Authors: Midsummer Night's Desire
Chapter Twenty-Five
The flames in the wall sconces had burned down before Alandra heard footsteps outside her door. She had begun to believe that he would not come and her spirits had plummeted as visions of Christopher and the golden-haired lady had danced inside her head. A mixture of jealousy and apprehension had filled her, a fear that she might never see him again, that willingly or not he had ridden off with that tantalizing creature.
"Alandra! Alandra!"
The sound of knocking accompanied Nicholas's voice, scattering all her fears. Casting a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror, Alandra tried to still her trembling hands. Now that the moment was at hand, she was assailed with nervousness, wondering if she would have the fortitude to do and say what she had planned.
"Alandra, are you in there? Open the door. Don't play coy with me,
lass, I'm nigh onto starving."
Without further hesitation
, she opened the door. "Then by all means, Sir. Enter."
She gestured with a wide sweep of her hand towards the feast spread out upon the table; roast swan in orange sauce stuffed with almond dressing, p
igeon pie, plates of steaming vegetables seasoned with herbs, a small loaf of bread, and an assortment of fruit--apples, plums and pears. Two empty glasses seemed to be awaiting the bottle of wine that Nicholas had brought with him. Pushing quickly into the room, he soon had them filled.
"My lovely young prompter
, you certainly saved my skin today." Handing her a glass he grinned. "To the Lord Chamberlain's players and to us." He clinked his goblet against hers in a toast.
Alandra's voice was soft, but she looked him in the eye. "To the Lord Chamberlain's play
ers and to you, Christopher."
"I was apprehensive about how I had
done but Will Kempe, Lowin,Sly, and even Burbage congratulated me on my fine performance. It seems I have proved myself as an actor." He suddenly roared with laughter. "The two young actors who played Helena and Hermia have even asked me if I would coach
them
. They said 'twas obvious that I had studied with Edward Alleyn and wanted the chance to benefit from my experience. What a fine jest that is!"
Alandra did not join in his laughter, fearful Christopher's ego was in danger of being inflated to the danger point. He had
somehow managed to avert a total disaster, but he was far from being a good actor
"Do not get too puffed up with pride," she admonished. "
You were lucky this time. Next time it might be different!”
Nicholas's amusement sobered. "Your friend Will had words of caution for me
, too, but he did say that he thinks me to be a natural at acting, despite the mistakes I made today. And any word of praise from him is a welcome boon." He ran his hand over his clothing. "As a matter of fact 'twas Will who lent me this fine array of garments, knowing I had none of my own.” He slowly turned around so that she could admire his clothes. “He is much longer of leg than I and slimmer in the shoulders, but it is by half a goodly fit and I am beholding to him for his kindness."
Alandra let
her eyes appraise him. The candle and torch light emphasized the planes of his chiseled features, the mystifying depths of his gray eyes. In Will's black satin doublet and matching knee-length breeches he made a dashing figure, though she suspected Will's true purpose in giving him these garments had been to ascertain that he would blend with the others in the company and not draw undue attention to himself.
"Will has ever been a most generous man and one with whom I would trust my life. He seeks to be your friend." Alandra took three long gulps of h
er wine, letting it warm her.
"Then
from this day forward it is friend he shall be."
Crossing his arms, putting one foot up on a large stone of the hearth, he freely gazed at her, comparing her in his mind to Morgana. She looked especially pretty tonight
. Her gown of thin grey wool with a yoke of white pleated lawn that dipped in a v, exposed just a teasing view of her breasts. Her hair was also different, he noted, drawn atop her head in a style that was currently fashionable at court. It emphasized her long, slim neck. The open, standing collar and farthingale of her dress had been copied from the noblewomen.
He's staring at me
, Alandra thought,
as if my nose had suddenly turned upside down.
Yet there was a gleam in the depths of his eyes. Oh, but she wanted him to think that she was pretty.
"Shall we eat, Christopher?" Walking across the room with as gracefully as she could she took a seat at the
small, round table.
“Eat?” For just a moment he was dazed, but he quickly recovered and remembered his manners. “As you wish, my lady.” With a slight bow, he sat in the chair opposite her.
Ah, what a beauty she would be dressed in the finery of Queen Bess's hall, he thought. She could well rival any woman there, even Morgana. Her eyes alone threatened to enchant any man who gazed too long into their depths. Yet she was totally unaware of her own loveliness and this added intensely to her charm. Pray God she never grew whining and conceited like some of her sex whom he had known. A troublesome lot.
He looked away from her to concentrate upon the food so appetizingly placed before him. Although he was hungry, he hardly tasted the delicacies that passed his lips. He was just too fascinated with her.
A cocoon of enchantment enclosed them and as if they moved in slow motion, they noted infinite details about each other--gestures, expressions, posture, even sighs. The room was strangely silent as the meal continued. Both Nicholas and Alandra were suddenly ill-at ease, floundering for something to say, vitally aware of each other in the dimly lit chamber.
Nicholas
abruptly stood up and walked to the fireplace to start a fire, not because it was chilly but for something to do. He watched as if flared. "Alandra...." He shifted from foot to foot, his eyes straying to the large feather bed that loomed up like an inescapable temptation. Had she been another sort of woman she'd be lying on the mattress on her back by now.
"Yes, Christopher
...?" She waited expectantly, uneasy that he might have come to make a confession. Perhaps all was not as rosy as she supposed. It was true that he had come here and had thus passed her test, but the matter didn’t end there.
"The food. It..i
t was delicious," he blurted.
He’d hardly eaten a bite. "Yes, it was....."
Oh, Christopher, talk of anything but the food. Tell how soft my skin is, or that my eyes sparkle in the firelight, or that my lips remind you of the petals of a rose.
"I must admit that I've enjoyed my stay here at the inn. And with the actors."
And with you
, he thought but did not say.
Sitting down on the hearth stones
, he stretched out his lean, muscular legs, managing to look far more at east than he felt. He regretted having put the log on the fire, for it was suddenly getting much too hot in the room. He tugged at the ruff around his neck, wishing he could rip it off.
"And they with you." She didn't want to talk about Will a
nd the others at all. "Christopher?" Looking at her goblet, she longed for another glass of wine. Anything to give her courage. "I can never find the words to tell you how much I've enjoyed the time we've spent together...."
Nicholas was discomfited to find himself
wanting to kiss her, to hold her. Though he fought his desire for her, he could not help but think of how she had felt in his arms, how soft her mouth had been when he had kissed her. He was drawn to her like a moth to candlelight.
"And now we are together again. Alone." He returned to the table, trying to finish
his food, but he couldn't eat.
"Alone," she whispered. Their eyes met and held
conveying a silent message.
It was Nicholas who looked away. Dragging his fingers through his thick dark hair he frowned. "I...I must leave now that we have supped!" he said a bit too sharply, feeling the sudden need to get away.
Though they had often been alone in the wagon, there had been others close by. Now they were totally isolated within the room and that knowledge was too enticing.
"Leave? So soon?" Alandra's disappointment showed in her eyes. So he was going to
her
then.
"We'll be doing
Prince John
in Rye and I thought to get an early start on reading the play." He was uncomfortable in his lie.
"Bring the
pages here......"
He shook his head. Shoving his half empty plate away
, he stood up, deciding to tell her the truth. "No, that's not true. You're just too tempting, Alandra. The truth is that all this time I've been struggling with the fact that I desire you. Very much."
His forthrightness stunned
her and she dropped her spoon.
"Being here alone with you like this brings out my carnal
nature, I fear." He headed for the door but paused to look back at her. "I realize how difficult it would be to stop with a kiss.
"Perhaps I wouldn't want you to stop, Christopher." There, she had said it. The truth was ou
t and she was relieved that she had spoken what was in her heart. "I keep thinking of the rainstorm and the way you held me close. I liked it when your lips touched mine. I want you to kiss me again." She paused, waiting for his response, then rambled on. "If that is a brazen thing to say, then I am sorry. But truth is truth."
Her honesty was like a fresh
summer breeze bringing a smile to his lips. "Then it seems we are both of like mind. What then are we to do?"
In the fathomless depths of his eyes
, she saw a stirring of passion that drew her to him. Slowly she walked across the room.
She stroked his arm, and her touch was his undoing. All the passion he had kept so carefully controlled now burst forth. Compulsively, he moved close to her. His fingers traced along the line of her jaw, the contours of her face, then lightly he touched her lips.
"God's blood, la
ss, what you do to me."
Her head whirled
in a dizzying awareness of him as he captured her slender shoulders in his hands and drew her close against his chest. The length of his hard, muscular body felt hot against her own as he lowered his head to press his lips to hers. His kiss took her breath way. It was infinitely more pleasing than she had remembered. His tongue touching hers tasted of the wine they had sipped. Returning his kiss with an unrestrained abandon, she felt desire spread languidly through her body. It worked its way up from her knees to the top of her head. A warm, tingling feeling. She did not want him to stop, but wanted this to be the moment she had dreamed about.
Anxiously she waited to see what was to come. Moonlight and kisses was all she knew of love, though she was aware there was much more to it than that. As a child she had listened to the actors’ ribald stories when they thought she was abed, yet hearing about lovemaking and experiencing it were not the same at all. Definitely not!
Nicholas’s kiss went far beyond a mere touching of lips. His tongue searched the contours of her mouth in a gentle, exploring caress that intensified her newly found passion. Hesitantly at first, then with an increasing measure of boldness, she mimicked the gentle exploration of his lips and tongue, helpless against the powerful tide of passion that consumed her, a quivering sensation that shot through her body as she felt his hand slide down to cup the soft fullness of her breast.
How long he kissed her, she did not know, having lost all knowledge of time. Her world was in his arms, his nearness her only reality. Wrapping her arms around him, she ardently embraced him, pushing away her modesty, her fear, as her senses clamored for him. His kisses. How she liked his kisses.
Lifting his mouth from hers, Nicholas stared down into her flushed face, his breath coming quickly between his parted lips. He was totally ruled by his emotions, having the devil's own time resisting the temptation she presented. For all her tender years, she was most definitely a woman, one who affected him as few women ever had. She was warm and responsive in his arms, yet her eyes held the look of trusting innocence. He would have to be the world's most insensitive bastard to take advantage of her now.
"Christopher?" She pro
tested softly as he drew away.
"I told you once that I would not be satisfied
with kisses," he said harshly.
"I know..."
"I am a man, Alandra, not a beardless boy. What I'm thinking now might shock you, for my words of love are not for a maiden's ears." Reaching out he gently touched a stray curl. She was so damnably young! "I doubt you know much of passion."
"I know what I feel when you kiss me, touch me," she breathed
, more than slightly piqued that he might think of her as too naive. "I know quite well what it is you want to do. I've heard the actor's at their talk. And I'm not a child."