But what if the woman was unattainable?
“That would prove interesting,” Arthur said to the empty room. “I believe we need a miracle in Camelot.”
He rose and looked at his glorious table, a plan forming in his mind.
It would be difficult to accomplish.
And it could be for nothing.
But it would make for an entertaining Christmas season, he thought. Arthur smiled as he went to seek his queen.
This year Arthur couldn’t wait for Christmas in Camelot.
CHAPTER 1
“Not on my life!”
Lady Noelle Mallory’s voice echoed around the Great Hall of Cranborne Castle. She gripped the back of the tapestry-covered chair. The Great Hall seemed to be closing in on her.
Were her brothers daft?
They didn’t look daft.
But there they sat in the carved oak chairs reserved for the head of the table, apparently thinking that she’d be happy to do their bidding as if she were some simpleton. Well, they were not talking to a maiden of twelve years.
“Be reasonable, Noelle,” her eldest brother said. “You should have been married long before now as you are older than most by some six years. If not for our father indulging your whims, you would be long married. But you were always waiting for that special knight with his polished armor to carry you away. What nonsense! Merlin put foolish notions into your head when you were but a child.” John Mallory paused then sat back in his chair and leaned on the arm. “Tristan and I have tried to be patient, but our patience has worn thin.”
“As has your coin,” Noelle spat. “Should I point out that neither of you is married?”
“It is different for men,” Tristan said.
“God’s wounds!” John slammed his hand on the table. His face was as red as his surcoat. “Don’t you remember the men you have rejected? Good proposals all.” Their wealth would have helped Cranborne thrive.
Noelle tightened her grip on the chair. “Aye, I well remember.” She shrugged. “They were not to my liking.”
“We have come to the conclusion that you know not what you want, so Tristan and I have chosen for you.”
“It is so nice of you both,” she said in as sarcastic a tone as she could muster, then looked at Tristan, who had always been her confidante. “You are a traitor.”
“Nay.” He shook his head in denial. “This time I must agree with John. We have not chosen a peasant for you. He is one of King Arthur’s knights.”
John faced his sister, noting her hellbent stare: one that could freeze him to the chair if he were to pay her any attention. He’d been living with her temper all his life and, thankfully, had learned to survive, as had Tristan. However, Tristan was of little help. He had contributed to her wild ways. He’d even gone so far as to let her pose as his squire.
John sighed. His attempts to reason with his sister were apparently getting nowhere.
The problem with Noelle was her beauty. With her flaxen hair and creamy skin, she could wrap any man around her finger. Upon doing so, she’d merrily send them on their way. She required a challenge. And this time, John had found somebody he was certain could handle her. They had been forced to throw in twenty acres of land because her stubborn disposition was well known. Praise the Lord, Sir Gavin was willing to try, and John wasn’t sure that even Sir Gavin would be able to tame Noelle. But Cranborne needed a knight of his stature, and his army for protection. The evil Prince Meleagant was always on the prowl for weaker holdings. John admitted he had not done well managing Cranborne, but with a little help he would do better next time.
“Today is December first, your birthday, and you are one and twenty. It is time that you come to terms with the idea of marriage.”
“Some birthday present,” she said. Her eyebrow raised. “Wait until you see what I get you in return.”
Tristan chuckled and John gave him a withering look.
John rose and braced his hands on the table. “No matter, Noelle. You will marry Sir Gavin on Christmas Day in the presence of King Arthur and his court.”
“You cannot force me,” Noelle declared. She squared her shoulders, then asked, “What if I refuse?”
“There will be no refusal!” John shouted.
“But I do not love him.” Her voice matched his tone.
“You don’t know him!”
“Precisely,” Noelle shouted to both her brothers; then she turned and jumped down from the dais. As she ran past the large hearth, a log fell, shooting sparks up the chimney. Ignoring the colorful display, she headed for the front door.
Noelle could hear John and Tristan shouting for her to stop, but she jerked the door open anyway. Not bothering to pause or acknowledge that they were shouting, she slammed the door behind her.
She raced to the stable where her horse, Thor, had already been saddled. She had intended to ride earlier when the summons had come from her brothers.
The marshal, who had been pitching hay, straightened as she entered. “I still have Thor saddled, milady,” Phillip called to her as she dashed past him. He leaned against the pitchfork, watching her. “Is something amiss, milady?”
“Everything is amiss,” Noelle said as she stepped up on the mounting block. Grabbing the reins and the pommel, she mounted her horse, her skirts swirling down the stallion’s side. “I am going for a ride.”
Phillip took the stallion’s bridle and walked him through the stable. “You don’t have a cloak. It is cold outside,” he said as he let go of the bridle. “Here, take my surcoat.” He walked over to a peg and retrieved the heavy garment. “It is not as nice as yours, milady, but will keep you warm.”
Noelle leaned down and smiled as she took the jacket. Phillip had run the Cranborne stables for a long time. “I will be honored to wear your garment.”
She slipped the brown surcoat on over her head. “You should get someone else to pitch the hay.”
“I like doing things myself, milady.”
“You always have.” She smiled at him. “I will be back shortly.”
“Not without an escort,” Phillip called after her, but she’d kicked Thor into a canter and was long gone. “No one will be able to catch her now,” he said to himself.
He turned around and looked behind him. “Nigel,” Phillip shouted.
The young groom stuck his head out from behind one of the stalls. “Ye want me?”
“Aye. Saddle a horse and try to accompany Lady Noelle.” Phillip sighed. “If you can catch her, that is.” He stood at the stable door, watching as the tail end of the mighty Thor disappeared through the gate. Noelle was so reckless. Phillip always feared for her safety.
Freedom. That was what Noelle sought.
Freedom to do just as she pleased with no one telling her what to do. If her father were still alive, her brothers would not be pressuring her into doing something she did not desire. Of course, they could not force her to marry against her will, but they could make her life hell if she didn’t at least agree to consider the idea.
Her father had always treated her as an equal to her brothers. She could outshoot and outride both of them, and right now the thought of shooting them appealed to her a great deal.
Leaning low over Thor, she let him take her to their favorite place: a well-hidden lake that only she knew about, a place where she could find peace and escape her brothers for a little while.
The cool, crisp air chilled her body, if not her soul, and she was thankful for Phillip’s kind gesture. He had been around all her life, and he was the one who had taught her to ride.
Noelle knew it would take a long time for her rage to cool down. If it cooled at all.
Some Christmas this would be, she thought as she neared the woods.
When she came to the grove of trees, thick with evergreens and oaks, she guided Thor to the small opening and ducked to avoid a low-hanging limb. Thor made his way along the familiar path to the first clearing where he stopped as he’d done many times before. No
elle dismounted.
Since it was wintertime, there wasn’t much grass, but Thor would be able to find a few blades to munch upon. Noelle patted him on the side of his neck. He was a beautiful black stallion with a white lightning bolt running the length of his nose which was the reason she’d named him Thor.
She reached into a sack that had been tossed across his rump and drew out a handful of oats so the stallion could graze in his favorite spot.
Noelle followed the narrow path to the lake and sighed upon catching a glimpse of the sun shining on the calm water. It was breathtaking. A gust of cool wind blew her hair away from her face as she came to the end of the path.
As she neared the water’s edge, a splash caught her attention and made her forget her anger as she wondered what animal she might see. Carefully, she eased down the final few steps of the path and stopped behind a bush. She hid there so she wouldn’t frighten the creature. Ever so quietly, she inched her way up until she could see over the top of the bush.
Her eyes widened.
It was not the kind of animal she had expected to see.
No, indeed.
Emerging from the cold water was a man. A gasp escaped her lips so quickly, she had to clamp her hand over her mouth to silence it. Then she ducked back down behind her cover.
When Noelle felt it was safe, she rose again and, this time, kept her mouth shut. That didn’t stop her eyes from widening as she gazed upon the backside of the man who was just emerging from the water ... and ... and he was completely naked.
Did the fool not realize that it was winter?
She knew any proper lady should blush and look away. However, she thought with a wry smile, who would know? Besides which, she was most curious. So, why not satisfy her curiosity just a wee bit? Aye, what could it hurt?
What she saw pleased her a great deal. A well muscled back and a firm backside proved this one wasn’t lazy. He looked more like a warrior than a peasant, but a warrior would have many soldiers around him, and he was alone. His rich, dark hair brushed his shoulders, and Noelle wondered what the front of him looked like as she leaned to the side to get a better view.
It was a mistake. She lost her grip on the hawthorn bush and fell sideways. Quickly, she put her hand out to catch herself and hastily resumed her position, peeking through the bushes.
A falcon in a nearby tree called and the man swung halfway around to see it.
Noelle did have the decency to cover her eyes, but she couldn’t help the cracks between her fingers that allowed her to view the finest specimen of a man she’d ever seen.
He must truly be a god.
“Oooooh,” she sighed. Upon realizing she had actually made the sound she ducked farther behind her protective bush and waited for the heat in her cheeks to cool before standing up again.
When she eased back up, he was gone.
Disappointment washed over her, and Noelle decided he truly must have been a god or a strong figment of her imagination, because no man could be that perfect and then disappear so quickly. She frowned as she swept her gaze over the lake, trying to catch another glimpse of him.
He was gone.
Noelle stepped from her hiding place. Why couldn’t her brothers find someone like that man for her to marry? She still might not like the idea of marriage, but at least she’d have something fine to gaze upon in her misery. With her last pleasing thought, she turned to check on Thor.
And hit a tree.
Funny, she didn’t remember a tree right behind her. When a pair of hands clasped her arms to keep her from falling backwards, she gasped. Something was amiss.
“Have you been enjoying the view, wench?” a rich voice sounded above her.
She stiffened. She’d been caught.
“Unhand me, sir.” Noelle tried to sound furious, but to no avail. He did not loosen his grip.
So much for intimidation.
She stared at the spot where the ties of his kirtle lay opened at his neck. Slowly, her gaze traveled up until she could see his face.
Aye, he was truly a god.
The strength of his features overwhelmed her. Power, strength, danger were all she could think of and her gaze had only reached his chin. She shivered. Did she dare look at the rest of him? Noelle clasped his forearms as she tilted back to see all of him. The man was huge. He looked down at her with the most unusual, predatory amber eyes that she had ever seen.
Hopefully, she wasn’t the prey.
“Pray tell, what are you doing here, sir? For you are trespassing,” she finally said.
“Is that so?” he said in a tone not in the least bit cowed. “Since when does a peasant claim to own land?”
She stiffened in his arms. “And when does a peasant speak thus to a lady?”
His expression darkened at the insult. “I see before me a woman dressed in a well-worn and, I might add, ugly surcoat trying to act like a lady. Do you take me for a simpleton?”
“Nay. But at least I have clothes.” She looked down and blushed at the sight of his bare legs. He hadn’t put on his chausses. “I-I borrowed this surcoat,” Noelle sputtered. “Wh-what is your name?”
“Nicholas.”
Noelle laughed, wanting to insult him and get that smirk off his face—a face filled with dark arrogance that would be burned into her memory forever.
“Nicholas? It is a commoner’s name to be sure,” she flung at him as she tried to squirm out of his grip. “You are probably from some nearby village.”
Instead of accomplishing her goal, she was suddenly jerked closer to her foe. She could now feel the muscles she’d only glimpsed earlier and see the rugged contours of a jaw that was now tense, telling her he hadn’t cared for her comment.
“Do I look like the people in your village, wench? Excuse me, milady,” he sneered.
“N-nay,” she managed, a little stunned by his closeness. She struggled, needing to put some distance between them so she could think straight. He smelled so clean and fresh. “Release me at once.”
“Why should I? It is you who intruded, not I.”
“It’s not proper. It is my land that you have intruded upon.”
“Let me make sure I understand.” Nicholas chuckled. “You are out here unchaperoned, and you are trying to convince me that you have proper manners.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Do you know what I think?”
She shook her head. This man had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. And she really shouldn’t care what he thought of her, but she did.
He took a step closer.
She didn’t retreat.
“Methinks your mouth says one thing, and your body another.” His whispered voice hovered just above her mouth, his gaze fixed on her lips.
God’s wounds. She felt as if she were melting. “I- I—” Noelle never finished her sentence because his mouth silenced her. His arms circled her waist, and she was suddenly very close to him. His lips were warm, caressing. She loved every minute of his kiss, but she pushed hard against his chest. She was, after all, a lady.
He wasn’t a gentleman.
He only tightened his hold, so she couldn’t move at all. He drew back slightly, giving her the chance to say something. When she opened her mouth to speak, he took advantage and plunged his tongue into her warmth.
Noelle was so shocked with the flood of heat that flowed into every part of her body that she forgot to struggle.
She also forgot that she was alone and could be ravaged by a man she didn’t know.
It seemed she had forgotten everything . . . except the lips that moved with such expertise. Suddenly, Noelle was lost in a world she’d never known.
She clung to Nicholas like the simple maid he’d claimed she was. And worse, she liked this new feeling, enjoying every minute of his embrace.
She had been kissed once, maybe twice, in her lifetime but never like this ... no, nothing like this.
He wasn’t a god. He was the devil.
Nicholas knew the
minute the woman responded, and suddenly he lost control of the situation. He had meant to teach her a lesson, not seduce her. But her young, firm breasts pressed next to his thin kirtle were intoxicating indeed. The sweetness of her mouth stirred a passion in him much stronger than he could ever remember . . . and something more. A feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Shyly, she followed his lead. Her tongue began to explore his mouth, giving him a new meaning to kissing.
By God, she was passionate.
Again, there was the oddest feeling, some unnamed thing he could not recall. Lifting his head, he gazed upon her face. Her eyelids fluttered open, and he saw so many mixed emotions in her eyes that it took his breath away. Then he knew what he felt for her ... tenderness.
A feeling he’d never felt toward any woman before.
He used a wench and sent her on her way. He had never wanted attachments.
A man who cares becomes weak.
He becomes careless.
So Nicholas had always been careful not to let his emotions get in the way.
But here they were.
He felt tenderness, and he didn’t like it.
He needed to get control of the situation and do it now.
Nicholas pushed the woman from him. He saw the raw desire in her eyes before reality set in, and she remembered she wasn’t supposed to be kissing a stranger. She slapped him. The sound shattered the stillness of the lake.
“A bit late for that, milady,” Nicholas growled as he rubbed his jaw.
How he’d had the luck to run into such a creature out here in the middle of nowhere, when he’d sworn off all damsels for at least a month, was either dumb luck or misfortune. He wasn’t sure which.
But he was certain that she was a treasure, and he was sorely tempted to forget his vow and take her here and now on the cold, hard ground. That cold swim had frozen his brain, but it hadn’t done much for the rest of his body, which raged with fire. And she had to be a commoner. Look at the way she was dressed…a plain cotehardie and shabby surcoat.
Super Summer Set of Historical Shorts Page 19
