Chapter Three #2
It was like throwing water on a fire. The woman eyed him, not nearly so angry as she had been. But frustration lingered.
“I have no idea how much was stolen from me because of your carelessness,” she said, looking around to see the woman with the copper-colored hair and a second woman, petite and skittish, as they collected the coins from the road and from people who had tried to take some.
“I had almost three pounds and a pence.”
Kress nodded patiently. “Count your money,” he said. “Whatever is missing, I will reimburse you. I hope that will atone for my clumsiness.”
He was being completely submissive, which served to cool her anger further.
Surely the woman couldn’t be so furious with a man who had offered to return missing money to her from his own pocket.
She still wasn’t completely happy, but at least she wasn’t being outright belligerent any longer. His calm, even tone had done the trick.
“That is the least you can do,” she said, holding out her hands as her companions came near, dropping handfuls of coins into her open palms. As the coins tinkled against each other, she eyed him a moment, looking him over. “I have never seen you before in town. Where are you from?”
Kress fought off a smile. So the pretty little thing was curious about him, was she? That was good, because so was he – about her.
“London,” he said. “Do you live in town?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “We were visiting the church.”
Kress noticed the two companions dropping coins into her hands and realized that one of them, the petite lass, had one of those prayer cards in her hands.
“Is it a feast day today?” he asked. “A local saint that is known only to those in Norfolk?”
The woman looked at him curiously. “Nay,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
He pointed to the wooden shingle that the woman’s companion was holding. “Because we saw women all over town with those prayer cards, acting in a strange manner,” he said. “We thought it was something local to Lynn.”
As the tall lass with the copper curls cleared her throat unhappily, the blonde looked up at Kress and the anger that had so recently creased her brow now morphed into something else. Humor, he thought. Whatever it was, her mood had changed quickly and the dark eyes glimmered.
“Those are not prayer cards,” she said. “They are something else.”
“What else?”
She grinned, revealing two big dimples, one in each cheek, and Kress felt his heart race at the sight. “It is most shocking,” she said. “I am not for certain that I should tell you.”
“You should not tell him, my lady,” the lass with the copper curls spoke up. “It is not for men to know.”
Kress glanced at the woman with the copper hair. She was tall, and had quite a strike, as she’d proven. There was something almost masculine about her, although she looked like a right and pretty young woman. Still… there wasn’t all soft femininity there.
“So it is some kind of woman’s feast day?” he asked, returning his attention to the blonde in the hope she would tell him. “The card is only for women?”
The blonde nodded, though it was clear she wasn’t telling him everything. “It is,” she said. She eyed him again in a most appraising way. “If I tell you, then you must swear on your oath as a knight that you cannot tell a soul.”
Kress was intrigued by a conversation that was turning slightly flirtatious. “I swear.”
“First, you must tell me your name.”
“Sir Kress de Rhydian, my lady,” he said without hesitation. Then, he indicated the men behind him, in order. “This is Sir Bric MacRohan, Sir Achilles de Dere, and Sir Alexander de Sherrington. May we know your name, my lady?”
“Nay.” The tall woman with the copper-colored curls stepped forward, putting herself between the blonde and the knights. Now she was being firm and unfriendly. “It is unseemly for the lady to introduce herself to you in public. You men will be on your way.”
Kress studied the woman for a moment, trying to decide whether to intimidate her into shrinking away or simply agreeing with her statement.
She was correct, in truth. It wasn’t proper for a lady to introduce herself to a man, much less do it in public.
He didn’t want to seem like a cad, or uncivilized, so unfortunately, he knew what the best course of action was.
He would have to surrender.
His gaze returned to the blonde.
“Your companion is correct, my lady,” he said. “It was bold of me to ask. Forgive me.”
The blonde was looking at him, a smile playing on her lips. “Mayhap another time, Sir Kress,” she said. “I am in town every week, where I attend mass with my lady. Mayhap she will introduce me to you should we meet again.”
Kress grinned. “Then I shall have to return to Lynn and discover the identity of a beautiful young woman,” he said. “And have no doubt that I will return.”
She smiled, the dimples deep in her cheeks. “Until then.”
“Until then.” Kress lifted a gloved hand, pointing to the coins in her hand. “Are you going to count the coins and tell me what I owe you?”
She shrugged, rather carelessly. “If I tell you now, you will have no excuse to return.”
His grin broadened. “You are quite correct,” he said. “How foolish of me not to think of that.”
Tipping his head at the lady in a gallant gesture, he deftly mounted his horse and gathered the reins, but the entire time his focus was on the lady.
He was quite intrigued by her and knew that when his task was finished, he would most definitely return to Lynn in search of the lovely young woman with the pearl ribbons in her hair.
There was something about her that had his attention.
As he directed his horse past her and her companions, the young woman suddenly yanked the card out of her friend’s hand and rushed to him, handing him the card as he passed by.
Kress smiled as he took it, depositing a sweet kiss on it to show her that he treasured the gift and the gesture.
He kept turning to look at her, as much as he could with the full protection he was wearing, until they turned the corner and she faded from sight.
It had been a most unexpected, and impressive, encounter.
Thoughts of the blonde beauty lingered on his mind, so much so that Bric had to ask him what was on the card.
Almost as if he’d forgotten about it, Kress held it up to read it, seeing the lovely scrollwork before he even got to the words.
It certainly looked like a prayer card. But once he read the lewd poem on it, he was shocked to realize that it wasn’t.
The card made it to Bric, Achilles, and finally Alexander, all of them greatly surprised by a prayer card that mentioned a man’s lips against a woman’s nipple.
No wonder the women in town had been swooning.
Alexander laughed so hard at the poem that he nearly fell from his horse.