I kicked off the last of the blankets and pulled on the long robe that hung at the end of my bed. Just as I reached the door I changed my mind and darted back to check my hair in the mirror. It was a little tangled but I combed it out quickly with my fingers.
A little voice in the back of my mind told me I was being stupid, but I ignored it and went to answer the door.
Lancelot stood on the other side, looking a little uncomfortable, but he relaxed when he saw me, a smile appearing on his face. I didn’t smile back.
“You realise it’s very early in the morning, don’t you?”
He chuckled. “It isn’t. I’ve been up since before dawn.”
I leant against the doorframe. “Then you’re crazy. Did you come to wake me up for a reason?”
He looked a little uncomfortable again. “Have you plans for the day?”
That threw me and I frowned. “No…”
His face brightened. “Then I hope you might agree to letting me show you a little more of the kingdom.”
Was this the equivalent of a middle-ages date? I tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. It didn’t matter. I wanted to see more of the kingdom, and I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather have show it to me.
“Sure. Why not.”
“Is that a yes?”
I laughed. “That’s a yes. Do I have time to get dressed?”
His eyes dropped to the neck of my robe and I was a little pleased to see the colour rise in his cheeks.
It only took me a few moments to pull on the dress from the day before and pin up my hair. Strangely enough I felt excited. The way I used to feel years ago, before everyone at school ostracised me, when I used to go out with guys and go to parties. I had to keep reminding myself that no matter how it felt, it wasn’t a date. I couldn’t afford to think like that.
I slipped out of my room and found Lancelot leaning against the wall opposite. His dark, curly hair was falling forward into his eyes as he stared at his feet, but he jolted upright as I closed the door behind me.
Without a word he led me down through the castle and out into the courtyard. Two horses stood saddled and waiting.
“Oh no,” I said, taking two steps back. “Not horses.”
Lancelot turned to look at me with a frown.
“I don’t ride,” I clarified.
He frowned even more. “Everyone rides.”
“Not me.”
Clearly I’d disrupted his plans because he hesitated for a moment, then he said something quickly to one of the stable boys and the lad led the smaller of the two horses away.
“Come on.” Lancelot took my hand and led me over to the remaining horse. It was a beast. I could barely see over its back, and muscles rippled under the sleek coat. Before I could protest he’d swung me up onto the horse and was mounting behind me. He reached round my waist to pick up the reins then urged the horse into a trot. I clung to his forearms, gritting my teeth.
The chainmail on his arms was cold against my waist, but his breath was warm on my ear and I found myself leaning back into his chest, relaxing as I got used to the horse’s gait.
We left the town behind and before long were trotting through a small wood. The winding track led slowly up hill and for most of the ride neither of us spoke.
“So, what do you think of our fair Camelot, My lady?” He asked finally.
“Incredible,” I replied. “But at the same time, exactly what I expected.”
He didn’t reply but turned the horse off the track and we emerged into a small clearing. I gasped, my heart almost skipping a beat.
“My Lady?” I could hear the concern in his voice.
“Nothing, it’s just beautiful.” I stared around in wonder as Lancelot dismounted and then reached up to lift me down. I twirled on the spot. It was the clearing from Lance’s memory, the one he’d shown me the night he’d taken me from home. Had it been random coincidence, or did he remember? Had he shown it to me because he knew he already had? I rubbed my temples as the paradox of travelling through time threatened to tie my thoughts in knots.
Lance was busy pulling the saddlebags off the horse and he unfurled a blanket. “I thought we could have a little morning meal.”
I nodded and lowered myself onto the blanket. The meal he’d brought was simple. Bread, cheese and cold meat, but it filled the hole from missing supper the night before. And it stopped me thinking about the fact that the last time I’d seen this place was more than a thousand years into the future.
After I’d eaten a little I cocked my head to look at Lancelot.
“Why did you bring me out here?”
He paused mid-chew then swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“I just wondered why you brought me out here.” I didn’t mean for it to come out so bluntly, so accusatory, but I couldn’t help it.
He stared off into the distance then shrugged. “I wished to spend more time with you. You are unlike any woman I’ve met before. You intrigue me.”
The butterflies in my stomach woke up. “Is that a good thing?”
“I think so.” He didn’t actually sound convinced himself. “They tell me I’m the greatest knight in Camelot, but until I met you I never believed it. Sometimes you look at me like you think I can do anything…but other times…”
I blushed slightly and ducked my head but he caught my chin, tipping my face back up so he could look in my eyes.
“Other times you look at me like you know me, the real me. Like you see deeper than anyone else. You see the side of me no one else knows.”
“And Lady Elaine?” The moment was too intense; I had to say something, anything, to break the tension.
Lancelot grimaced. “Lady Elaine is persistent. She is beautiful. But beside you she is like a pale shadow.”
It wasn’t working. The intensity grew like electricity crackling in the air between us.
Lancelot moved his fingers from my chin, sliding up to my cheek. With his other hand he reached out and tucked a loose lock of hair back behind my ear, his fingers lingering, twisting the curl.
“You remind me of one of the Fair Folk, like you’re not quite part of this world.”
I exhaled slowly, trying to control the hammering of my heart.
He leant forward and his lips brushed mine. I stopped fighting my feelings, stopped listening to the screaming voice in my head that was telling me how stupid I was being, and leant into him, pressing my lips back against his. The world stopped. My heart stopped. There was nothing except him and me, nothing but the feel of his lips burning against mine.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
He broke the kiss far too quickly, sitting back with a worried look in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, My Lady, I should not have done that. Please forgive me.”
It took a moment for me to regain control of my tongue. “Forgive you? For what?”
“That was inappropriate.”
I understood then. I remembered the time I was in. Things were different here. Even us being alone together would be frowned upon. I realised I didn’t care.
Leaning forward I caught the back of his neck with one hand and kissed him again. He made a noise of surprise against my lips and then his fingers were in my hair, pulling me closer to him.
This time when we broke apart I was the one who was worried, but Lancelot looked pleased. We were both a little breathless but neither of us spoke. Instead he lay back, tugging me down beside him.
We lay on our backs, shoulders touching, staring up at the scudding clouds.
“I need to ask you a favour,” I said at last, propping myself on my elbow.
He turned his head to the side to look at me. “Anything.”
“You might want to hear what it is before you agree.”
“If it is within my power there is nothing I wouldn’t do.”
I almost laughed at the pure romanticism of that. “I need you to teach me how to use a sword.”
There was a beat of absolute silence t
hen he started laughing.
“Stop that,” I snapped. “I’m serious.”
“But you’re a woman.”
My hands clenched into fists. I felt like hitting him but I restrained myself. “Do you believe in the Round Table?”
He sat up, bringing himself almost nose to nose with me. “Of course.”
“That all men are equal?”
“Yes.”
“Then that should include women. I’m not some delicate little flower, and I have as much right to know how to protect myself as any man.”
“That’s what I’m for.”
I brushed his cheek with my fingertip. “You won’t always be around. Please, Lancelot, is it really so much to ask?”
He sighed and reached up to hold my hand to his cheek, the slight stubble on his jaw rubbing against my fingers.
“I suppose not.” He stood up in one smooth motion and held out his hand to me. “We may as well begin if you are so determined.”
I let him pull me to my feet then he stepped back, drawing the sword that was always belted at his hip and holding it out to me hilt first.
As before when he released it I almost dropped it and he sighed.
“And herein lies the biggest problem.”
I glowered at him and lifted the sword. It weighed a ton, but I knew Excalibur wouldn’t be so heavy. If I could learn to fight with a normal sword then using Excalibur would be a breeze.
“First you must learn to hold it correctly.” He stepped behind me, reaching round to re-position my hands on the hilt, his chest pressing against my back. “And you must learn to stand.”
I huffed. “I’ve been able to stand since I was a year old.”
He ignored me and used his knee to nudge my legs into the right place, the long line of his thighs against my own. I tried to ignore the butterflies exploding in my stomach.
“Keep your weight on your back leg, it will allow you to move quicker out of an attack.” His voice had changed, becoming gruff and business-like. I imagined this was how he was when he was training young knights.
The lesson continued for hours. It was well past midday before I finally dropped the sword. My arms were aching and a slight sheen of sweat coated my skin.
But Lancelot looked impressed. “You show some skill – for a woman.”
I nearly hit him, but I heard the teasing note in his voice. “And you’re not a bad instructor – for a man.”
He cocked one eyebrow at me and pulled me towards him so suddenly that I crashed into his chest and he caught my mouth in a kiss.
Pulling away a few moments later, he shook his head, looking bewildered. “I swear you must be some kind of enchantress, woman.”
“Because I make you want to kiss me?” I asked, teasing.
He turned away, muttering under his breath, but the words I caught sent a thrill through me: “Because you make me want to do far more than that.”
The next morning, the day the party from the neighbouring kingdom arrived, I was on one of the battlements watching. It was a cool, but bright day, a slight breeze fluttering the flags and pennants that hung from the walls. I found a spot halfway between two armoured guards and leant through the embrasure in the wall, looking down into the courtyard.
There were only two official visitors, but they were accompanied by fifteen armed men. The noise as they clattered up through the streets of the town and through the portcullis was deafening.
I watched as Arthur came out onto the steps. He stopped half-way down and waited. Merlin stood on his right, a step or so behind. His long robe was a deep blue and he had braided both his long, grey hair and his beard in honour of the occasion.
Lancelot took the position on Arthur’s left and he looked simply magnificent. He wore full armour that gleamed in the weak sunlight, a cape of rich red fluttering behind him. His helmet was tucked under one arm and his other hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He looked the picture of ease, but I felt I knew him well enough to see the tension in his body.
The other knights of the court stood ranked around the courtyard, over thirty in total.
Considering it was supposed to be a visit to broker peace there seemed to be an awful lot of pointy weapons around.
I leant further through the embrasure to watch as Arthur greeted the Prince of the neighbouring kingdom, and his companion, and welcomed them into Camelot.
Just as Lancelot turned to follow them he glanced up, his eyes meeting mine. A brief smile flashed across his face as he vanished inside.
That night there was to be a ball to honour the visiting dignitaries. As far as I was concerned every night seemed to be a lavish event, but Lancelot assured me that this was different.
“There will be music, feasting and dancing,” he told me, excitement gleaming in his eyes.
I hadn’t seen much of him all day. He’d spent most of the afternoon shut away with Arthur, Merlin and the visiting dignitaries, but now, as the sun began to set, he’d been released from his duties. When he’d knocked on my door he had refused at first to come in, saying it was inappropriate for him to be alone in a lady’s chambers.
When I had cheekily pointed out that he wouldn’t be alone, I would be there, he relented with a smile. He sat on a low stool by my window, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
He had unbuckled his sword and it lay across my bed. I perched beside it, stroking my fingers idly over the engraved hilt.
“Dancing,” I repeated hesitantly.
He nodded, smirking. “They don’t have dancing where you come from?”
I thought of the grinding that had occurred at our last school dance. “Not what you’d call dancing.”
“You could teach me,” he suggested. “I’d like to learn more of where you come from.”
My mind dwelled on that idea longer than it needed to, and my stomach did a somersault. I had no problem with the thought of having Lancelot hold me like that, but if he thought being in my room was inappropriate, then that kind of dancing would be likely to give him a heart attack.
“Cara? Would you teach me?”
His voice jolted me out of a few inappropriate thoughts and I quickly schooled my expression.
“Not tonight.”
He looked disappointed but his expression soon brightened. “You will honour me with a dance tonight though, won’t you?”
I blanched. “You know, I’m sure I should be getting ready by now. So should you.”
He frowned as I snatched his sword off the bed and thrust it at him. Taking it, he rose to his feet. “You didn’t answer the question.”
Using my shoulder, I nudged him towards the door. “No, I didn’t.”
“But-“
We had reached the corridor and I checked left and right before silencing him with a kiss. As my mouth moved against his, his hands flexed at his sides as though he wasn’t sure if he could touch me or not.
When I pulled away there was a dazed look in his eyes. I didn’t think I would ever get used to the effect I had on him.
“Go.” Turning him around, I pushed him down the corridor.
The giggles came the moment I closed the door behind him, but a knock on the door stopped them again almost immediately. Thinking Lancelot had heard me, I pulled the door open with a bright smile.
A young girl stood on the other side, holding a bundle of fabric.
She bobbed a curtsy. “My Lady, His Majesty asked that I bring this to you, and help you dress.”
I took the bundle of fabric and let it unravel. It was a deep green dress under woven with gold thread so that the whole thing shimmered as it moved.
“Ar-His Majesty wants me to have this? Why?”
The girl shrugged. “Not my place to ask, My Lady.”
I barely looked where I was going as I stepped back into the room. Clothes had never really been something I’d been interested in. I’d simply followed the trends of my classmates, but even I could tell the dress was something special. What I couldn’t unde
rstand was why Arthur had given it to me.
I stripped off the old, worn dress Elaine had loaned me and let the girl help me into the new one.
It fit perfectly, except for being a fraction too short, but the flowing skirts made it barely noticeable. The bodice wasn’t cut low, the modesty of the era didn’t allow for it, but two golden ties crossed between and under my bust, enhancing the few curves I had, then wrapped around my waist to tie at my right hip.
The sleeves, unlike the rest of the dress, were gossamer fine, widening at the bottom to hide my hands. Quite simply it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever worn.
The maid pushed me down onto a stool and started braiding my hair.
By the time she was finished the sun had fully set, but as she let me stand up she looked smug about her handiwork. “You ought to go down now, my Lady.”
The throne room had been decorated for the occasion with red and blue hangings. Red for Camelot, and blue for the kingdom across the border. I felt a little ashamed that I didn’t even know the name.
I paused in the doorway, drinking it all in, but then my gaze was drawn to the centre of the room. Lancelot stood holding court with four other knights. He had changed from his armour into a pair of leather breeches and an embroidered, light blue tunic.
His hair had been combed back, but already a few loose strands were falling into his eyes. I preferred it that way.
He had a goblet of wine halfway to his mouth when he caught sight of me, and his eyes widened over the brim. The butterflies in my stomach started beating away and I couldn’t seem to move as he dropped his goblet on a table and wound through the crowd towards me.
As he reached me he swept into a bow so graceful it would have made a ballerina look clumsy. He caught my hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Lady Cara.”
I bobbed a little curtsy, the best I could manage. “Sir Lancelot.”
“You look like a dream,” he murmured, lifting his hand to stoke his fingers lightly across my collarbone
I flushed, conscious of so many eyes fixed on us, but Lancelot smiled. Taking my hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm and led me out into the room. I didn’t even protest as he drew me out into the cleared space and began to lead me in the steps of an intricate dance. It felt like a dream, one that for a change I didn’t want to wake up from.
The Last Knight (Pendragon Book 1) Page 18
