Warrior's Moon A Love Story (15 page)

As she lay there thinking, the moon finally appeared through the small window and she looked back up at its pale glow and somehow felt reassured.  Peyton was there, just east somewhere, under this same moon.  And he was strong and wise and willing to give even his very life if needed to preserve the astute and kind leadership of King Dougal.  In addition, there were many with Peyton, protecting the king and the people.  If the citizens like herself aligned themselves with those honorable men, what couldn’t be accomplished and protected, with God’s help, of course.

She turned back over and closed her eyes.  Right would prevail.  It would.  God would protect those men of character and honor, and the citizens as well.  She merely needed to be strong and do whatever small measure she could to support them.  It mightn’t be much, but she would do what she could.

             
                                         
Chapter 10

A drop of blood dripped from inside the cuff of his tunic near his wrist onto the white linen of the table clothe and slowly spread through the fabric, looking like more than the mere drop it had been.  He concentrated on keeping his face impassive and discreetly gripped his left forearm to put pressure back on the bandage his new squire Shaun had placed there earlier.  It hadn’t been that impressive of a cut he’d acquired in the competition earlier.  He had no idea why it insisted on continuing to bleed as it had. 

He calmly looked to his left to see if the princess had noticed the drop of blood and then slid the base of his pewter goblet over to cover the brilliant red blotch.  He’d won the honor of being seated next to the princess for the evening banquet, but now that he was here, he almost wished he hadn’t.  ‘Twas quite disconcerting to have to remember all the protocols, especially when the princess’s subtle and sometimes not so subtle innuendos and behavior near made him forget everything but the need to put distance between the two of them.

At that very moment, she put her foot over to touch him under the table and he glanced up at her.  She gave him a smile that left little doubt but that she wasn’t going to be
stopping the seemingly endless attempts to get his attention anytime soon. 

It had started that day in the village and had gone from that first lingering look to these much more overt physical encounters that he had absolutely no idea how to counter.  What was this girl thinking?  He was a knight, not a nobleman, and barely a knight at that!  The ceremony had only taken place that very afternoon.  If she kept this up, the girl was going to get him beheaded!

He moved his legs to his right, away from the flirtatious princess, let go of his forearm and picked up his fork again, not giving any other outward sign that he’d felt her nudge under the table.  This dinner had already lasted for the better part of an hour and they hadn’t even brought out the main course yet.  He looked down at the poorly seasoned soup that sat before him and wished once again that he could go home to see Chantaya.  She made far the better soup and would never have put her foot on him under the table.

Stifling a sigh, he picked up the goblet again in his left hand and then regretted it as another drop of blood stained the table clothe just beside the first. 

The princess noticed it this time and looked at him in concern and immediately stood and put a hand on his arm and said, “Sir Peyton!  You’re bleeding!”

He tried to smile, despite the fact that he wanted to swear and stood as well to be respectful; wishing he’d had a course from Sir Kendall on how to politely thwart a fickle young noble’s affections.  The princess’s pretty brow puckered with a grimace of concern and she moved her hand on his arm to better see the blood that was now seeping through the sleeve of his tunic.  Her face paled noticeably at the sight of it and
Peyton began to worry the girl would swoon on him, in addition to being overly flirtatious with him.

Instead of fainting, she looked up at him and said quite imperiously, “This must be attended to at once!  Come, Sir Peyton.  I will have the physician summoned immediately.”  Gathering her elegant skirts in her hand, she fairly pushed him ahead of her toward an arched doorway at the side of the great hall to their left and Peyton tried to smile reassuringly at the other guests who were watching him leave with the princess. 

She led him along a stone hallway and through a doorway beyond.  In a drawing room of some sort she began to unfasten the cuff at his wrist.  He glanced around, wishing for some miraculous intervention to help him avoid her attempting one of those inane dalliances he and Matthew had jested about, but alas, there was nothing.  She and he were completely alone in some out of the way area of the castle.

With his sleeve unfastened and cuffed up, she began to pull at the bandage that covered his arm, but he stopped her.  He didn’t need a physician.  The wound had already been seen to.  It simply needed pressure applied more steadily than he’d been able to as he was preparing for this banquet.  She continued to pull at his arm and he said as diplomatically as possible, “It truly is fine, Princess.  But a scratch.  By tonight it will be forgotten.” 

She shook her head.  “No.  It’s bleeding terribly.  You must sit and relax, Sir Peyton.”  She indicated a large padded chair.  “Sit here and place the arm just so and I’ll have a look at it.”

He didn’t want to sit, yet he didn’t want to offend her either and glanced around once again in hopes of some intrusion.  She saw his glance and gave him a sultry smile and
said, “You needn’t worry about someone bothering us.  We’re quite removed from the others.  Only my family comes here and they are all back in the great hall.  You may rest assured we won’t be interrupted.”

That was exactly what he was concerned about.  He sat and even elevated his arm, but kept his other hand securely clamped around the wound to both keep pressure and to prevent the princess from removing the bandage.  He needed to keep it intact in order to be able to escape as soon as he figured out just how to do that diplomatically.

That plan changed as the princess took his clamped hand in both of hers and began to rub it in a guise that she was trying to make him let go.  It worked.  He let go of the bandage with alacrity to move his hand clear to the other side of the chair from her.  She seemed to think his hesitancy to let her touch him was humorous as she went back to untying the ends of the wrap with a small smile on her face.

For a moment, she picked at the bandage in a silence that made Peyton even more uncomfortable, and then he was horrified to hear her say almost conversationally, “This would be a most opportune moment for you to kiss me.  Would it not?”

He quickly looked up into her smiling face and finally decided he needed to handle this situation once and for all, even if it did put him in danger of offending the crown.  Shaking his head with an apologetic look, he replied gently, “Highness, I am but a humble soldier.  You are princess of the kingdom.  One such as I could never even consider such an offense to your position.  ‘Twould be unthinkable.”

She merely tipped her head coyly and continued her tempting, “Ah, but what if you knew I wished it anyway?”

Giving one more slow head shake, he replied calmly, “Princess, I am confident you would never wish to be so intimate with one such as I.”

Rolling her eyes, she let go of the bandage she was fiddling with and straightened to look at him, but he only met her gaze evenly.  That seemed to frustrate her and she gave the daintiest stomp with her satin slipper and smiled and said, “Sir Peyton, stop being obtuse and kiss me this minute!  I demand it!  I
am
princess, and I can have whatever I want!”

Still watching her, he simply said, “No, Your Highness.  Please forgive me, but I cannot.  It’s not my place.”

She gave a pretty little grimace of surprise.  “But I have just given you an order!”

With another apologetic half smile, he said, “Your father trusts me.”

“My father will never know!”

He shook his head again.  “But I am worthy of your father’s trust.”

She gave a small sound of outrage and turned to him in full haughty royalty.  “You’ll do as you’ve been told, Sir Peyton, or I shall tell my father that you tried to take advantage of me!  Would you disobey me at the price of your life?”

Peyton struggled not to roll his own eyes at the incongruity of her accusation as he said in an infinitely gentle voice, “Princess, you don’t understand.  I would fight to the death in battle to protect you and your virtue.  I could certainly do no less here in your own home.  Pray forgive me for being disobedient, but I cannot kiss you.  ‘Twould not be honorable.  Tell your father an untruth at the price of my life if you must.  I’m sorry.”

For a long moment, she stared into his eyes and then turned aside to go back to working over his bandage, as she said almost too quietly to hear, “Drat your honor anyway, Sir Peyton.  ‘Tis no fun at all.” 

“No.  I suppose not.  Pray forgive me.”

She fair yanked at the ends of the bandage.  “No.  I’ll not forgive you.  You’re a beast to me!”

They both looked up at the sudden sound of chuckling to find Prince Laird standing casually against the doorway across the room.  He laughed and shook his head and said, “A beast?  You call that a beast?  You’re nothing but a spoiled brat of a princess.  You threatened him with his life!  That is the lowest, most disreputable thing I’ve ever heard!  And him not even here long enough to know you would never have done it.  I think I’m going to tell Father just to see him warm your bloomers for such treachery!”

She tossed her head and turned her back to him and spat, “You wouldn’t dare and you know he wouldn’t raise a hand to me at any rate.  It’s rude to spy on people.  Your manners are atrocious!  And don’t you dare speak of my being spanked in front of a visitor!”

“A visitor who you threatened with beheading for a kiss!  You ought to be spanked and much worse!”

At this, she turned on her brother.  “Well, he obviously preferred death over my sweet berry lips, so pray, leave me alone!”

Peyton had no idea how to deal with the two of them and felt terribly guilty for embarrassing her in front of her brother who bent over laughing and finally said, “Death would definitely be preferable to having to kiss an imperious troll.  Sir Peyton was simply demonstrating the proper judgment of a knight.”

“Death would also be preferable to having you for a brother!  You’re pure beastly!  Go back to the banquet and leave us be.”

Prince Laird laughed again.  “I thought you said he was the one being beastly.  And it didn’t sound to me like he was ever going to break down and kiss you.  You might as well give up begging and go back yourself.  Perhaps Sir Peyton would prefer to stay here with me and laugh about you.”

She glared at Prince Laird, but still appeared to be winding down as she said sadly, “No.  He’s far too honorable for kissing, or laughing behind one’s back either.  You’ll soon see.  He’s a complete saint.  It’s incredibly deflating.  I believe I will go back.  See to it his wound is properly cared for will you?  There truly was a reason I brought him in here.”

Peyton felt even guiltier, but her brother didn’t seem to as he continued to tease her, saying, “Beyond seduction, you mean?”

She rolled her eyes.  “A kiss is hardly seduction.  You’re making me sound like a trollop.  He’ll think even less of me.  And if I have to go back to that tasteless potage then so do you.”

“I didn’t leave dragging a victim like you did.  No one will think a thing of me slipping out.”

“Oh, pray, give it a holiday, Laird.” 

With that, she turned back toward the door, but Peyton stepped forward to go to a knee in front of her.  He was indescribably grateful for Prince Laird’s comic relief, but he hadn’t truly meant to humiliate the poor, foolish princess.  Trying to make some semblance of amends, he said, “Please forgive me my beastliness, Your Highness.  In truth, I was trying to tell you that you were far too pre
cious to be so treated—not that I would prefer death to your sweet berry lips.  Indeed, I’m pure certain a single kiss from you would be worth dying for.  As I am also certain I am unworthy of such an immeasurable honor.”  He bowed his head as he finished in what he hoped was an indication of respect.

She put a gentle hand onto his head and said surprisingly meekly, “You’re sweet, Sir Peyton.  You’re still a beast, but you’re a sweet one.  See to your arm and come back and eat your supper, as nondescript as that soup was.  I’m sure those paltry bits didn’t fill up a man of your stature.” 

As she swept out the door, she said to Prince Laird, “See to his wound, brother.  It truly was bleeding pure over the table out there.”

When the two men were alone, Prince Laird began to laugh again and Peyton looked askance of him as he reached to begin rewrapping the wound on his forearm.  Unsure of how to treat the young royal in such a circumstance, Peyton was surprised when the prince went right back to the teasing banter when he said, “That was a truly impressive show of ingratiation.  I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such a smooth buttering of tender feminine sensibilities.  You’re either the saint she was speaking of, or a complete rake.”

Shaking his head, Peyton said, “I’m no saint.  Surely.”  With a grin, he asked, “Which is worse?  A sweet beast or a complete rake?”

“I imagine that would depend on whether there’s a disgruntled princess involved.  At least you’re not to be hanged or beheaded in the morning.  Don’t worry.  Other than being embarrassed for the next twenty two times she sees you, she’ll live.  In fact, you’ve probably imbedded yourself permanently into her heart with that sweet bended knee speech.  ‘Twas too touching.  Truly.”

Peyton ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.  “Would that I had someone to give me direction in all things female.”  He bent to use his teeth to tie off the bandage ends.

The
prince asked, “You had no trolls—I mean sisters, then?”

Peyton had to work not to grin at his description of sisters before he said, “No.  Although, there was a neighbor girl so close she seemed one.  Especially when she was small.”