Page 5 of Promises Made at Midnight
Bridgette strolled across the grass holding a pitcher of ice water. It was one of those hot, humid Michigan summer days that one never gets used to, especially wearing a lot of heavy costuming. Her long serviceable brown dress was nothing compared to what the men wore. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel roasting from the heat in armor, chainmail, or heavy leather while performing for the crowd. There was no sense in complaining about the heat. She didn’t have to do this and could just be one of the tourists in shorts and tank tops instead, but what fun would that be?
She really did love every aspect of this weekend with the exception of one. Brad… Megan had been right when she said he would seek her out. Everywhere she turned, he showed up. Didn’t he have better things to do than follow her every move? There were plenty of other women just vying for his attention. But time and time again, she would look up, from whichever cup she was filling, to find him staring at her. It was becoming a bit unnerving and annoying… the damn stalker!
Eager hands reached for the pewter cups attached to their belts and thrust them in her direction. She filled them with a welcoming smile, knowing she was able to offer them a brief bit of relief from the heat.
“My thanks,” one gentleman said with a nod of gratitude.
“You are most welcome, milord,” Bridgette responded, staying in character and giving a brief curtsey.
As she made her way back to the tent of the St. Christopher’s guild, she saw Megan picnicking on a blanket under the shade of a tall oak tree. It was one of those picture-perfect moments of several ladies taking their ease that would have been seen in days of old during the renaissance era. Megan gave her a small smile and one of those annoying smug looks.No worries, she thought,tomorrow it’s my turn and Megan can be the servant!
Setting the pitcher on a nearby table and seeing that everyone was relaxing, Bridgette decided now was as good a time as any to take a much-needed bathroom break. Leaving the tent, she rounded the corner and found herself captured in a tight embrace. The man’s armor dug into her sides while she squirmed to free herself.
“Get your hands off me, Brad,” Bridgette warned, giving his chest a push. She didn’t even have to look up into his face to know who held her. She was at a disadvantage, although there were enough people nearby who would come to her aid if she called out for help.
He let her go, reluctantly, but still kept a hold of her elbow. “Hello, my lady,” Brad said in that seductive tone that, at one point in their brief relationship, would have sent her heart flipping end over end. Luckily, the spell he had momentarily wrapped around her heart had long since disappeared.
“If you would care to look at my dress, you would know that I am a mere servant today,” she retorted hotly.
“No matter. You are here with me now,” he leaned forward to whisper for her hearing alone, “and I don’t give a rat’s ass how you’re dressed for now, only that you get undressed.”
“You disgust me,” she huffed, yanking her arm and stepping back from him.
He smoothed a lock his hair away from his brow. He smiled, before performing a courtly bow when a woman passing by whistled at him and he followed her with his eyes. His gaze appeared hungry, as though he was stripping the woman’s clothing from her body but, when she left his view, he turned his attention to Bridgette. Rocking on his heels, he gave her a smug look that told her he was satisfied that at least someone appreciated his good looks. “You didn’t always think so,” he finally replied, to carry on their conversation as if he hadn’t just ogled another woman right in front of her.
“Lucky for me, I realized fairly quickly that, beneath the armor, there’s nothing chivalrous about you, let alone anything else that would convince me to continue having a relationship with you,” she answered smugly.
“Always the romantic, aren’t you, Bridgette,” he replied, looking her up and down once more. “Besides… we don’t have to be in a relationship for what I have in mind. There’s nothing wrong with the two of us being friends with benefits.”
Bridgette threw up her hands. “Andthat’sexactly why I don’t want anything to do with you, Brad. You really don’t know me at all if you think I’d agree to something like that. I want a gentleman who will be faithful and love me for the rest of his life, not some meaningless fling. Go find someone else who will fall into your charms. I’m done with you. Now leave me alone.”
She left him there sputtering and cursing her name. She could care less, considering she had a more pressing need to fulfill. She began heading in the direction of the bathrooms when an elderly lady fell into step with her. White hair, wrinkles around her sparkling blue eyes, and a kindly face reminded her of her own dear grandmother, who had passed away many years ago.
“Good day tae ye, my dear,” the woman whispered.
Her voice, when she spoke, had a far-off kind of melody to it. The strange sing-song quality was surprising to Bridgette, since the woman was standing right next to her. Even the tone was more Scottish than medieval English. “And the same to you, milady,” Bridgette answered politely.
The woman came to stand next to Bridgette when she took her place in line. She was further startled when the woman placed her hand on Bridgette’s forearm.
“Ye have been verra busy this morn,” she said and there was no mistaking her Scottish accent.
Bridgette leaned over. “This is the renaissance fair, madam. The Highland games are in another two weeks,” she said, whispering in the woman’s ear to politely correct the woman’s dialect.
The lady gave a cheerful laugh. “Oh, aye, I am well aware of the times in which we are, dearie. Dinnae fash yerself, Bridgette.
Bridgette wracked her brain, trying to remember where she had met the woman next to her, but for the life of her she hadn’t a clue. “Have we met before? I’m afraid I don’t remember your name.”
The woman’s brow rose. “Ye be breaking character, dear girl.”
Damn,she thought,I broke the cardinal rule of the part I play. Never, ever, break character even if you’re standing in line for the john.She was about to apologize when the woman starting patting her arm as if she understood.
“’Tis alright. Do ye not kin why ye are here?” she asked, with a bright smile.
Bridgette looked at the line in front of her. Her reason for standing in her current location was the same as every other woman in front and behind her. Nature called and she refused to use the men’s room where there wasn’t a line with no one waiting to enter. She had gone twenty-five years without resorting to such drastic measures. She wasn’t about to lower her standards just so she could take care of her personal business.
Realizing the woman was still waiting for her answer, she leaned forward again. “Of course, I know why I’m here. It’s the same reason we’re all standing here,” she replied kindly.
“Oh, I do not think so, my dear. I am here fer a particular purpose but ’tis not for the motive ye may think. Needless tae say, ye, too, shall know that everything has its time and place. Yer wishes have been heard, dearest Bridgette,” she said, convincingly. The woman’s answer again sounded as if it was carried on the wind.
