Chapter Three Knights and Ladies #2
“You picked me because I’m cute, I’m amazing in bed, I’m funny, I’m smart, and I have a degree.
I’m broke, but that’s because I pay my bills, and I don’t splurge on seven-hundred-dollar-a-night rooms with some stranger in latex!
Oh, and because I have an ass to die for, and I can cook!
It’s not ‘baby fat,’ it’s curves! You and your playpen princesses are the losers. ”
I hang up with a feeling of triumph and a flurry of stomping steps on the hardwood floors of the lodge, as if I’m pummeling my ex.
My ex.
I look at my engagement ring and pry it off my finger. I can sell—hell, I can sell this and probably get five grand for it, maybe more. That might solve the housing problem for the summer. I wonder if I will get kicked out of the rental?
I never told Daniel about Duncan—not that he’d believe me.
Ugh. What a mess.
It’s all a mess.
Oh, and I lied. My heart is snapped clean in two, and Daniel took a half with him. I said it doesn’t hurt—but it does. It’s like it’s gone, but I feel the throbbing, like the piece is still there.
I put the ring inside the little box it came in and zip the whole thing into my accessory bag that I packed.
I look around and realize I packed a lot—especially for me. I’ve never been on a two-week vacation, let alone a whole summer vacation.
Might have to pack it all back up. Go back home. Can’t kick out the sub-lease tenant, but at least I didn’t give notice to my landlord that I wanted out at the end of the year.
“Shit,” I whisper. I have to tell everyone at work. Tell my parents and my sisters, and all my aunts and uncles...
They’ll say he was too good for you. Too rich, too much of a pretty boy, etc., etc.
I’ll set them straight. He was cheating on me. Sex clubs. Playpens.
That sounds worse, somehow. I was engaged to someone, and I didn’t even know his preferences and habits.
I go to the kitchen to get a glass of water and some aspirin, and I look out at Duncan, standing guard in the garden.
Probably have to tell them I went nuts, too.
Things look better after a good night’s sleep. Okay, well, day’s sleep. I look at Duncan one more time and shrug. Looks like everyone is gonna be nocturnal this summer.
I AWAKEN WITH A ROAR, this time with a dull ache, not a stabbing pain. My wing still feels numb and clumsy, but it’s attached, and I’m alive.
As ever, no matter the time or place, I have a job to do.
The first job? Inspect the perimeter. The second, assess those whom I am to guard. Third, protect them.
I whirl around quickly, teeth bared, tail ready to strike. Nothing. I prowl the perimeter of the little cottage. Nothing but startled moths.
The area is quiet up here, and my anger at the new laird grows. He has truly sent Lady June to a far-flung, isolated place, and sent me with her—but it seems as if he didn’t know what I was, or even if I would awaken.
He left the woman he was betrothed to unguarded. Sent me—as what? A token to make it look as though he had some sort of honor?
I must find Lady June.
IT’S NOT CUSTOMARY for gargoyles to enter the castle uninvited, but this world is strange, and Lady June invited me in last night. When I look for her and don’t see her anywhere on the grounds, I knock gently and wait for her to answer.
She doesn’t.
I quickly make my way around the house, heart beating faster as I look through window after window and don’t see her—until I spy a sliver of space between curtains in one of the back chambers.
Through the gap, I spy her, sprawled on the bed, features obscured by her arm and her curls.
Her body is obscured by nothing. A naked figure full of womanly curves meets my eye, and I back up quickly, only to frown, and then press my face against the glass again.
Lady June is likely sleeping. Perhaps she retires early, before the moon is well risen.
Or perhaps... Perhaps the scoundrel has returned and left her beaten and ravaged.
I stare at the space between her hips and breasts, trying to see a reassuring rise and fall with her breathing—and I cannot see any movement.
Perhaps it is because the room is dark, and it is dark outside as well, and even though Gargoyles can see in normal darkness, perhaps this is too much.
Or perhaps it is because I’ve never seen a naked human woman before, and my eyes keep traveling to her breasts and the space between her hips, feelings of curiosity and shame stealing over me.
Fear blots them out when it’s been several minutes, and I still cannot see if she breathes, and she doesn’t stir. I understood humans to stir constantly in their sleep, something gargoyles know nothing of.
I groan a little and stalk back to the door, a feeling of unease filling me.
At least back home, with my clan, I had someone I could have asked questions of.
Even if my clan was away or captured, or something, I could have flown to Tulloch to find members of Clan Davidson, or to Straithnairn, to find members of Clan Shaw, both our ancient, sworn allies.
You’ve nothing but yourself here, laddie—and she’s got none but you.
With a low snarl, I march into the house and race to the bedroom, low, on all fours, eyes scanning, searching for threats. If that faithless new laird is here, I don’t care if he is now the owner of my sacred ancestral home. He’s getting his innards turned into haggis.
“My lady!” I cry softly, approaching the bed.
“Mm?”
Lady June lives! But she barely stirs.
“Lady June! Are you well?” I turn my back, averting my eyes. “Shall I fetch help?”
“Huh? What? I— Oh, shit! Where’s my towel?” Lady June goes from unconscious to fully alert. I can hear frantic rustling and muttered curses. “Duncan, what are you doing in here?” she demands.
“I couldnae find ye, and when I did, you appeared lifeless, and I feared the laird had returned and harmed ye,” I say, aware that the more agitated I am, the more my brogue thickens.
Lady June is aware of it, too. It takes her a moment, and then she’s in front of me, wearing a striped towel. “No. The ‘laird’ and I broke up. He was unfaithful again. In a worse way. And thanks for the concern, but I didn’t sleep most of last night, and then I had a big fight with Daniel—”
“He fought with ye?” I look around for him, for evidence of this fight. “Where is he? I’ll rip his fists clean off, laird, or no, for daring to strike a woman!”
“Not here. He was on the phone. We had a fight over the phone.” Lady June looks at me as if waiting to see a spark of understanding, but all she sees is a spark of confusion. “Speaking, on the phone. The telephone?”
“The telegraph?”
“No, it’s a... Never mind, we’ll review later. Oh, geez. Well, look, I didn’t get any sleep last night, I had a shitty morning, and when I’m really emotionally done, I tend to push myself until I collapse.”
Fearing the collapse will soon return, for who could not feel like collapsing when their lover is unfaithful, I rush to pick up Lady June and deposit her back on the bed. “Stay there. I will fetch one of the women from the village to attend to ye,” I urge.
“No! No, Duncan, that’s... That’s really sweet and kind of you, but I don’t know anyone in the village. We’re up in the mountains, and I don’t need anything but a bathroom and something to eat.”
“A bath? I can draw ye a bath if you tell me where the well or pump is.” It’s unseemly work for a gargoyle, as we are not servants or ladies’ maids, but I’ve resigned myself to do whatever must be done.
Lady June looks up at me and shakes her head with a wee little smile on her face, something of a sparkle in her eyes.
“You’re gonna love this thing called indoor plumbing.
From what Daniel’s told me, it wasn’t as widespread in rural parts of England and Scotland until after World War II—oops.
Spoiler: We had two huge wars. Um. The good guys won, if that helps. ”
I blink at my lady, still puzzled. I decide to bow and agree. “Yes, my lady. But you really must have a seamstress come, or you’ll catch your death of cold.”
“No, honey... Oh, my sweet summer gargoyle. Listen.” Lady June holds her towel with one hand, rises, and puts her tiny hand on my shoulder. “I have clothes. I took a shower and had a fight with my now ex as soon as I was out—”
“But he was not here? He used a telegraphone?”
“Close. I got water and aspirin, because I had a headache the size of Broad Street—nope, never mind that, and then I passed out. I haven’t eaten anything in a day except a bottle of wine, a glass of water, and two aspirin.”
“And you’ve no cook?”
Lady June smiles suddenly, a real, true broad smile. “What have you eaten since 1895, buddy?”
I cannot explain the trickle of sudden delight her smile and the odd nickname bring, but it races up my tail and lands between my wings with a snap. “I haven’t gone to hunt yet, my lady, but I will as soon as I have your leave.”
“Boy, no.”
I try not to glare, but I know my voice is quite gruff when I reply, “It can be hard to tell with our kind, but I am well past my boyhood.”
“I mean, Duncan, thank you, but that’s unnecessary. Look, we’re going to have a North of Scotland, South of Philly language barrier for a few days, but that’s okay. We’ll get through this. We’re survivors. Give me a second to put on real clothes, and then we’re going to have dirty nachos.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to have some clean fish, my lady? There must be a stream nearby?”
“Just go wait in the kitchen and open the big cold box with two doors. We’ve got food.
Enough to feed an army, or one heartbroken girl and one hungry gargoyle.
” She gives me another one of those sparkling smiles, and I find myself mystified that any human could betray such a dazzling beauty—even unadorned and fresh from sleep, she is eye-catching, courteous, witty, and brave.
Everything a man could ask for in a mate, and yet someone was ill-intentioned enough to betray her!
Humans are fools.
“And speaking of clothes—you’re the one who needs a trip to the mall, my guy. Your kilt has seen a lot better days.”