“Why, Stephen my lad, I think you might be fond of the gel.”
Stephen swore at him, then hung up before he said something he would be repaid for in what served as Sedgwick’s lists. He would teach his class, take care of whatever else he needed to see to for the next handful of days whilst he was still awake, then lock his door and put himself to bed early so he could get an even earlier start.
And if John de Piaget was willing to give him a wooing idea or two, he wasn’t going to shun them.
They couldn’t be any worse than what he would come up with himself.
P
eaches
stood by the fire in her sister’s kitchen and looked at the cup of tea she’d brewed and left sitting on the table. She was cold, which she shouldn’t have been. She’d already been for a run and taken the hottest shower possible, but neither had done anything for her.
Maybe that was just the aftereffects of having spent a brisk almost twenty-four hours in medieval England. She still felt a little like sitting down until she stopped shaking. She’d tried to put herself back into some sort of routine, but walking through Tess’s castle gates the afternoon before had been unsettling. Waking up to an authentic-looking canopy over her head had only added to the sensation. She’d been all right on her run, except for the fact that after she’d watched her feet for three miles, then turned around and come back the way she’d gone, still watching her feet, then looked up to see Sedgwick rising up in the distance. Very medieval. Very not what she was used to.
All of which left her ignoring very vigorously the thing that was really eating at her while standing in her sister’s kitchen, warming her backside against a raging fire, and wondering just what in the world she was supposed to do now.
Her list of options was not encouraging. She could go back to Seattle and try to resurrect her business. Brandalyse might have looked good on camera and known everyone who was anyone in town, but that could be overcome with enough effort, couldn’t it? She could create a new list of better, more disorganized clients, couldn’t she? Three thousand dollars that wasn’t quite three thousand any longer was enough to survive on while she got a temporary job in a juice bar, wasn’t it?
She wasn’t sure she had any other choices. After all, it wasn’t as if she could stay in England indefinitely, mooching off her sister and her husband until they got thoroughly sick of her and kicked her out. She would eventually have to go back to Seattle and try to put her life together.
The only saving grace was that she was indeed not in medieval England where her opportunities for gainful employment would have been limited to food service, farming, or perhaps more unsavory trades.
She looked up as Tess strolled into the kitchen looking happier than anyone had the right to be. Sadly enough, Tess deserved every moment of happiness she was enjoying, so Peaches couldn’t begrudge her any of it. She did, however, look at her with a scowl, because she was having that kind of day so far.
Tess only lifted her eyebrows briefly and put a kettle on for tea. She dug out a thermos, a couple of mugs, and a small picnic hamper. Peaches watched her, assuming that perhaps she and John were off for a romantic brunch. Tess poured tea into a teapot to allow it to steep for a bit, then sat down at the worktable.
“Good run?”
“Lovely,” Peaches said politely. “And your morning so far?”
“Spectacular,” Tess said. She folded her hands together and rested her chin on top of them. “What are you doing? If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”
Peaches knew her sister wasn’t asking about her current occupation of trying to keep herself warm. She had to take a deep breath. “I don’t know.”
“What do you
want
to do?”
“Have a successful career, fulfill my potential, think about having a relationship in ten years or so—”
“Get serious,” Tess said with a smile. “What do you really want?”
Peaches found that she was physically incapable of saying what she really wanted because it was so ridiculous. And it involved a man whom she couldn’t have even if she wanted him, which she was fairly sure she didn’t. She sighed deeply.
“I want a vacation.”
“You just had one.”
Peaches shot her sister a look. “I want one in a place with running water.”
Tess looked at her seriously. “I’m sorry you were there alone.”
“I wasn’t alone for very long,” Peaches said. “Stephen came as quickly as he could.”
“He takes his chivalry very seriously,” Tess said, “though I imagine his lofty ideals aren’t the only reason he went after you.”
Peaches shook her head. “He was very kind to me, but that’s the extent of his feelings for me. I’m sure of it.”
Tess nodded and seemed to have nothing more to say about it. Peaches didn’t blame her. It wasn’t as though there was anything
to
say. Stephen was not for her and she was not for him. The sooner she came to grips with that, the happier she would be.
Besides, she didn’t like him. He was bossy, serious, and had far too many girlfriends with bad manners popping in to see him at odd hours. She was looking for someone who would be content to let her walk all over him. Really.
She looked at Tess. “What should I do? With my life, I mean.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Tess said with an uncomfortable laugh. “I’m not the dispenser of advice. That’s your job. If you were you giving advice to someone in your situation, what would you tell them?”
“Not to make any snap decisions, but rather lay out all the options and examine each carefully and with love,” Peaches said dutifully.
“Well, then there you go.” Tess poured the tea into the thermos and packed up the picnic basket with all kinds of goodies. “Let’s go avoid making any snap decisions. And go examine stuff with love.”
“You and me?” Peaches asked.
“You and I,” Tess said pleasantly, “and yes, we should go enjoy the morning. It’s very nice outside.”
“It’s freezing,” Peaches said, “which doesn’t begin to address the idea that you want us to go have fun with John as third wheel.”
“John won’t be a third wheel,” Tess said, putting her coat on. “He has his hands full. This picnic stuff is just for us. We’re spectating this morning.”
“Spectating what?”
“Whom,” Tess corrected.
“Spectating whom, then,” Peaches said, suppressing the urge to throw up her hands in frustration.
“John and his friend. They’re in the lists, working out.”
Peaches put her coat on because Tess shoved it at her. “Who is his friend?”
Tess looked at her in amusement. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Peaches felt suddenly as though she might like to sit down. “Don’t mess with me, Tess. My chi is way out of balance right now.
Whom
are we spectating?”
Tess took the basket in one hand and Peaches in the other. “Stephen.”
“Stephen de Piaget?”
“The very same.”
Peaches closed her eyes and took several deep, calming breaths. So Stephen had come to Sedgwick. The man had car keys and was old enough to drive. He was free to go wherever he wanted to.
Besides, he had probably come to discuss his recent adventures with John. If he happened to have brought his sword with him, who was she to quibble? It had nothing to do with her. She could go out to the lists with Tess, watch the goings-on dispassionately, then come inside and have a very lovely, leisurely supper no matter who else was at the table.
She took in a deep, cleansing breath, repeated a soothing mantra, then opened her eyes and looked at her sister.
“I would have thought he had class,” she said.
“He had class yesterday, which was why he wasn’t here for supper last night. Today is a different story.”
“He must have been very eager to see John.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sure that’s the reason,” Tess agreed.
Peaches ignored the way that sent her pulse spiking. “Doesn’t Dr. de Piaget teach more than one day a week?”
“Apparently not,” Tess said without so much as a hint of a smirk. “And if you’re curious—though it’s obvious by the way you keep repeating your serenity mantras out loud and not realizing that you’re doing so—Stephen has been here for well over an hour. I’m surprised you didn’t see him as you were running away from the castle earlier.”
“I was watching the ground,” Peaches said, with another handful of deep breaths.
“We should go see what’s left of your friend. They’ve been out there for quite a while.”
“John might be surprised. All that business of Stephen’s not being able to hold his own with Montgomery was fake. He’s been training with Ian MacLeod for I don’t know how long. Too long, probably.”
“I’m not worried.”
“You shouldn’t be, but I am,” Peaches said, finding her mouth very dry all of the sudden. She looked at her sister and tried not to panic. “Why is he here?”
“I believe John invited him for lunch.”
“Why was John talking to him in the first place?”
“He called,” Tess said easily. “Yesterday, which I’m not sure I told you. Right after the very lovely Victoria of Stow threw a very expensive first-edition Joyce into his fire, which bothered him somewhat, and he realized you had gone. Apparently, you left your brush in his bathroom.”
Peaches shot Tess a look. “I didn’t have a brush, though I did use his bathroom. I was just borrowing the shower.”
Tess looked at her in amusement. “Peaches, you’re an adult—”
“And I was just borrowing his shower. One of his girlfriends showed up while I was still in his bathrobe because I didn’t have anything but a filthy ball gown to put back on and didn’t realize Humphreys had brought me my clothes. Victoria of Stow can believe what she wants. You have to believe that I was just borrowing Stephen’s shower.”
“It’s best to wait until marriage,” Tess said solemnly.
“Is it?”
“It is.”
Peaches rolled her eyes. “I’m not quite sure why we’re talking about that because—” She blew out her breath. “I wonder if I can get a flight out of here this morning.”
“To where?” Tess asked seriously.
“To retrieve my underwear from their place of honor on Roger Peabody’s mantel, that’s where.”
Tess stopped and put down her burden, then put her arms around Peaches. She hugged her tightly for a moment or two, then released her only far enough to put her hands on her shoulders. “Stay.”
“I’m afraid to,” Peaches whispered.
“You might like him.”
“I’m not planning my life around a man.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have things to do,” Peaches said, pulling away. “Important things to get together.”
“Well, while you’re making a plan to get all those important things back together, why don’t you stay?” Tess asked reasonably. “The castle’s big enough for all of us. You figure out what you want to do, and while you’re figuring that out, you can see Stephen when he’s down this way doing research.”
“Research on what?”
“On you.”
Peaches would have shoved her sister, but she’d given that up when she was five. She scowled at her instead. “Don’t push this where it doesn’t want to go. I’ve just recently forgiven him for being a jerk—”
“He wasn’t a jerk. He was tongue-tied.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Peach, I’ve known Stephen de Piaget for almost eight years. The man is a verbal Niagara Falls. It’s impossible to shut him up.”
“He hardly says anything to me.”
“That’s because you scare him.”
“Why?”
“Because he likes you.”
“Why?” Peaches asked miserably.
“Are you kidding?” Tess said with a laugh. “Have you looked at yourself lately?”
“Is that it?” Peaches managed. “He’s only interested in outsides?”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Tess said, taking her by the arm and pulling her out of the solar. “I’m not going to make a lengthy list of your considerable assets.”
“But I can’t
do
anything—”
Tess stopped so suddenly, she almost pulled Peaches off her feet. She looked at her seriously. “You listen to me, Peaches Alexander, before I go all Aunt Edna on you. Your gifts are numerous, your brainpower staggering, and your possibilities limited only by your courage. But if you want to know the single most amazing thing about you—which is going to make you impossible to live with—it is that when you talk to someone, the rest of the world falls away and the person so blessed by your attention feels like the most important person in the world. And if you think that’s a small thing, think again.”
Peaches found herself towed across the floor again. “I don’t have a title.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to marry you.”
“I’m not going to be h-h-his,” Peaches spluttered. “Well, whatever it is, I’m not going to be his version of it. I don’t even like him!”
“Liar.”
Peaches couldn’t refute that, so she shut her mouth and followed her sister across the courtyard and out to the lists.
“Watch out for the rock.”
Peaches looked down to find herself standing far too close to the flat stone that marked the time gate at the end of Tess’s bridge. She looked at her sister. “I think I want to stay here.”
“In England?”
“No, in the castle. Back in the kitchen.”
“Why?”
Peaches took a deep breath. “Because I’m afraid.”
“Afraid to see Stephen or leave Stephen?”
Peaches blew her bangs out of her eyes.
Tess patted her. “I wouldn’t worry. You don’t like him anyway, remember?”
Peaches supposed it would be a poor thank-you for Tess’s hospitality to push her into her moat, so she merely scowled at her again and followed her out to what served as the lists.
She sat down on a log and looked around at anything besides what was going on in front of her. She studied the flat clouds above her head, the muddy lists, the forest of bare trees that surrounded the castle at a discreet distance.
But the ring of swords was relentlessly distracting.
She finally sighed deeply and gave in. And wished immediately that she hadn’t.
She hadn’t thought to ask Stephen how old he was, mid-thirties perhaps, though there was no difference between him and John when it came to energy or grace. John had the benefit of a lifetime of training, but he didn’t seem to be taking it all that easy on Stephen.