs at the contact and she opened under him, inviting him to explore her. They had kissed so many times in the future, but this seemed new--different.
This Sebastian was bolder, more brazen.
He plundered her mouth with expert skill and she drug her fingers through his hair. The secretive nature of it all was unusual and intriguing, something she hadn't quite experienced at this level in modern America.
Sebastian groaned, holding her tight. He took the kiss deeper, nipping at her bottom lip, breath warm against her skin. Straightening her, he wound his fingers in her hair, breaking the kiss to say, "Is that the need on which you spoke, my lady?"
She didn't withdraw her arm from around his shoulders, and he didn't seem to want her to. He kept her close with an arm low around her hips.
"Yes," she said, basking in the smaller kisses he laid on her cheeks, at the corner of her mouth. Hope surged in the wake of his affection. He was becoming attached, starting to trust her. Soon, very soon, she would be able to lure him through the doorway.
Voices outside the maze broke the spell; Sebastian tensed, alert, and glanced at the greenery like he might see past it to the men who approached. He drew her down into a crouch, even though the hedges were high enough to hide them.
"…interest has shifted. It is my charge to find a reason to dissolve…" A voice drifted in, the words broken up and hard to hear.
"I should not be sorry to see that bitch set aside," another said.
"Start making inquiries. Discreetly, of course," the first voice said.
"Yes. Five or six should do…" The words faded as the men walked further from the maze instead of closer to it.
Sebastian's mouth was a tight line of displeasure.
Laurel thought she knew exactly what was being plotted and planned. The very events that would lead to Sebastian's torture and death. A cold splash of water couldn't have sobered her faster, and she rose when Sebastian bade her.
"Cromwell," he said with a dark look. "Come my lady, we do not want to linger here."
Laurel, full of questions she already had the answers to, nodded and allowed him to escort her from the maze. Should they be discovered, having overheard the men, the outcome would not be plea
sant.
"Laurel. Laurel! Get up, we will be late!"
Katherine's insistent voice woke Laurel from a deep sleep. She hadn't gotten to bed until the wee hours after Sebastian had escorted her home from the maze, her mind busy and fretful after hearing Cromwell making his plans. She worried over time schedules and the semantics of magic that had gotten them into trouble in the first place.
She swung her feet to the floor with an incoherent mumble. Katherine chattered while she scrubbed herself clean with a cloth and drew a wine colored dress over her head. What she wouldn't give for a hot bath, a normal bed, and a cup of steaming coffee.
Tying her hair back with a ribbon, she followed Katherine through the great hall, noticing it was rather empty for this time of day. They exited onto the grounds which looked as deserted as the hall had. She'd expected to be taken to the queen's chambers to press wrinkles or clean this or dust that. Instead, Katherine hurried them toward a waiting wagon and prodded her up into the seat. It took some finagling because of the skirts, but finally Laurel was settled. Katherine climbed up beside her, jovial and robust.
"Where are we going?" Laurel asked, squinting into the day. Her eyes took longer to adjust from the gloom of their room.
"To see Lord Belhaven, of course!" Katherine said.
Laurel scoured her memory for the name or the face, and came up empty. Distracted with thoughts of departing medieval England, she endured the ride through the countryside, catching glimpses of water through the trees. Another wagon or two rolled along the same road, the drivers slapping the reins over the horses back to hurry the pace. Just when Laurel didn't think she could stand another jostle or bump, the wagon approached a walled structure where many other carriages and wagons were parked. The driver pulled in at a haphazard angle and Katherine tugged at her sleeve.
“Hurry now!”
Laurel climbed down and let Katherine lead her toward the building. People wandered in through the tall, square archways, fanning out over a length of green grass that was bare of any kind of plant or tree life. There didn't seem to be any particular hierarchy here, Laurel noticed. Noblemen mingled with peasants, a strange sight after seeing firsthand the separation of classes around the castle. The large venue overflowed with bodies and Laurel frowned, trying to figure out why they were all here.
Katherine led her through the throng with the help of a well placed elbow or two toward a platform at one end, making a spot for them somewhere near the front.
"Isn't it exciting, lady Mayfield?" Katherine said.
Laurel thought perhaps it was a show or a reading of some kind, or maybe a play. Weren't those popular in this time?
Several men in long clerical looking robes ascended the back steps and took their places to the side. They wore grim expressions that made Laurel uneasy. Another two men joined them, plodding up the wooden stairs; one was enormous with thick biceps, leather straps tight around his flesh. He carried an ax slung against his broad shoulder and his head was covered with a black mask. The other plopped down a heavy wooden block closer to the end of the platform.
Laurel covered her lips with her fingers-- surely Katherine hadn't brought her to see an execution. She tried to take a step back but the crowd surged forward when several knights led a man in through a separate archway, blocking her in. A cheer went up all around her along with several snide remarks aimed at Lord Belhaven. He was a young man, perhaps in his early thirties, with a thatch of dark hair and dark eyes. His clothing was askew, the shirt ripped and dirty in several places.
With a rakish grin, Belhaven bowed to the jeering crowd.
"Have you anything to say, Lord Belhaven?" One of the robed men asked, while another started reading passages in Latin from a book in his hands.
"Smite him where he stands!" Someone shouted from the back.
"Traitor! Take his head!"
"A crowd hungry for blood," Belhaven said with a jovial laugh. "It matters not whether the accused is innocent or guilty, the result will be the same. Remember, dear friends-- if it can happen to me, it can happen to you."
Laurel, white as a sheet, pressed against the wall of humanity at her back. No one budged.
A ripple of sneers and jibes went through the gathered before Belhaven went to his knees and stretched his head over the block, making a good target of his neck.
Frantic to get away yet unable to stop looking, she saw the executioner step forward and position the blade. He lifted it suddenly and swung it down in a hard, sharp arc.
Laurel screamed and looked away as a wet, telltale thump echoed over the noise of the crowd. She felt something like raindrops spatter against her cheek and she thought for the first time in her life that she might faint.
There were no clouds in the sky.
It must be blood. Belhaven's blood.
She pushed at bodies and caught a glimpse of Katherine's startled face. The lady in waiting looked shocked that Laurel had such a bad reaction to the beheading. Visions of Sebastian going through the same scene made bile clog the back of her throat. The carnival atmosphere made her sick and she wanted to shout at the entire crowd.
"Make way," a voice growled somewhere behind her. Sebastian, parting the crowd with his glare and his vehemence, scooped Laurel up in his arms. The onlookers parted like the red sea for Moses when he stalked through with her and Laurel had never been so relieved or so horrified.
She considered herself made of sterner stuff than that, but this was too much. Clinging to Sebastian, she fought off waves of dizziness while he carried her out of the venue toward a waiting carriage. One of his men swung open the door and he stepped up inside with her in his arms. Settling her across his lap, he called for the driver to go. The carriage lurched into motion and set off at a brisk clip for the castle.
With urgent swipes, she smeared the long sleeve of her gown against her cheek, desperate to get the wet drops off.
"Oh god, Sebastian, I can't watch that happen again," she said, throat thick with unshed tears. She couldn't, wouldn't, let go of his doublet.
"There is no need to see it again. Why, my lady, did you go if you knew what the outcome would be?" he asked. There was no censure in his question, only curiosity.
"I didn't know," she said, forgetting to watch her words. "Katherine didn't tell me it was an ex…execution. We have to get away from here." Laurel pleaded with him, the layers of the dress draped over her legs and his thighs.
He glanced around a moment and back down to her face. "We are quite alone, my lady. Did you know him?"
Laurel realized he misunderstood her and tried to get a hold of herself. It would do her no good to alienate him now. He hovered over her, a protective arm around her back.
"No, I have no idea who he is--was. Barnaby or something. Why did Katherine think I would want to see such a thing? Everyone else seemed to enjoy themselves. Heathens," she said with disgust.
"Belhaven," he said, correcting her. "Many people attend executions all the time, my lady. I was there to provide support. I knew him."
All Laurel could think about was Sebastian's impending torture. This dallying around trying to work her way into his trust and good graces took a toll on her, wreaking havoc with her nerves. The carriage came to a stop and the man opened the door once more. Sebastian gathered her up and departed the vehicle, striding across the lawns for a cherry tree. He set her with care on the grass in the shade and sat with his knees drawn up, regarding her with open speculation.
Laurel was glad to see that they were isolated out here and settled on her hip, knees bent. She sought his eyes, struggling to contain her upset. "I'm sorry he had to die that…way."
"Shh," he soothed. "He is in a better place, some would say, though at just this moment I might disagree with them."
Laurel smiled at his remark, albeit shaky, understanding he likened his time with her to heaven on earth. It pleased her and at the same time, threatened her fragile composure. She set a trembling hand on his arm, sober and serious.
"Sebastian, if I asked to blindfold you and lead you somewhere, would you go without question? Would you trust me enough to simply follow in good faith?" she asked.
He studied her for some long minutes in silence. Searching her eyes, he seemed to come to a conclusion and nodded. "Yes, I trust you to lead me, my lady."
A surge of hope raced through her. The second she could get him alone inside the castle, they were going home.
"I am so thankful," she said, a hand over her heart.
"When will this little game be taking place?" he asked, picking up a cherry blossom from the grass.
"Later this evening, after the gathering in the great hall?" She thought that would be the first prime opportunity. Her gaze fell to the cherry blossom he toyed with. "May I have that, please?" Enamored by how frail it looked in his strong hands, she wanted it as a keepsake from their time here.
With a perplexed expression, he handed the blossom over. "This evening, then," he agreed.
Laurel accepted the bloom and cupped it in her palm. "Thank you. It's too bad that I won't be able to see you use your sword again. You were quite skilled on the field."
He frowned. "Will you be leaving court, my lady?"
She realized her slip too late. "…Oh, yes. Eventually, I will have to return home for a visit," she said, and turned the topic back to swordplay. "I think I would have enjoyed a few lessons in sparring from you, even if I could never best you in play."
Thoughtful, Sebastian inclined his head. "Perhaps I may provide escort for your retinue when you travel." A seductive smile cut across his mouth. "Women were built to best men in other ways. A woman who knows how can make a man weaker than any lance or sword."
"Have I ever made you weak, your Grace?" she asked, and watched the heat climb in his eyes.
"Every time I look at you, my lady," he said with solemn honesty.
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