Page 11 of Promises Made at Midnight
Confusion wracked her head, making her dizzy. What had happened?
“My lady? My lady, can you hear me?” There was no mistaking the deep baritone voice that was obviously male and full of concern.
Bridgette slowly opened her eyes to reveal a man hovering above her. A halo of sunlight surrounded his head, almost making him appear as if he was one of God’s own angels. As she became aware of her surroundings and her vision began to clear, she wondered how on earth she ended up on the ground.
“What happened?” she inquired, while an overwhelming sensation of being completely out of place rushed through her. She sat up, and the man gently took her elbow to assist her to stand upright on wobbly feet. Her eyes swept the immediate area. It was no wonder she was feeling out of sorts. Nothing looked familiar. “Where am I?”
The man’s brows furrowed at her question but answered carefully. “At the village faire, my lady, in Berwyck.”
Bridgette mulled over his answer, still puzzled. “That must be a new one. I didn’t realize they were giving these events an actual location name.”
“I know not of what you speak, my lady,” the man replied, with a furrowed brow.
She waved him off, trying to get her bearings. She began dusting off her gown, still feeling disoriented. “That’s okay. What the hell happened?” she asked again. “God damn, what a day I’m having.”
“My lady!” The gentleman’s voice was clearly chastising her for her language.
She watched him make the sign of the cross and gave a heavy sigh. Once again, she had screwed up by not staying in character. If she didn’t watch herself, she’d go and get herself booted from the acting guild. “My apologies, good sir. I seem to be out of sorts,” she replied trying to get back into her role.
“I understand,” he murmured, but his voice didn’t sound convincing to her ears. “Mayhap you should take your ease over yonder, if you can make it that far.”
Bridgette gave a brief nod. He followed her a short distance from where she had fallen and pointed to a log.Where is that delightful bench I was sitting on?She rubbed her eyes, trying to get them to focus properly. As they opened again, the world seemed to spin before her vision. Reaching out, she clasped the arm of her rescuer.
The world righted itself again and she at last focused fully on the man… or rather knight… who stood before her, rather impatiently. He looked familiar, as though the statue had come to life. Had she really stumbled into the guy who had modeled for the sculpture?
Her mouth hung open. She was most likely appearing extremely rude and impolite. But it wasn’t her fault she was gawking. The man’s handsome ruggedness practically begged her to squeal outtake me now!He towered over her own small stature. Dark black hair with hints of brown hung to his shoulders, almost asking her to reach out to caress its length. Vivid blue eyes were set in a tanned face with chiseled cheekbones, a firm-looking square jaw, and a nose that now appeared as though it had been broken a time or two. This, naturally, only added to her initial attraction to him. His facial features reminded her of a Roman soldier of old.
She continued her assessment. Broad shoulders were barely hidden beneath a dark red cape that fluttered behind him in the afternoon breeze. A well-made tunic of dark blue closely covered his muscular chest. The slightly curved neckline offered her the briefest glimpse of his chest hair, and she had to ball her fingers into a tight fist to prevent her from doing the unthinkable, like reaching out to actually caress a total stranger.
Her gaze went lower, but that was an absolute mistake, as she saw the rest of him was just as perfectly shaped. His costuming was impeccable and, once her senses returned to normal, she’d have to ask where he had had them made. He must be an athlete because, for the life of her, she couldn’t see that there was an ounce of fat on his body. She began to wonder if his flat abdomen would contain a six or eight pack of ripples if he stood before her without his shirt.
She took her time as her gaze traveled back up the length of him because, honestly, what was there not to appreciate with the fine specimen before her? When she at last made her way back up to his face, she encountered a roguish grin.Good lord… had she really openly ogled him like that? His twinkling eyes held a mischievous glint, as though he was completely aware of his effect on her and the beginnings of a rosy blush crept its way across her cheeks. She wouldn’t think of how the rest of her body became flushed when he now started his own assessment. He chuckled as though he knew where her thoughts had taken her.
“Sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” she murmured in embarrassment.
“There is no need to apologize, my lady,” he answered politely, waving again to the log. “Please, take your ease.”
“Thanks.” Bridgette sat and waited for him to sit next to her on the vacant space. He remained standing. “I’m Bridgette.” She offered her hand by way of a greeting. Considering she had just practically stripped the man naked with her eyes, she felt she should at the very least offer her name to the guy.
He stood there, only staring at her outstretched arm, until she placed her hands in her lap. She almost slapped her forehead. She had once more forgotten where she was. She sure hoped no one from the guild was keeping an eye on her. She’d be sacked for sure!
“Lady Bridgette of…” His voice trailed off as he waited for her to finish her name.
“Oops… sorry.” She cleared her throat as she continued. “Bridgette Harris.” She stood quickly, gave a quick curtsey, and sat back down.
He performed a courtly bow that would rival anything she had ever seen on a stage. “Sir Ulrick de Mohan, currently of Berwyck, my lady, and at your service.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Sir Ulrick,” she said, keeping a smile on her face. Ulrick…What an unusual name, she thought. And usingde Mohan?Must be a stage name, since it sounded very old fashioned.
“And I you, Lady Bridgette.” He stood tall again and looked around. “Where are your attendants?” he inquired as he widened his stance and folded his arms across his massive chest.
Bridgette smiled, since it was clear he, too, wanted to continue to play his part at the fair. “I am one of the Queen’s ladies in waiting,” she answered, with a confidence she was back in her role.
Was it her imagination, or did Ulrick’s face lose a bit of color? “Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine is here?Merde, I was not aware King Henry had released his queen from prison and would travel this far north at this time of year,” he stated, clearly ill at ease.
She gave a merry laugh. “You must be at the wrong fair, good sir. I am with the Tudor Queen.”
“Tudor? I know not of such a queen by that name.”
