Knight of My Dreams (6 page)

“Oh, I am sure your son appreciates your efforts, my lady,” Alice found herself stepping in to say. Guilt had washed over the man's face. “I think he is merely stating that he is a bit overwhelmed. Perhaps 'tis expecting a lot from him to entertain so many women at once. Mayhap 'twould have been better had you invited some men to help with this endeavor.”

“Exactly,” Lord Jonathan said. “Finally, a woman with some sense.”

“Are you suggesting that I have no sense?” Lady Fairley asked with icy politeness. Alice nearly laughed aloud at the poleaxed look on the knight's face.

“Nay, nay,” he began quickly. “Of course not, Mother. I never meant to suggest—”

When Lady Fairley opened her mouth in what Alice suspected would be a furious blasting, she couldn't stop herself from intervening again. “I am sure he meant no insult, my lady. It is obvious he is quite worn out from doing his duty this evening and is not thinking straight. Perhaps it would be best if he were to take a stroll in the night air and let his thoughts clear.”

“Aye.” Jonathan leaped at the proffered escape. Yet, rather than simply slipping away, as she expected, he latched on to her hand and drew her with him. “A little walk through the gardens will be of great assistance in reviving me.”

“Oh, but I do not—” Alice protested as he drew her away from the great hall.

“Come. Your presence will keep those other women from following to harass me,” he insisted.

As he pulled her along behind him, Alice made a face at his back, but there seemed little use in arguing. Besides, she too was quite ready to get out of the feast. This had been a terribly boring evening for her; standing on the sidelines, watching Jonathan dance with a multitude of ladies. The entire time she was recalling how it had felt to be pressed close to his body, and the scent of him as they had ridden back to court after the picnic.

Alice sighed as those memories enveloped her again. They had a nasty tendency of doing so these last two days, and she didn't at all understand why. She had never before had such problems, never before been plagued by the memory of any single event, but it seemed these days her mind was constantly full of Jonathan and their time together.

“Thank the Lord.”

Alice was drawn from her thoughts to find that they had finally made their way outside. Falling into step beside him, she breathed in deeply of the night air and felt herself relax. It was only then that she realized she had been rather stiff and tense all evening. She'd found it irritating to watch Jonathan trip about with all his whirling maidens. Some part of her had even thought it terribly unfair that he hadn't asked her to dance, at least
once
. . . .

Just so she could compare it to how it felt to hold him on horseback, she assured herself quickly. But Alice knew that wasn't true. A part of her was quite unhappy that she wasn't under consideration to be Lord Jonathan's bride, and she couldn't help but wonder why. Not to mention that she couldn't understand why his mother seemed to like her fine when Jonathan wasn't around but showed definite signs of annoyance whenever he was in her company.

“Watch your step.”

Alice jerked her attention back to where she was walking, just barely managing to avoid stepping in a dark mass of something unpleasant.

“Where are we going?” She glanced around a bit anxiously. Normally she would not be alone like this with a man. Even the son of a family friend. Actually, now that she thought of it, she was flummoxed that her mother wasn't trailing behind, acting as chaperon. Glancing over her shoulder she saw that no, there was no one following, and yes, they were definitely alone. Most unusual, she decided with confusion.

“The stables.”

Alice turned her attention forward again at that answer.

“Why?”

“I thought we might go for a ride.”

Alice brightened at the thought—sitting behind him again, her arms around him, their bodies pressed close together—then caught back her enthusiasm. Firstly, he likely intended her to be on her own mount. Second, it was not very safe to ride at night. A horse could easily make a misstep and be injured. Also, this simply was not a good idea. What if someone caught them out here? What would people think of her virtue?

Sensing her resistance, and that this time it was a true resistance, Lord Jonathan paused to glance back at her. Her solemn expression seemed to jog his memory about propriety, and he sighed unhappily. “I suppose a ride is out of the question.”

“Aye,” Alice quietly agreed.

He nodded in resignation. “I just thought it would be nice to ride with you again. I enjoyed it the other day.”

Alice blinked at that awkward admission. He wasn't looking at her when he said it; his gaze actually danced everywhere but on her, still, it took her a moment to recognize his sudden shyness, and to realize that he was sincere in his claim. He had enjoyed their ride as much as she had!

“Perhaps . . .” she began, then paused. He was finally looking at her, and his gaze was trained on her mouth. It caused an odd tingling to start in her lips, and breathlessness overcame her. She could not have spoken had she wished. When he started to sway nearer, Alice felt her ability to breathe evaporate altogether. She was absolutely, positively certain he was about to kiss her. She allowed herself to sway toward him in response.

“Jonathan! Oh, there you are! I told James I thought you had gone this way.”

Alice and Jonathan leaped guiltily apart and swung around. Lady Fairley and Alice's uncle were approaching through the darkness.

“Mother.” The word was almost a groan on Jonathan's lips. Alice could sympathize completely. She felt rather like making a similar noise herself at the moment. His mouth had been so close to hers that she had felt his breath on her tender, tingling lips. But that promise was apparently not to be fulfilled tonight.

“I have decided to forgive you,” Lady Fairley announced. She reached them and slid her arm through her son's. “In fact, I have decided you may even be somewhat . . . well, not
completely
wrong about tonight's endeavor.”

“Oh?” The knight definitely sounded wary, Alice thought distractedly. Her uncle silently drew her hand onto his arm and they followed Lady Fairley and her son back from the stables.

“Aye,” Alice heard Margaret say. “In fact, I have decided to have another feast.”

“Another one?” Lord Jonathan came to an abrupt halt.

“Aye. Another one.” His mother laughed at his obvious horror and drew his arm back under hers to drag him along. She added gaily, “Two, in fact. Now I just have to speak to the king.”

W
hile Jonathan had spent the two days between the picnic and yestereve's feast avoiding Alice and the confusing feelings she stirred in him, the first thing he did upon awakening this morning was to go in search of her. He found the girl breaking her fast in the great hall, where it appeared almost every other guest at court was also eating. The room was overflowing with people, and the benches groaned under the weight of their numbers.

Alice sat at one of the upper tables, her mother on one side, a leering ogre Jonathan didn't know on her other. Striding forward, he managed, with a scowl and an elbow, to make the fellow, one who sat entirely too close to Alice, shift over enough to allow him to squeeze between them.

Alice twisted on the bench in surprise as he unintentionally jostled and nudged her, trying to claim the small space available. Much to his pleasure, the action left her chest smashed against his. Jonathan found himself quite enjoying the situation for the few seconds it lasted, then the girl blushed bright pink and turned to face forward again.

“Good morn, my lord,” she said.

Jonathan smiled at the strangled sound of her voice, knowing she was embarrassed. He also knew that his own voice would come out similarly at the moment if he used it—but not from embarrassment. The brief and intimate contact of their bodies had left him almost instantly aroused. Clearing his throat, he grunted in greeting and concentrated on the food and drink set before him. He allowed his body to recover before turning his attention again to her.

Those few moments allowed her to recover her composure, he saw. The red had receded from her face, and a slightly dreamy expression had replaced the embarrassed look of only moments before. “Do you have any plans for the day, my lady?” he asked.

“Nay. Why do you ask, my lord?” She glanced at him curiously, then, as he shuffled through his mind for an answer that eluded him, understanding came to her face. A crooked smiled claimed her lips. “Oh, of course. The list.”

“The list?” Jonathan repeated blankly.

“Aye. No doubt you wish to go over the list again . . . now that you have interacted with some of those on it. So that you may cross off those you found unacceptable,” she added when he continued to stare blankly at her.

“Ah, yes,” he murmured. His eyes fell back to his trencher as he contemplated that. It hadn't really been why he'd sought her out this morning. He couldn't say why he had; he'd simply wanted to see her. He had been pondering kissing her since his mother had interrupted what he was pretty sure would have been a hell of a kiss. Of course, he couldn't be positive he would have kissed her. He hadn't really been thinking at that point. At least, he hadn't been thinking,
I am going to kiss her
. Mostly he had been thinking that her lips looked full and soft and tempting, and that they probably tasted as good as they looked, and—

Well, this is neither here nor there,
Jonathan told himself. The point was, he had spent a good half of last night imagining a kiss he hadn't given her. The other half
had been spent
dreaming that he
had
kissed her . . . and more. He'd had terribly lascivious dreams, full of Alice's naked, creamy flesh in his hands and mouth, enclosing his hard—

“I had no plans for the day and would be pleased to assist you in this matter.”

For a moment, Jonathan thought she meant in the matter he had dreamed of. His heart nearly leaped through his chest with gratitude at the thought, and his body instantly became hard again. He gave his head a shake, peered at her innocent, smiling face, then realized she must mean she would be happy to go over her list with him.

It hadn't at all been the reason he'd sought her out, but he supposed it was the reason he
should
have sought her out.

“Wonderful,” he said, frowning at the huskiness of his voice. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “That would be very helpful, thank you.”

“If you are through breaking your fast, we may even do so now.” Much to Jonathan's horror, she actually started to rise. Grabbing her arm, he stopped her when she would have moved away from the table.

“I, er . . .” He peered down at his lap briefly, then realized that the action was likely to draw her attention to the unfortunate state of his manhood. He raised his gaze abruptly. Clearing his throat, he murmured, “I am not through eating.”

When her gaze moved with confusion to his trencher, Jonathan noticed that he had absently consumed every last bite of food that had been set before him.

“I am oddly ravenous this mom,” he explained lamely, but she nodded and relaxed back into her seat. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jonathan gestured a servant over and requested more food and another drink. He then glanced at Alice with a smile. Noting the sidelong looks being shot at the two of them by Alice's mother, Jonathan leaned forward and said, “I trust you are feeling well this mom, my lady?”

“Oh.” Lady Elizabeth of Houghton flushed. “Aye. Thank you, my lord. And you? Are you prepared for the day's endeavors?”

“Endeavors?” he asked cautiously.

“Aye. Preparations for your next feast.”

“What?” Jonathan had no qualms about letting his horror show. Another feast? Over his dead body! He would never again willingly suffer the tortures he had experienced the evening before. He had only refrained from arguing last night because he'd assumed the king would never agree to such activities in his palace. It seemed his mother had more persuasive power with Edward than he'd imagined.

“Oh, dear.” Alice's murmur drew his questioning gaze, and she explained, “I had quite forgotten about the feasts. I promised this morning to assist your mother with the preparations.”

“That is unnecessary,” he said. “I really do not think that another event will be necessary. The last, while not completely unhelpful, was something of an ordeal I would rather not see repeated.”

“Oh, but that is why I agreed to assist. I wanted to be sure that it would not be another like last night's debacle,” she explained earnestly. “This time, only appropriate women shall be invited. And half of the attendees shall be men, to help balance things out. This way, the other men may entertain the others while you concentrate on one lady at a time. You see?” She smiled at him brightly. “I am sure it will work out much better.”

Jonathan grimaced. He was not reassured by the news, but it seemed he had little choice in the matter. Worse, it appeared that Alice was now throwing herself into helping his mother find him a bride.

Now, why did that idea annoy him so much?

“O
h, I am so sorry, my lord. I am so clumsy.”

“What? Oh.” Jonathan tore his gaze away from Alice to force a smile for the young woman with whom he was dancing. The throbbing in his toes told him she was apologizing for stomping on his foot. It was the first time Jonathan had been so stomped all evening, but he had hardly noticed the action. His attention had been riveted on Lady Houghton's daughter—and the man presently leading her across the dance floor.

Damn his mother and her never-ending plans! he thought irritably. Muttering some polite comment about his dance partner's misstep, he turned his gaze back to Alice. This was the second bridal feast—the result of several days of work carried out by his mother, himself, Alice, and her mother. Lord Houghton had been present, as well, but that was all. The man was a layabout who apparently considered any manual labor to be beneath him.