Page 7 of The Sword and the Damsel
Fortunately, he’d managed to avoid being seated next to her again after that first night. Lady Alais was a danger to his sanity and was to be avoided at all costs. The last thing he wanted to do was to spend his days trailing after her.
“I…well…um…may I ask why, my lord? Isn’t there someone in the baron’s household better suited?” He wasn’t a nursemaid for God’s sake, but he didn’t dare offer an outright refusal.
His Lordship leaned back in his perfectly crafted, high-backed wooden chair and tipped it onto the back legs, balancingas he spoke. “I’ve never seen anyone as cool and collected around Lady Alais as you seem to be. The night you arrived, she was doing everything possible to get under your skin, and you took it in stride. When she started batting her eyelashes, you gave her a look, and she backed down without you saying a word. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Cool and collected? It’s a good thing he had no idea how far that was from the truth.
Bringing the front chair legs back to the floor with a thunk, he leaned toward Victor. “There aren’t many men I can trust around her. She’s too pretty for her own good, and she flirts with absolutely everyone. She’s trouble. I know she doesn’t mean to be, but she doesn’t seem to be able to help herself.”
Too pretty indeed. It hurt to look at her.
“My lord, I’ll do whatever you need, but I’m not sure I’m the most appropriate chaperone for a young lady.” There was no way to refuse. The man was his liege lord. But surely there had to be a better solution.
“I’m not asking you to chaperone,” His Lordship said, tipping back in his chair again. “Her maid, Dora, will be with her. But Dora is an old woman with an unfortunate tendency to fall asleep when she should be paying attention, and even wide awake, she’s not intimidating. All I need from you is to fend off any men that might try to approach her when she leaves the castle.”
Victor raised an eyebrow. “Men, plural? There’s more than this Gilbert?”
“She’s beautiful, rich, and eighteen. Of course, there are more,” Lord Daniel said, coming down with a thud. “I feel like I spend more time helping Lord de Vere swat them away than running Winchelsea, which brings me to the other thing I wanted to ask you about. We’re planning a tournament next month. We’re hoping it will improve our relations with ourneighbors. The Archbishop of Canterbury has been trying to expand his territories near Winchelsea. The Church is getting greedy and wants to expand at our expense, and we need allies to resist him. Also, God willing, the tournament will help us find Alais an acceptable husband. I’d like you to take the lead on organizing the preparations.”
Nowtherewas a job a man could enjoy. “It would be an honor, my lord.”
“Thank you for agreeing…on both fronts.” He stood and clapped a large, calloused hand on Victor’s shoulder. “Your duties with Alais should only require a few hours a day. She spends most of her time at the castle.”
Victor gave an uneasy nod. He’d only intended to agree to help with the tournament, but it was too late to take it back now. He wondered if Lord Daniel lumped the topics together on purpose to make him agree.
“Carenza will be pleased that you’ve agreed. She liked the idea when I proposed it. There aren’t many people she would trust to defend her sister.”
“I’m honored by your trust,” he said with a forced smile.
“Thank you for stopping by. I’ll see you at dinner. And don’t forget to bring your lute for afterward.”
Victor walked away thinking about how Lady Carenza was too clever by half. There were moments when she scared him a little, reminding him of his aunt. It was no wonder Lord Daniel was besotted. Lady Alais was a clever one too, though she went to great lengths to hide it. He liked women with a spark of intelligence—not that he liked Lady Alais. So far, she’d been petty and rude, and he had no time for her nonsense. But if she ever stopped putting on her act of being a silly, shallow flirt, she could be quite irresistible. To another man. He was immune to her charms, of course. And now that he’d given his word ofhonor to prevent anyone from approaching her, he’d better stay that way.
He wandered out of the castle and down Castle Street until the castle gate was no longer in view. Then he turned and made his way to Birdie Street, which he had just discovered three days ago. It was a narrow alley off Castle Street that was easy to miss. One entered through a small stone arch that led to a cobblestone path that wound around the steep hillside to the east of the castle. The rough and shambling buildings lining the path housed the town’s poorer residents, as well as a variety of interesting establishments with names like The Dirty Horn, The Slippery Weasel, My Lady’s Chamber, and The Wayward Widow. Like most port towns, Winchelsea offered a variety of entertainments for the sailors and travelers looking for a bit of fun.
Victor was headed for the Bird in Hand, which specialized in young ladies that resembled famous and noble women past and present. There was a Cleopatra, a Helen of Troy, and even a fiery, redheaded Queen Eleanor. There was a saucy version of his aunt, Helisende, Countess of Hastings, who he studiously avoided, even though she teased him relentlessly when she realized who he was. And, of course, there was a Lady Isabella de Vere along with her three “daughters,” Carenza, Alais, and Iselda. After looking over the offerings of the house, he was embarrassed to find himself inexorably drawn to “Alais,” though he insisted on calling her by her given name, Jane.
Like her supposed namesake, Jane was flirtatious and saucy, but in contrast to the real Alais, she was quite kind to Victor. She looked remarkably like the real Lady Alais with her chestnut tresses, soft brown eyes, and her generous figure. She blew him kisses with her full, red lips whenever she saw him.
Victor had to admit he had a definite type, and Lady Alais de Vere, unfortunately, was his ideal made flesh. If he was going tobe forced to spend his days with Lady Alais, at least he could find some relief with Jane for the torture he would have to endure.
Jane took him by the hand and led him upstairs with a smile.
“What’s your pleasure today, my lady?” he asked, kissing her hand.
“Do you know no one else ever asks me that, my lord? The other ladies don’t know what they are missing,” she said with a sultry smile as she ran her hands over his buttocks.
“Hmph. Well, I live to serve.” He nibbled on her ear.
Opening a door to one of the compact rooms, she drew him inside. “You are an unusual man.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He closed the door firmly behind them, ignoring the sighs and moans coming from neighboring rooms. “But you haven’t answered my question. Fingers, tongue, or cock?”
She whispered “tongue” in his ear, and he readily complied, making her melt and tremble with unfeigned pleasure before he would take any of his own. It had always been this way for him. He needed to see pleasure to take it. It had been frustrating when he was young, but he’d come to accept it and over time even appreciate the dedication and creativity it required of him. He had accumulated an extensive knowledge of female pleasure and used it to great effect when given the opportunity. He rather regretted that these days he only used his talents to pleasure prostitutes so they could pleasure him in return.It might be nice to thoroughly please a lover, or perhaps, even a wife.
He frowned. Where did that thought come from?
“You look sad, my lord. Were you not satisfied?”
