Chapter Four #3
With that, Peter took a big bite from his beef knuckle and wandered off, leaving Alexander standing there, watching Christin as she tried to get up.
But she couldn’t seem to sit up, so she rolled into her belly and rocked onto her hands and knees.
By that time, he pushed through the circle of women and lifted her up underneath her arms.
“Come along, my lady,” he said. “Let’s go find a place for you to sit down. Or lay down. Whichever you prefer.”
Christin was still giggling as she tried to walk but she wasn’t doing a very good job, so Alexander swept her up into his arms and carried her away from the dancing.
“Where are we going?” she asked, arms around his neck. “Truly, I am fine. I can walk.”
She probably could, but Alexander thought she felt quite good in his arms so he didn’t want to put her down.
“You must not drink very much, very often,” he said.
They walked past the food table and Christin ended up hanging over his shoulder, watching the food longingly as Alexander walked further and further away.
“I am very careful with what I drink,” she said. “Usually, it’s watered down or boiled. But I was thirsty.”
“I know,” he said. “I saw.”
She pointed to the food table as they moved away from it. “I want more of those eggs, please. Can we go back?”
Alexander saw a stone bench beneath a yew tree that was next to a small church. There were people around, but no one sitting on the bench, so he deposited her onto the cold stone surface.
“Sit,” he commanded softly.
“But can I have more eggs?”
He put up his hands. “I will get you more eggs. You remain here. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
He held a finger out to her, silently commanding her to remain where she was, as he headed back to the food table to collect more stuffed eggs. By the time he returned, both hands full of eggs, she was simply sitting there, staring off into space.
“Here are your eggs, my lady,” he said. “Eat them in good health.”
She looked at him before looking at the eggs. Taking one, she simply stared at it for a moment.
“May I ask you a question?” she said.
“Aye.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Alexander wasn’t nearly as tipsy as she was, but tipsy enough to loosen his tongue.
He sat down next to her, closer than he should have simply because he wanted to.
He’d just spent the past several minutes watching a thoroughly charming and exceedingly beautiful young woman have the time of her life.
He was enchanted.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Can’t a man be nice to you without you asking him foolish questions?”
Christin looked at him in surprise. “I do not think so,” she said seriously. “I think that I must know everything because no man has ever been truly nice to me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Because of my father,” she clarified. “He terrifies everyone and no man is brave enough to be nice to me. You heard Bric. He said that he might offer for me if he was certain my father would not grind him into mincemeat. That is very true, you know. My father chases all of my suitors away. Well, if I had any. No one will come near me.”
Alexander still had eggs in his hand. She finished the one he’d handed her and now she took another from him.
“Not all of them,” he muttered.
She had a mouth full of egg. “Who?” she demanded.
“Do you know of someone he cannot chase away? It does not matter, anyway. I will be like you and Peter and Bric and the rest of them. I will be a career agent for William Marshal and I shall never marry. My work for him shall be my husband. Besides… no one wants to marry a woman who kills on command. Even I know that.”
Alexander watched her stuff more egg into her mouth. “I think I may know one.”
She stopped chewing, egg on her lips. “Who?”
“Finish your egg. When he is ready to tell you, he will.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you actually know someone who might… well, God’s Bones, man, who is it? Is it Bric? I do not want to marry that loud-mouthed Irishman. You can tell him I said that.”
Alexander started to laugh. “Nay, it is not Bric, and I will not tell him what you said. It would hurt his feelings.”
“Ha!” she said, biting into the last egg. “That is not possible.”
“It is. He is very tender.”
She started laughing, full mouth and all.
But she stood up to brush the excess egg from her traveling coat and the moment she did so, she suddenly stopped chewing.
As Alexander watched, she spun away from him, grabbed the tree, and proceeded to vomit out all of the egg and ale she’d been eating and drinking.
It had been a horrific combination, anyway.
All of it came spewing out until there was no more.
Embarrassed, Christin hugged the tree, trying to catch her breath, as Alexander stood up behind her.
“Breathe, Cissy,” he said softly, putting a surprisingly gentle hand on her back. “Then sit back down. I will go find you some boiled fruit juice and some bread. That should help calm your belly.”
Christin wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She couldn’t even reply to him. All of that lovely food and conversation had been destroyed in an instant, all because she wasn’t used to such strong ale.
And she’d done it right in front of Alexander.
Mortified, and still drunk, she staggered off towards the church, hoping to find a dark, cool place to hide.
She could make it the rest of the way to Norwich on her own.