A Knight to Remember (8 page)

That was what she'd remembered last night – the potion books. If she could somehow get one mixed together that would keep Marguerite confined to her chambers, then her life would be so much easier. All she had to do was gather the ingredients and pour the liquid into Marguerite's wine.

It all sounded wonderful in theory, in reality, she only knew the names of a handful of herbs and flowers, so if the potion called for something peculiar, then she was stuck. She would have to hope there would be labelled jars or something in Avrick's collection of bottles. Also, if the mixture she made tasted as bad as the headache potion she was given last time, then there would be no way she could disguise it. Even the strongest tasting wine wouldn't cover it! But she would at least give it a try. Anything was better than having to endure Marguerite's odious company!

The infirmary was deserted when she arrived, so she quickly walked over to the bookshelf and scanned down the available books. A small one caught her eye. It had a picture of several different herbs on the front. As she picked it up to leaf through it, she heard the door open. Quickly, she slammed the book shut and slipped it up her sleeve.

"Milady! What brings thee to my chamber? Art thou unwell?"

She turned around to find Avrick had returned. She quickly pretended she'd been waiting for him. "Yes, Avrick, I fear my headache has returned. Would you be able to prepare another of your potions for me? It worked so well last time."

Avrick visibly swelled. "Aye, milady. 'Twould be my pleasure. Go and rest and I shall send a servant to thy chamber when 'tis ready."

"Thank you." She smiled and quickly left his chamber, relieved that he didn't want to watch her actually take the potion. It was ghastly. At least with a servant delivering it, she could throw it out of the window.

Arriving back at her chamber, she lay on the bed and withdrew the small book from her sleeve. Her eyes sparkling with devilment, she began to flick through the pages. There were a few pictures of herbs, but most of the book was in text form and the language was hard to understand. It seemed to be a mixture of French and English but the English used was nothing like the English she knew. She'd never been good at French, so that was a non starter. Irritated, she threw the book down and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. What to do? Her plan had turned to dust. Just then, a brief knock sounded on the door and Annie bustled in.

She seemed surprised to find Jenny already up. "'Tisn't like thee to rise so early, milady. Are thou unwell?"

Jenny scowled and was just about to reply with a sharp retort when an idea came to mind. "Actually Annie, I don't feel myself. I...well, it's embarrassing to say...but I can't seem to go to the toilet!" She pointed down below and blushed.

"Oh! Oh, I see!" Annie nodded knowingly. "Well, we can easily sort that out! I hath my very own remedy for such a thing. I shall prepare it for thee now."

"Annie?" Jenny called out to her before she left the room. "Could you make a couple of batches? It would be nice to keep some spare for the future."

Annie frowned. "'Tis no bother making thee a fresh batch should the problem arise again."

"Please, Annie?"

Annie acquiesced. "Well, if thy problem is that frequent, then of course I can."

Jenny smiled and thanked her. Shortly after she left, Avrick's servant arrived with her headache potion. She took it off him and made sure he was gone before she threw it out of the window. She sniffed the empty pot and grimaced. God, it stank! Thank goodness for Paracetamol in her own time. Her own time! She sat down on the bed with a thump. Would she ever return or was she going to be stuck here forever?

As much as she was enjoying the discovery of life in Medieval England, apart from the odious Marguerite, it still didn't mean that she wasn't missing her own life – a life where she was her own person, answerable only to herself. An image of Stephen popped into her head, and she wondered how she would feel if he wasn't in it. She had grown used to seeing him every day. Would she miss him if she went back? The answer was yes. The realisation left her feeling confused. Did she want to go back or not? Would she have a choice when and if the time came?

Later that afternoon, Jenny spied Marguerite on her own in the Great Hall. Perfect! She was sitting by the fire, staring into the flames. When she approached, Marguerite turned to stare at her.

"Oh, 'tis thee," she said sullenly.

"Yes, it is. Where is everyone?"

She directed her eyes towards a door at the end of the hall. "Talking about battles!"

Jenny nodded and chewed on the inside of her cheek. If she was going to administer the laxative, now was as good a time as any. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Would you like to play Nine Men's Morris with me and have some wine?"

Marguerite narrowed her eyes. "Wherefore doth thou want to play with me?"

Jenny shrugged. "Why not? We're both bored. Might as well see if I can beat you at a game rather than waste our time arguing."

Marguerite raised an eyebrow. "Very well, but I warn thee – I am rarely beaten."

"Then it will make the game more challenging. If you can get the game, I will fetch the wine. It's in the side room over there."

When Marguerite was out of sight, Jenny quickly rushed to the high table and poured them both a goblet of wine. With trembling hands, she slipped in two doses of the laxative. If anything was going to confine Marguerite to her chambers – this was it!

Turning around, she found Marguerite already laying out the game. She looked up when Jenny handed her a goblet.

"I shall throw first," she stated.

"Be my guest," Jenny smiled and sat down opposite her. "May the better man win!"

Halfway through the game, Marguerite began to look a little pale. Every now and then she would place a hand on her stomach and frown.

"Is everything all right?" Jenny asked, pretending concern.

"Nay. I-I feel unusual. Methinks I shall retire to my chamber."

"If you're sure. Would you like me to call for someone?"

But Marguerite didn't hear her. She was already running from the room. A sly smile appeared on Jenny's face. She could eat her dinner in peace this evening without Marguerite trying to claim every second of Stephen's attention.

The door at the other end of the hall opened and Stephen emerged with the king and several knights. He smiled when he caught sight of Jenny, and bowing to the king, made his way over to her.

"Good morrow, my love. Hath thou missed me?" He took one of her hands in his and held it to his lips.

Jenny felt her cheeks flush with colour. "Yes, I have."

He glanced over to the table. "I see the game is out? Who did thee play with?"

"Marguerite."

He raised an eyebrow. "I am surprised, but 'tis nice to see thee hath put thy differences aside."

Jenny swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of guilt. "Oh, yes. We enjoyed playing together."

"Where is she now?" Stephen looked around the empty hall.

"Oh, she said she was feeling unwell and retired to her room. I expect we'll see her at supper."

"Aye, mayhap."

She was pleased to notice that he didn't seem too concerned. Perhaps the lovely Marguerite was getting on his nerves as well. He shrugged and carried on speaking, "So, Jenny, doth thou want to ride out with me? 'Tis a fine afternoon."

Jenny smiled. "Yes. Can we visit the church again?"

Stephen chuckled. "Aye, 'twas my intention. I wish to speak with the priest regarding our marriage!"

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "I haven't said yes, yet!"

"Thee will!"

"You sound very sure of yourself!"

"Aye, I am. Thou art mine, Jenny Peverel!"

"So you keep saying."

He pulled her to him and kissed her soundly on the lips. "Now, wife-to-be, we shall ride."

* * *

Later that afternoon...

After the ride out to the little church, where, yet again, Jenny hadn't been able to return to her own time, she decided to see how Marguerite fared.

She knocked on her chamber door and waited. It opened and Annie appeared. She came out into the corridor and closed the door behind her.

"How is she?" Jenny asked.

Annie fixed her with a stare. "'Twould seem, the Lady Marguerite hath an upset of the bowels."

"Oh, poor thing." Jenny did her best to look contrite.

"Aye, indeed." She looked at Jenny suspiciously. "Think thee that it is coincidence that she suddenly hath this problem?"

Jenny's eyes widened ever so slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Only this, milady. That thee did ask me for a laxative and suddenly Marguerite is unwell with this upset. I may be old, milady, but I still have all my faculties!"

Jenny decided to go on the defence. "Meaning what, exactly?"

"I think thee administered the laxative to Lady Marguerite!"

"How dare you! I would never do such a thing!"

"Then show me the potion I gave thee earlier. Thou should still hath one left and I wouldst see for myself!"

Before she could stop it, Jenny face flushed with guilt. "I haven't got it! I took one of them and the other I...dropped."

"I do not believe thee! Thy words speak one thing, but thy face reveals another! I shall speak of thy treachery to Sir Stephen!"

"No! Please don't do that!" implored Jenny, clutching Annie's arm. "I admit I did give her a little of the potion, but it was only for fun. No harm has been done, surely!"

"No harm, milady? Lady Marguerite will still feel the after-effects for the next day or so," admonished Annie. "I will inform Sir Stephen, and he can decide what punishment befits thee."

"But, you can't tell him!" Her words fell on deaf ears as Annie walked away. Jenny looked at her despondently. This didn't bode well for her backside, not well at all!

For the next hour or so, Jenny kept out of everyone's way. She knew it was pointless hiding, because in the end, Stephen was bound to find her. But just for now, she kept out of his path, hoping his anger would subside more, the longer she was out of his reach. She walked stealthily around the narrow corridors, slipping into a recess every time she heard a voice.

Whilst she stood in the dark, she fantasized that perhaps Annie had refrained from telling him. Perhaps she'd had a change of heart and decided that no one need know. Her shoulders slumped, as she remembered the look on Annie's face and came to the conclusion that she would indeed have told him.

Cautiously, she peered out into the corridor to make sure the coast was clear and then stepped out. Unfortunately for her, Stephen chose that moment to round the corner.

Their eyes locked, his full of wrath – hers of alarm. Annie had definitely told him! She turned quickly and raced along the corridor in the opposite direction, her heart thumping in her chest.

Stephen didn't waste a second. She could hear his booted feet behind her getting closer and closer. Reaching her chamber, she slammed the door shut and turned the big iron key.

The door rattled when he reached it only seconds behind her. "Open this door, Jenny!"

"No!"

She jumped when he banged his fist on the thick wood. "By the rood, thou shalt open this door, else thy punishment be doubled!"

Jenny gulped. She ran to the other side of the room and stared at the door, her eyes feeling as wide as saucers. If she opened that door, her bottom was mincemeat! She looked around the room wildly for somewhere to hide.

Bang!
His fist landed on the door again.

Bang! Bang!

"Jenny!"

Jenny bit her bottom lip in alarm. Oh, crap! He really meant to knock the bloody door down! Well, let him, then! Quickly, she scrambled under the bed and pushed herself to the wall furthest away from the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The latch finally gave way and Jenny heard him crash into the room. She closed her eyes and hoped for the best. When she opened them, he was leaning down staring right at her, his eyes as dark as night.

"Come out from under there, right now!" he ordered.

"No!"

"Thee will do as I tell thee!" he thundered.

Jenny sent him a mutinous look. "Only if you promise not to spank me."

"I will make thee no promise!" His hand reached under for her, and she moved farther away.

"I will get the servants to help if thee continue to disobey me. 'Twill only take two of us to lift this bed and thee, milady, will be thoroughly embarrassed when I spank thee in full sight of them."

Jenny gasped. "You wouldn't!"

Stephen sent her a grim smile. "Aye, I wouldst."

Jenny huffed as she weighed up her choices and then reluctantly began to crawl towards him. As soon as she was within his reach, he grabbed her roughly by the wrist and pulled her out.

"'Twould seem no matter what I do...thee willst defy me at every turn!" He still had a tight grip on her and she tried to twist free.

"I don't!" She placed her other hand over his and tried to prise him off her wrist, but to no avail.

"Do not deny it! Thou art ever wilful. I will rid thee of that errant trait, one way or another!"

"W-What are you going to do?" Jenny's stomach roiled nervously.

"Thee will find out!" He marched her to the door and out into the corridor.

"Don't throw me in the dungeons!" Jenny's voice rose with panic. "I couldn't stand that! I can't stand the dark!" She tried to dig her heels in but Stephen's stride didn't alter.

"Oh, no, milady. We do not head for the dungeons. We shall visit the woods."

"The woods?" queried Jenny. What did he want to go to the woods for?

"Aye, the woods." His voice was full of determination.

The guards let them out of the side gate and Stephen made her walk to the surrounding forest. Quickly, he located what he was looking for and set Jenny down on a large, fallen log.

"Do not move from that spot!"

Jenny huffed and crossed her arms whilst she watched him. What on earth was he doing? It wasn't until he started pulling the leaves off a long, thin branch that the penny finally dropped. Quickly, she made to rise.

"If I hath to catch thee again, I shall give thee double!" he growled, pausing in his ministrations to send her a fierce look.

Jenny's heart skipped a beat. Double? Once was going to be bad enough – she didn't fancy having double! Slowly, she lowered herself back down again and sent him a sulky look.

"This isn't fair, you know!" she complained.

"'Tis, milady. 'Tis verily fair, indeed. If thee did not misbehave, then thee wouldst not receive a punishment. 'Tis simple, is it not?"

Jenny turned her back on him and refused to answer.

"I knowest not why thee act so foolishly, but I tell thee this...'tis the last time!"

"Oh, for God's sake! You act as though I've done something awful! It was only a laxative!"

He went silent and she turned to see what he was doing. When she saw the expression on his face, her heart nearly stopped. He was livid!

"Yet again, thou hath taken God's name in vain!"

Jenny tried to bluster her way out of her predicament. "Did I? I'm sorry. I didn't even know I said it."

"I heard thee well enough, milady. Even though thou knowest 'tis blaspheming, thee still cannot control thy tongue!"

"I forgot," she finished lamely.

"Once too often. Now, come hither!" He walked towards her and held out his large hand. She looked at him and thought about fleeing but decided that when he said he'd give her double, then that was what she'd get. As she'd learned, his word was his oath.

Sighing petulantly, she placed her hand in his and he helped her rise. He pointed back down to the thick log and told her to bend over it. Reluctantly, she did as she was told and touched the forest floor with her hands on the other side. She felt a rush of air when he threw up her skirts. Squeezing her eyes shut, she awaited the first stroke. This was going to hurt. She'd never had the switch, but she was now going to experience it, and she had a feeling she wasn't going to like it.

* * *

Stephen regarded the perfectly rounded buttocks of the woman he wanted to marry and pursed his lips. Why did she persist in bad behaviour? Aye, he knew that Marguerite could try the patience of a saint, but to administer a laxative to the woman whilst under the same roof as her guardian, the king, why, 'twas utter madness!

If the king had but found out what she'd done, then she would be in far more trouble than she was in now. She needed to be taught a lesson, and the stinging cut of a switch ought to do it.

Stephen laid his hand on her backside and ran it over the smooth skin before coming to rest on the small of her back. He raised his hand and brought the switch swinging down onto her bottom, the swish and thwack resonating throughout the forest.

"Oh...aow!" Jenny shrieked, trying to rise up at the first stroke but Stephen's firm hand on her back stopped her. Instead, she had to make do with kicking out her legs and clenching her buttocks as she tried to handle the pain.

Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack!

"Awow! Please stop! I'm really sorry...I won't ever do it again. Please?"

Stephen ignored her and continued holding her down. His task was to make sure she was truly contrite for what she had done this day and make sure her bottom glowed as a reminder.

Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack!

Stephen could see the lines of his punishment easily on her fine bottom and each time he switched her, he made sure to touch a new spot. No amount of pleading was going to make him stop.

Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack!

On the last stroke, he threw the switch down on the ground and helped her to her feet. "Now, milady, thy lesson should be learned this day. Bad behaviour doth not go unpunished."

Jenny adjusted her skirts and looked up at him through teary eyes. Her bottom was stinging like fury, but his spanking had worked. She did feel a
little
contrite for what she'd done. "I'm sorry, Stephen. I shouldn't have done what I did, but Marguerite irritates me so! I just thought it would be nice to have her away from us for a while."

"She will leave in a few days hence, Jenny. Thy impatience doth not become thee."

"I know, I know." She sighed and searched his face, realising how much he meant to her. "Marguerite wants you for her own, Stephen."

Stephen raised an eyebrow. "And thou didst not like that?"

"No!"

"Then thou art jealous, which doth mean thou must love me." He took one of her hands in his own and placed it on his chest. "Doth thou hath an answer for me? Will thou marry me?"

Jenny reached up a hand and touched his face. "I will marry you, Stephen, if you'll still have me."

His answer was to kiss her soundly on the lips and pull her to his big body. With his massive arms wrapped around her, Jenny revelled in how secure she felt. He truly was her knight in shining armour.

* * *

Two days later…

The king decided that he wanted Sir Stephen to marry in his presence. He said that Jenny Peverel and Sir Stephen made a good pairing and since Jenny's relation, Hugh, wasn't present, he would stand in for him.

When Father Michael read out the marriage declaration in the small church at Okehampton, Jenny smiled up at her new husband, finding it all a bit surreal. When she'd first encountered him, it was at a wedding in the same church, and here she was again, experiencing it firsthand this time. It all seemed so bizarre.

Walking back down the aisle, she caught a glimpse of Marguerite, staring at her petulantly. Jenny merely smiled and looked away, happy in the knowledge that Stephen was now hers.

The shrew would be leaving any day, and that time couldn't come soon enough! For now, she would take pleasure in flaunting her status as the new Lady of Okehampton.

Arriving back at the castle, they were greeted by the servants who had stayed behind to prepare the wedding feast. They all wished the couple well in their new marriage. Even Annie had a big hug for her. She had forgiven her over the laxative incident, once Jenny had apologized for her behaviour. She had scolded her for a good half hour before finally admitting that she also disliked the lady Marguerite, but, even so, it didn't excuse Jenny's treatment of her. They were now back on an even footing.

Once Jenny and Stephen were seated at the dais in the great hall, servants began to file in, holding platters of food.

"Thy servants hath put on a fine feast, Stephen," the king commented, slapping him on the back. "I warrant thee will need plenty to keep up thy stamina this night!"

Jenny couldn't help but blush and quickly took a sip of her wine.

"See how thy virgin bride doth turn red, Stephen. Methinks the sooner she is deflowered, the better!"

Jenny spluttered out her wine and Stephen patted her on the back whilst she got her breath.
Virgin! Oh, crap!

Stephen chuckled at her reaction and poured her some more wine. "Some more wine, my love. 'Twill calm thy nerves."

Whilst King Edward engaged him in conversation, Jenny wondered what she was going to do when they were finally alone. Should she tell him beforehand that she was no longer a virgin? Should she leave him to find out? Oh, God. This would teach her for not telling him before they were wed. She'd been meaning to, but every time she'd thought about it, she'd chickened out. Oh, what could it matter? What was he going to do...throw her out of the castle? Her stomach roiled nervously when she realised that he could do exactly that! Then where would she be?

A few hours later and she was finally alone in her chamber with her new husband. For a moment, she had known true horror when the king and several others had piled into the chamber with them, threatening to stay and see the deflowering themselves. Stephen had soon set them straight on that account and with a little persuasion, they had all left.

"I thought they would never leave!" said Jenny, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

"Aye, 'tis a custom I dislike. The bedchamber should be for man and wife alone, no other!" He walked towards her and put his hands on her waist. "I want to remember this night. I hath waited a long time for it!"

Jenny smiled and laid her hands on his broad shoulders, marvelling at the size of him. His lips descended over hers and eagerly she accepted them, her lips meshing with his. His hands moved lower to her bottom and cupping her cheeks through her skirts, he pulled her body against his. She was left in no doubt as to his arousal!

She pulled away, breathing heavily. His eyes were dark with lust when he leaned forward to kiss her again. She placed a finger gently over his lips, stalling him.

"No, Stephen. I have something I must tell you." She moved her hands to his large biceps and lowered her eyes, afraid to meet his gaze.