Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time) (12 page)

"What has your back up, Elinor? It's not because I said you behaved like a wanton. If that had been the reason you'd have told me I was all wet and gone about your business, you often do."

“Fine, you’re all wet.” She got up and poured a glass of wine. She grabbed a book from the mantle and sat in another chair, pretending to read.

Basil pressed on. "There's a strange pattern to your ire, and I think it's related to my past. The more I tell you, the more piqued you become. Why is that, I wonder?"

Her refusal to spare him even a cursory glance while she pretended to read failed. He was so damn full of himself she couldn't let the conversation go.

"You say Jeremy warrants a flogging for fondling me, then it's logical I do too since I didn’t stop him. Tell me, do you think it's all right to beat a woman?"

"I’ve met some who would benefit from a thrashing. But no, I don't feel it's right for a man to strike a woman, even if she deserves it." He looked away briefly, "I didn't beat my betrothed, even after I discovered she'd given herself to another man while I attended to matters at court."

Anger and hurt washed over Elinor. Basil had been engaged. For some inexplicable reason she felt betrayed. He was a ghost, yes, but he was
her ghost.
It was easy to talk about his life and see him as a noble knight he’d been. Even envisioning him surrounded by beautiful women wasn't difficult to accept. But picturing him with a specific woman, the woman who'd have his children, who'd grow old with him, was another thing entirely.

"You were betrothed? You were going to be married?" Questions tumbled out. Her voice notched higher and she lost the battle to discuss his fiancé with any logic. "You said you didn't believe in love. Did you love her?"

"There was never any love between us,” he said in a flat tone. “She was a well bred lady and I had no quarrel with the negotiations between our families. I required a wife who'd be able to run my large household and provide an heir. She seemed capable. If our coupling proved less than adequate, I could satisfy my needs elsewhere."

"What did she look like?" Elinor already knew the answer. A man like Basil wouldn't be engaged to anyone less than a raving beauty. The thought nagged at her.

"I find it odd to speak of her. It has been such a very long time and I rarely thought of her when I lived." He closed his eyes, a deep furrow formed between his brows. "Fair of face, she had blue eyes or green, light anyway, and blonde curls to her waist. I recall her skin appeared...I believe the word you’d use today is translucent. Perfect really."

"What was her name?"

"Gwendolyn," Basil said, opening his eyes.

"Gwendolyn,"
Elinor repeated the name in a sugary voice.

The fact that Gwendolyn was peaches and cream fair to Elinor's more Mediterranean appearance fueled her feelings of betrayal. Her hurt was childish and silly, but she didn't care. "Why do men always want blondes? What is it about them that sets men all atwitter? Stick big breasts on them and you're hopeless!"

Basil fixed a look on her so hard Elinor turned away and tried to focus on the book in her lap. When she braved a glance up, he sat smirking.

"Elinor, are you jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Why would I be jealous of some woman who's been dead for over six hundred years?" Elinor wasn't sure what she felt, but it certainly wasn't jealousy. "Why would it matter to me if you married? I’m surprised, that's all. You don't seem the marrying kind."

"Why does Gwendolyn's prettiness offend you?"

Elinor squirmed under Basil's analytical scrutiny.

"Do you not believe yourself comely?"

She stared at her book, her eyes not moving, fingers not turning the pages.

Basil leaned into her line of sight and kept leaning until she grumbled and closed the book. "Your lovely russet hair catches the golden light of the sun. You have a full mouth that invites a man's kiss, even when you stick your lower lip out, as you are now. Although rather French, the beauty dot by your lovely lips is most pleasing. Surely, you must know how extraordinary your eyes are. Like a changelings, they go from deep green to near gold, depending on your mood. Your breasts are lovely, creamy and firm; they sit nice and high."

Elinor sat quiet for a moment thinking about what he'd said. "When did you see my breasts? Have you watched me dress?"

"Only once. By accident." Basil didn’t elaborate.

"That's voyeuristic." Part of her was flattered, but she certainly wasn't going to tell him. No, she should be angry with him and was-or so she told herself. Her inner voice whispered she was really angry because of Gwendolyn. A fact she didn’t feel the need to address in front of Basil.

"What about you?" She twisted to face Guy and with her best school teacher, disciplinarian mien, "Have you also watched?"

Guy jumped at her sudden query. Looking guilty, but acting unashamed, he confessed, "I am no monk."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I might have seen you. I don't walk around with my eyes closed. It’s possible I have passed by when you left the shower."

From the corner of her eye she saw Basil make some frantic hand signals.

Guy went blithely on, "I find your body most appealing, although your bottom is not as round as I would prefer, a bit on the flat side. You do have fine legs, and I like your other little beauty mark, the one on your breast, quite intriguing." He smiled first at her, then at Basil.

Basil attempted to salvage the situation with what he must’ve considered the best of all possible compliments. "You have good hips for child birth. You are hale,” he looked over at Guy who encouraged him with a firm nod, “and hearty. A man knows he could make strong sons with you."

"Hearty? You find me hearty? Unbelievable! Both of you, stay out of my bathroom and my bedroom.” She glared at Basil. "And for the record, I'm not in the least hearty, you big toad." Elinor threw the book down and stomped upstairs, slamming the bedroom door.

Baffled, Basil shook his head. "She seems upset. Why? Did I not compliment her eyes, her hair, her breasts?"

He got up and walked to where Guy sat. "What are you doing?"

"Playing backgammon with myself. I rather like it, I'm winning." At the sound of Elinor's heavy footsteps, Guy tilted his head toward the ceiling.

Basil pulled a high back chair over to the table. "Reset the board, I'll play a round while her temper cools." He sat rubbing his chin as Guy set up the game. "Perhaps we missed something she wanted us to flatter her about, though I cannot think of anything we forgot."

"There are times you flatter a lady, yet she takes offense for no apparent reason. Since there's never any logic involved, a man can make no sensible argument or defense,” Guy said and rolled a four-three. “She becomes like a dog with a bone.” He brought two checkers down to midpoint, positioning for a quick blockade.

Risky and bold, this early in the game, Basil thought as he planned his strategy.

"If you try to show her the error in her thinking, you will find yourself like that bone my friend--shredded," Guy said, as Basil rolled his dice.

Elinor awoke the next morning still peeved. Basil’s reference to her as hearty trumped her unacknowledged jealousy over his engagement. “Hale and hearty,” the words were burned in her brain. How could the thick-headed dope think that was a compliment?

After a fast shower, she dried off at warp speed. Wrapped in the towel, she took a quick spin around her bedroom and the hall. If she felt the tiniest tingle or tickle on her skin, there was going to be big trouble for two ghosts. Satisfied she had privacy, she returned to the bedroom. She dropped the towel and stared at her naked reflection in the full length mirror. She turned to the right. “Not bad, tummy’s flat, titties firm and high,” she said, jiggling them. Then, facing front, “my hips look okay, no big bulges.” She lifted one arm to the side and wiggled it, “no bat wings, nothing wobbly,” she repeated the action with the other arm. She turned her backside to the mirror and groaned. “All right, not my best angle. It’s not a perky bum, flattish, but far from hearty.” With a sigh, she decided it served no purpose to dwell on the matter. The sun was out. The weather was beautiful. The woods seemed like a good place to relax. She dressed and headed that way.

****

Elinor sat cross-legged on a dry patch she found on the forest floor with a handful of walnuts. A grey squirrel watched her from a nearby alder tree. For several minutes, she held the nut out and made what she believed were excellent squirrel chirps. The grey hesitated at the base of the tree before scurrying over to sniff the offering. Deeming it suitable, he delicately removed it from her fingers and dashed off.

Out of the corner of her eye Elinor saw Basil appear. He sat down just as the grey hopped over to take another nut.

"Trusting little fellow."

“Yes, he came down rather fast considering they don't come in contact with many people." Elinor remained still so the squirrel wouldn't be scared off.

As though sensing Basil's ghostly presence, the squirrel laid his half-eaten walnut down and scampered over. He sniffed furiously, sat on his haunches and chittered at Basil. The noisy chirping continued for about a minute before he stopped and appeared to wait. Apparently concluding he wasn't going to get anything worthwhile, he showed his backside, gave his tail several hard shakes and scurried back to the walnut.

Elinor leaned close to Basil. "I believe there was a rude comment about you in that tail action."

"Probably still bears a grudge over the squirrel-trimmed cloak I gave my mother one year." He peered over Elinor's shoulder and noticed her little walnut pile.

Basil shifted so he knelt on one knee and pointed to the nuts in her hand. "Do you want to know an old custom of ours?"

"I'd love to."

He placed his hand over hers so she'd close her fingers. "We used acorns, but walnuts will do. You throw a handful into the air and make as many wishes as you can before the first one lands."

Elinor stood and threw upward as high as she could. The squirrel's ears perked as the nuts landed softly in the leaves. "I got three wishes in. I've never heard of that custom."

"I'd be surprised if you had. I just made it up. I needed to lure you away from your woodland friends so you’d go for a walk with me." Basil extended his hand, and they strolled along the bank of the stream.

The mist hung thicker and heavier in the places where the stream widened. The trees formed a canopy, thinning only where the spring sunlight filtered through. The alder leaves had a silver hue in the light, intermingling for a pretty mix with the greens of the oaks and ash. Surrounded by the forest’s neutral tones Elinor felt part of an artist’s watercolor.

They walked without speaking. Basil kept his hands clasped behind his back and the pace slow.

When he first sat down, she hadn't paid attention to his clothes. Now, as he got a few steps ahead, she noticed his white linen shirt and black breeches resembled the attire he'd tried to wear to the village. Were those breeches as formfitting and thigh hugging as the ones today? She'd been too nervous that day to take in all the details. Her gaze slid down his thighs where soft black boots came up to his knees. Elinor surreptitiously scanned his backside.
Oh yeah, you definitely benefited from all that time
in the saddle.

His hair was pulled back into a queue again only today he sported a small gold earring. In a million years she'd never have pictured Basil wearing an earring. Guy yes, Basil no. It suited him. He looked like a pirate, a very sexy movie pirate. She reluctantly broke off the lusty perusal before she got caught and embarrassed herself. Good thing too, because Basil turned to her a moment later.

"Last night you asked me whether I loved Gwendolyn. And by the way, I forgive you for your outrageous outburst. You seemed quite curious about her."