A Nordic Knight in Henry's Court: Jakob & Avery: Book 1 (The Hansen Series - Jakob & Avery)

by Kris Tualla

  He leaned over and murmured in her ear. “You are the second most beautiful woman in the room tonight, Lady Avery.”

  She felt herself blush. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Henry’s head swiveled until he faced the queen several feet away. “Catherine takes my very breath away.”

  “She is quite lovely, there is no denying that.”

  Henry stood still for a moment, his lips pressed in a thin line. Then he abruptly walked away before Avery could enquire about the Nordic knight’s health.

  She considered asking Percival. That man was easy to spot, dressed as Bacchus and carrying a large flagon of wine—which he generously shared with anyone who wished him to.

  The masquerade truly matched the man.

  No, asking Bethington about Jakob might spark some sort of rivalry between her new friend and her relentless pursuer. Better to find a way to discover the information for herself.

  She turned around again—and faced Henry. Again. “Your Grace? Did you wish something of me?”

  He smiled softly and wagged his head, no. Then he made a gesture which indicated her entire frame. He clasped his hands over his heart, and bowed his head in reverence.

  Avery curtsied to hide her confusion. “Thank you, my lord.”

  When she straightened, he took her hand, kissed it, spun on his heel, and walked away. Again.

  Avery watched the king’s back as he wove his way through a crowd that parted before him, totally befuddled by his actions. A goblet of wine appeared from her right side.

  “I believe my husband approves of your costume.” Catherine grinned and held the goblet closer. “Go on, take it. You look far too somber for such a beautiful and festive occasion.”

  Avery accepted the cup and took a steadying swallow of the delicious beverage. “Have you seen Sir Hansen this eventide?”

  Catherine’s lips pursed beneath her veil. “As I think of it, no. I have not.”

  Avery sighed. “I do hope he is not unwell.”

  “Would you like me to send an enquiry to his chambers?” Catherine offered.

  Avery was about to say it was not important, when she realized that the rest of her eventide would be spent wondering about the man if she had no word of his condition.

  “Would you please do so?” she replied. “That would certainly ease my mind.”

  Catherine’s smile returned. “I shall do so straight away.”

  *****

  Jakob had not sought out Avery, and was surprised when he nearly collided with her. He believed he had acted just as Henry would—if Henry was mute.

  Now he stood far away and considered her from a distance. She was stunning.

  Hestia. The virgin goddess.

  A very appropriate choice for a woman who spurns all sexual encounters. Avery was clearly declaring her status to any who might doubt it.

  I wonder if Bethington understands the significance?

  Jakob saw his knightly partner, happily pouring wine, and surrounded by several young ladies. He doubted the man cared about Avery’s costume; his pursuit of the lady seemed more about the challenge, and less about true love or devotion. He returned his regard to the Spanish beauty.

  Avery’s nearly-black eyes moved over the crowd. Their corners pinched when she smiled, though she didn’t smile often. Something appeared to weigh on her mind.

  With a start, Jakob wondered if it was him.

  He wasn’t at the ball, as far as she—or anyone—could tell. The natural assumption would be that, after the long day spent in the saddle on the journey from London, his leg pained him and he decided to forgo the festivities.

  At least, that was the story Askel was to tell if anyone enquired about him.

  The notion that it was possible that Lady Avery actually missed him flooded Jakob’s frame with a tingling warmth that had nothing to do with the summer’s longest evening. He set down his wine glass and left the ballroom, grinning like a lunatic.

  *****

  Henry stepped onto a platform at one end of the ballroom. His deep booming voice carried easily over the happily wined and dined crowd of masked and costumed guests, even to the back of the room where Avery stood.

  “Welcome to our Solstice Masquerade. My queen and I are extremely pleased to observe you all enjoying yourselves so heartily.”

  Henry held out a hand, and a smiling Catherine stepped to his side. “My beloved queen, I shall now perform a new song which I composed in your honor.”

  Musicians began a lilting tune, and Henry’s melodic baritone matched his words to the rhythm.

  Who that will for grace pursue,

  His intent must needs be true,

  And love her in heart and deed,

  Else it were pity that he should speed.

  Many one say that love is ill,

  But those be they which have no skill.

  Or else because they may not obtain,

  They would that others should it disdain.

  But love is a thing given by God,

  In that therefore can be none odd;

  But perfect indeed and between two,

  Wherefore then should we it eschew?

  When the music ended, Henry’s guests rewarded their king with loud cheers and clapping hands. Henry kissed the back of his blushing wife’s hand and steadied her as she stepped down from the platform. Catherine’s contented radiance seemed to make all the candles in the ballroom’s chandeliers glow brighter.

  Avery cheered and clapped with the rest of the crowd, though her mood was considerably dimmed by the message from Jakob’s chamber. The knight was indeed abed, felled once again by the burning beam from his past.

  She wished there was something she could do to give the Norseman aid. The constant reminder of his loss was a difficult burden to bear and—in spite of his words to her the day before, claiming he finally felt peace—he could never forget the events of that tragic week.

  She knew that memories of her own past always lurked beneath the surface of her days. So many times, when she thought her situation would finally leave her alone, something would occur, and she was plunged once more under those unforgiving waters.

  Avery turned around of a sudden, deciding to make certain that Jakob had been served a light supper in his chambers—and send food up to him if he had not. But when she looked toward the open doors, her motion stopped and her intent vanished.

  King Henry stood in the hallway, a few yards from the opening. Only he wasn’t in the hallway, he was on the platform. She heard his voice behind her. She swiveled her head in that direction to be certain she wasn’t losing her mind.

  And then, slowly, she looked back toward the mystical figure, unsure as to whether it was ever there to begin with.

  It was.

  Avery stared at the apparition, not understanding what she saw. It raised a finger to its lips, urging her silence.

  Her hands began to shake. Blood rushed in her ears, drowning out Henry’s song. She wanted to walk forward, but didn’t trust her weakening knees to hold her.

  Then the ghost raised his hands and carefully lifted his mask.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jakob settled the mask back in place before hurrying away from the ballroom. He would take refuge in his chambers for the rest of the night, and have a late supper in its anonymous safety. On this night he had spent enough time in Henry’s shoes to last a lifetime.

  It was unfortunate he must do it again. And again.

  And yet again.

  Considering the number of times he was approached at the ball this eventide by women who believed him to be their king, Jakob found himself actually commending Henry for his restraint in carrying on a singular affaire. The popular sovereign clearly had abundant opportunities to dally, and with a wide variety of eager women.

  While Jakob still held to the notion that adultery was not moral, he had to confess that, when faced with such strong temptations, the man did sin far less than he could.

  After a quick glan
ce around the empty hallway, Jakob opened the door to his chamber, stepped inside, and closed it securely.

  “Sir Hansen?” Askel’s tone revealed his uncertainty.

  “Yes, Askel. I am he.” Jakob pulled off his mask. “Will you help me undress?”

  “Yes, my lord.” Askel followed him into the bedroom. “And how was it being king?”

  Jakob groaned. “I have never had so many bold women try to seduce me in one night in all of my days.”

  “Bold, sir?” Askel removed Jakob’s cape. “How bold?”

  “More than one of them could tell you, with accuracy, the length of my cock.”

  Askel exhaled his surprise, his jaw falling slack and his eyes rounding.

  Jakob gripped the silk tunic and gave it a shake. “I assure you, this garment provided scant protection.”

  “Because they believed you to be the king?”

  Jakob chuckled. “Yes, must I assume so. Handsome though I might be in my own right.”

  Askel reddened. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m famished,” Jakob interrupted. He pulled the offending tunic over his head. “Will you fetch me a tray while I wash?”

  “Yes, my lord. Let me help you with the sandals first.”

  Jakob sat in a chair, legs straight in front of him, and watched Askel unwind the leather straps which crisscrossed his calves. “Did anyone enquire about me?”

  Askel kept his eyes on his task. “Yes. On behalf of the Lady Avery.”

  Jakob smiled. She was concerned about him after all. “Was there anyone else?”

  “No, my lord.” Askel pulled the sandals away and sat back on his heels. “I’ll go fetch your tray now.”

  While the valet was gone, Jakob washed and donned a shirt and loose hose. And, of course, he thought about Avery.

  He wondered about the wisdom of revealing his disguise to her, and yet in the moment in which he was found out, there was not much else he could do.

  The one time he encountered her by accident in the ballroom, he didn’t speak. Instead he gave her a silent compliment and a gentlemanly show of affection. And then he hurried away from her, lest she see through the masquerade and expose the game.

  He wondered now if she would mark the moment and realize it was him.

  Someone gave the outer door a brisk pounding. Jakob walked into the front chamber and opened it, assuming Askel’s hands to be occupied with his supper tray.

  Lady Avery had removed her veil, but was still otherwise costumed. Her expression was stern. “May I come in?”

  “You may, if you are not concerned about being alone with me.” Jakob stepped back to allow her to enter.

  Avery strode into the room, unsmiling. “At my age, and with my reputation, being closeted alone with you can only improve my status.”

  Jakob pressed back a grin and closed the door. “As you wish.”

  Avery whirled to face him. “I see that you are no longer impersonating the king.”

  “No.” Not at the moment.

  She crossed her arms over her bosom. “And whose idea was that little trick?”

  “Not mine, my lady. Be certain of that.” Jakob indicated a chair. “Would you care to sit?”

  Avery’s mouth worked as she considered the situation.

  “I have not yet supped. Askel is bringing a tray.” Jakob crossed to the proffered seat and stood behind it. “Shall I send him back for a second one?”

  “No, thank you.” Avery walked stiffly to the chair and sat. “I have already eaten.”

  Jakob walked around the chair and claimed the one closest to hers. “I apologize for my state of undress. I was not expecting a visitor.”

  Avery’s gaze flickered over him as if she only now realized how he was clothed. One corner of her mouth lifted in a wry smile.

  “And so the scandal deepens.”

  Jakob laughed. “You are welcome.”

  Avery chuckled at his jest, in spite of her chastising expression. “You are incorrigible.”

  “I do not know the word. But thank you.”

  Another knock on the door announced the arrival of Askel and the heavily laden supper tray. He quickly covered his surprise at discovering Lady Avery sitting with the barely decent knight, and hurried to set the tray on the low table in front of Jakob.

  Askel turned toward the lady and bowed. “Lady Avery. You want tray also?”

  “Thank you, the lady has already eaten, Askel,” Jakob said in Norsk.

  Avery gave the valet a warm smile. “Takk du.”

  “I will be in the next room if you require anything, my lord.” Askel bowed again and disappeared through the bedchamber door.

  Avery waved a hand toward the tray. “Please, eat your supper.”

  “Thank you.” Jakob scooted his chair closer. “Being king is hard work.”

  Her eyes widened. “That was you! The second time!”

  Jakob intuited her meaning. “Yes. I could not speak or the game ends.”

  “You gestured that you loved my costume.” She tilted her head a little. “And you kissed my hand.”

  Jakob swallowed his bite of bread and gravy. “You are the most beautiful woman at the ball this night.”

  A knowing smile softened Avery’s features. “Henry said I was the second most beautiful.”

  Jakob shrugged. “The king is wrong at times.”

  She laughed, clearly delighted at the compliment. “Now tell me why the ruse.”

  Jakob wagged his head while he chewed a chunk of venison. “Henry thought it would be a fun game to play. He comes in one door, I walk out the other.”

  “It seems to have been successful,” Avery admitted. “Even I was fooled.”

  Jakob shrugged. “Until I was not careful.”

  “True.” Avery leaned closer. “Did Henry ask you to tell him what people said to you?”

  Jakob nodded, his mouth full of food.

  Her eyes twinkled. “And?”

  Jakob sat back and threw up his hands. He spoke past the venison. “I am shocked.”

  Avery straightened. “Tell me.”

  Jakob wiped his mouth on a cloth. “I had no idea. Women are too bold. They try to bed him.”

  She winced. “How bold, exactly?”

  “They take my hand, and put it on them.” Jakob placed his palms on his chest. His face warmed as he considered how much detail to give her. “And they put their hands on me.”

  When his palms dropped to his lap, Avery gasped. “They actually tried to grip your, your…”

  Jakob leaned forward. “Not try. They succeed.”

  Avery’s shock slid into amusement. She put a hand to her mouth to cover her grin. “I should not laugh.”

  Jakob stabbed a small, round potato with his knife and held it up in front of him. “They did not get this far.”

  She laughed out loud at that. “Sir Hansen! Remember, I am a lady.”

  He set the potato back on the platter. “And I, Lady Avery, am very much a man.”

  Avery blushed, but her eyes twinkled. “So you are, sir.”

  Jakob cut another piece of meat. “I expect Henry to summon me on the morrow and I expect he will laugh as well. I think he knows, and did not intend to warn me.”

  “Henry does enjoy his games, it is true.” Avery laid a hand on Jakob’s knee. “I am so sorry that you were treated thusly.”

  Jakob shrugged one shoulder. “The women’s actions surprised me, is all.”

  “I must admit that I have witnessed some of that myself.” She heaved a suddenly sad sigh. “I feel badly for Catherine. It’s very difficult for her to know that this happens.”

  Jakob gave Avery what he hoped appeared to be an innocent expression. “Is he faithful to her?”

  Avery’s gaze fell to the side. “He had an affaire when Catherine was carrying the babe before Mary.”

  “She knows? And loses that baby?”

  “Yes.” Avery looked at him again, somber under the weight of her dearest friend’s losses
. “And while I cannot name any others, I have no faith that Henry is not still exploring other beds.”

  “The queen is with child now. If he does explore other beds, it is best that she does not know,” Jakob said carefully. “Do you think this as well?”

  Avery did not answer right away. She leaned back in her chair and rested her chin on the back of her hand. Her dark eyes met his.

  “I do not know.”

  Jakob frowned. “Do not know?”

  Avery held out one hand. “If I agree, then I am condoning the king’s infidelity, am I not?”

  She held out the other hand. “And if I disagree, I am claiming that Catherine should be informed, in spite of the unending heartache such knowledge would cause her.”

  Jakob set his utensils aside. “This is not an easy question.”

  “No, it is not.” Avery’s gaze intensified. “Do you know if Henry is carrying on an affaire?”

  Jakob huffed. “Why would he tell me? I am not in his court.”

  Avery’s lips pressed in a straight line.

  Jakob wiped his mouth before speaking again. “Perhaps you should ask Bethington.”

  Avery rolled her eyes. “My lord, wouldn’t that be an interesting conversation.”

  Jakob chuckled and pulled the discussion further from himself. “This night he had many ladies asking for his wine. Does he still pursue you?”

  “No.” Avery appeared surprised at her own observation. “Since you arrived, he has backed away and acted quite the gentleman.”

  “Perhaps he understands something.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And what would that be?”

  Jakob grinned at her. “The ice knight melts the Ice Maiden.”

  “Jakob…”

  He put up a hand to stop her. “I will not try to bed you. Please do not think that.” He laid that hand over his heart. “This I swear to you.”

  She looked confused. “Then what are you talking about?”

  “Friendship. For now.”

  “For now?”

  “Perhaps later, it will be love.” Jakob leaned forward. “I desire to win your heart.”

  Avery’s shoulders drooped, as did her expression. “Why?”

  Jakob blinked at her odd reaction. “Because…”