Joust of Hearts (14 page)

“Ouch!” Bean yelped. “Be gentle with me!” he finished coyly, batting his eyelashes.

The audience was now holding their sides and stomachs, gasping for air while battling fits of laughter.

Shelby started gathering the rest of the rope off the ground. “Go make yourself useful and choose two volunteers to participate in the magic.”

With another shrug of his shoulders, Bean walked over to the crowd and right away chose Melisande. “You, m’lady, will do nicely, and…you, sir, come with me.” Melisande looked up as Bean took her hand to lead her down the steps, and saw that it was Corin who was to be the other ‘volunteer’.

Bean placed Melisande and Corin back to back in the center of their impromptu theater in the round, directly in front of the King and Queen.

“Nay, nay, thou witless, blundering slob, not that way!” Shelby said while coiling the rope.

Bean turned their shoulders so that they were facing the spectators. Melisande wished fruitlessly that all the torches and candles in the room would get snuffed out simultaneously. She was not at all bashful in front of an audience, but only when
she
was in control of the entertainment.

“Oh, can you do aught right?” Shelby shouted at Bean as he handed the neatly coiled rope to him. Shelby turned the couple face to face, or, rather, Melisande’s face to Corin’s chest. “My, you’re a big one!” Shelby said to Corin. The audience gave up a roar of laughter.

Melisande eyed Helena. It seemed she was displeased, if the scowl on her face told aught. Instead of joining in with the merriment, she merely shifted in her seat.
What could have vexed her so
?

“Hold this here—” Bean said as he handed her one end of the rope near her upper arm. “And put your other hand here.” Bean had her place her hand on Corin’s shoulder. “Now please place your feet in between the gentleman’s feet.” Melisande helplessly did as she was told. “Very good,” Bean said to her as if talking to a child. Melisande could not look up at Corin’s face. She stared at his green velvet tabard with gold embroidery instead.

“You, sir, will you place your hands like so?” Bean positioned Corin’s hands on Melisande’s waist. Melisande glanced briefly at the audience and everyone was smiling and hooting… Except for Helena.

Bean started circling the couple with the rope, round and round and round until the other end of the rope was at their ankles.

Shelby turned to Bean and asked irritably with his hands on his hips, “Now, how are we to tie the ends, Bean? You oaf!”

“Sorry,” Bean said and retraced his footsteps backward, unwinding the rope all the way.

“Give me one of those ends, you imbecile. Remind me on the morrow to find a new partner with some sense about him,” Shelby grumbled.

“Very well,” Bean said obliviously.

Shelby’s gaze swept across the high ceiling with much exaggeration over Bean’s last remark. He placed Melisande’s other hand on Corin’s shoulder and pushed them even closer together so that they were flush against each other.

Melisande felt a moment of panic but shoved it to the back of her mind. She would endure this performance as the court had endured hers.

Shelby proceeded with the task that lay ahead of him by placing the center of the rope around Melisande’s shoulders and across Corin’s back.

Shelby addressed Bean. “Now take this end and wrap it around opposite the way I do.” Shelby and Bean tightly circled their captives until they had enough rope left on the ends to tie a strong knot.

“Can you move all right?” Shelby asked the couple.

“No. Not a bit,” Melisande replied, her voice muffled by Corin’s chest.

“Good,” Shelby said abruptly, ignoring her statement.

A hot flush worked its way up Melisande’s face as the audience laughed. Suddenly in need of air, she turned her face to the side. If only she could catch his eye, she would glare at the performers. Mayhaps then they would quickly find the climax of their tale. “Now, Bean, where did you put the guidance parchment?”

“I do not have it, you do.”

“Come now, Bean, the old man handed it to you—I distinctly recall it.”

“Nay, I do not remember such a thing.”

Shelby raised his voice then. “How are we supposed to complete this trick if we do not know
how
?”

“Do not look to me, ’tis no fault of mine,” Bean said, raising his hands palm up in surrender.

Shelby removed his hat and gave chase to Bean, swinging at and missing his head all the way across the room and out through the doors that led to the gardens.

As the crowd applauded, Melisande finally raised her gaze to Corin’s.

Corin shrugged and said, “Well, I suppose we are stuck here until Shelby and Bean can find that parchment.” A surreptitious grin made the corners of his mouth curl up.

“How long will that take?” she enquired.

“I am not sure, but there are worse situations I could think of than this to be in. In fact, I am finding this quite tolerable,” Corin said and flashed his perfect smile at her.

Melisande’s pulse quickened and the room seemed to grow even warmer. She glanced around and remembered that she was tied indiscriminately to Corin.
One doesn’t even dance as close as we now stand.
All at once in her mind’s eye she saw Devin’s face and remembered their dancing at Willowbrook.

Helena jumped from her seat and tried to untie the knot. “Fitzherbert, could you please assist me? I cannot seem to undo this.”

“Oh, Helena, let the young people have a little fun,” he replied, still chuckling.

“Fitzherbert. Please,” Helena implored.

“As you wish, my love.” Lord Bergavny stood, sobering some.

When they finally came unbound, Helena took Melisande by the hand, obviously forgetting about the King and Queen. “Come, Melisande, ’tis time we retired for the evening.”

Because of her scandalous behavior before the court, whether innocent victim or not, Melisande complied immediately.

They had not ventured three steps when the Queen spoke to her hastily departing guests. “One moment, please, Lady Bergavny.” Helena and Melisande stopped dead in their tracks and turned toward the dais. “Before you and Lady Dupree retire, the King—my husband—has an announcement.” She indicated him with an upturned hand and a nod.

“Verily.” Henry cleared his throat. “We would require that you stay at the palace for another day. The Queen and I are going to hold a masque, and it is our desire that you and the Bergavnys are present.”

Melisande was in no way ready to attend a celebration so soon after the damage done to her heart by Devin. She turned to Helena and stepped closer for a private, hurried conversation. “Inasmuch as I would like to, I would rather not, Helena. I must be getting back to Dupree.”

“Melisande, ’tis a rarity that the King offers an invitation to surprise guests such as ourselves. ’Twould be wise to stay.”

“Helena, I have nothing to wear to a masquerade.” Melisande’s tone was pleading.

They both heard Fitzherbert clear his throat as if to tell them that they were taking too long in making a reply to their king.

“We shall have to improvise,” Helena whispered in a rush. Their heads came up simultaneously, and Melisande knew her placating smile presented a none too authentic expression. “We would be honored, Your Majesty.” Helena curtsied deeply and Melisande followed suit.

“Excellent,” the Queen replied.

Still in the center of the room, Corin addressed Melisande. “So, I shall see you again at supper on the morrow’s eve?” The question that hung in his languid, sensual gaze practically took her breath away.

Perhaps it is not such a bad idea to stay after all.
Melisande nodded slowly, her heart pitter-patting erratic beats under his scrutiny. “Aye, Corin.” She smiled prettily, vowing to scold herself later for being so horrendously fickle. She supposed that she would have plenty of time to mend her broken heart when this enforced holiday was over.

Corin closed the distance between them in four strides, took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Save the first dance for me?” he queried, then lingeringly kissed her hand.

Melisande basked in his courtly manners, her indecisive apprehension all but forgotten. “Most assuredly,” she whispered.

“Come along, Melisande. We have much to attend to before the morrow.” Helena pulled Melisande by the other arm.

“Until then,” Corin said as Melisande’s hand slipped from his.

Yet ensnared by Corin’s hot stare, Melisande wiggled her fingers at him in a farewell gesture, and he in turn regally inclined his head toward her.

Chapter Thirteen

Helena threw open the shutters of Melisande’s room and the bright morning light seeped between her closed eyelids. Up until this moment she’d lain asleep, peaceful and satisfied in her warm little nest.

“Melisande, the morn is half wasted. Ian has arrived with our packages and is now loading them into my chambers. Arise from thy slumber, my dear, we have several things to see to.”

Melisande mumbled none too discreetly, “Will no one in Christendom let me sleep? If my maids aren’t plaguing me ’tis someone else.” Attempting to wipe the blurriness from her eyes with the heels of her hands, she continued, “Where is it written that we must get up with the cock?”

“You know the old proverb, ‘early to bed, early to rise’,” Helena said cheerfully.

“Well, as I recall”—Melisande yawned—“’twas but a suggestion.”

She eyed Helena’s smile at the quip and Melisande stretched like a cat underneath the pile of fabric.

“My lady, what is so important that you must drag me from one of my favorite pastimes?” Melisande sat up.

“Why, the masquerade this eve. Are you not excited?” Helena asked incredulously.

Recalling Corin’s flirtations, Melisande looked down and pretended to study a tassel from one of the elaborately embroidered blankets that lay across her to conceal the sudden change in her attitude. Quickly reining in her nearly riotous feelings of enthusiasm, Melisande stated, “Oh, aye. ’Twill be pleasant.”

“‘Pleasant’ is not the word
I
would choose. Wonderful, mayhaps splendid, but ‘pleasant’? Merry child, ’tis your first gala at court, Melisande, should you not be
slightly
more jovial?”

Helena was obviously giddy with the approaching event, but for far different reasons than Melisande.

At once, Melisande unleashed the sparkling smile she had hidden from Helena a moment ago. “Is this more to your liking?” She was loath to mention that Corin was the cause of her delight.

“Much more, indeed.” Helena nodded. Dropping the subject, she continued, “Now get up, for I need your assistance with my costume, and when that task is complete, we shall see to yours. There is some broth on the table next to your bed. Drink it down and come assist me.”

Melisande climbed out of bed, donned the robe that was provided for her by the Windsor servants, and sipped on the warm broth.

* * * *

Helena stood in the center of the room so that Melisande could observe her from a better vantage point. “Oh, my lady, you have the look of a Greek goddess.”

They had taken the bolt of material Ian had brought up and draped it over and around Helena’s body. Melisande had secured the folds with a few strategically placed stitches and a leather belt at her waist. Her hair was pulled up to a taut bun and thin, silvery, metal leaves from the trimmings given to them by the shopkeepers were situated in her hair around her head as a crown. Helena took most of the leaves and formed them into a mask, leaving two holes for her eyes, and the rest she fashioned into the handle.

Later, Ian arrived with Melisande’s gold gown and headpiece from the shop in London. She put the dress on and spun around. “This is truly the most delightful gown I have ever owned. Thank you again, Helena.”

“You can thank me by turning the heads of all the young men at court this eve.”

Melisande laughed aloud.

Helena studied Melisande for a moment and her cheeks heated under the lady’s knowing gaze. “You seem to be in a more agreeable mood as our day progresses. What has employed you so?”

She smiled at Helena and swirled around again. “Do you think Corin will like my new gown?”

Helena’s chin came up and she took an indignant stance. “That young man is too forward with you. Neither of us knows this Sinclair well enough to trust him. You mustn’t be enchanted with those charms of his so easily.” Her words poured forth, scolding Melisande as if she were a child.

“My Lady Helena, who was it that gave me the advice that I ‘need to experience more of what life has to offer’?” Melisande said with her hands on her hips.

“You… You mustn’t soil your reputation.”

Melisande folded her arms across her chest. She had fared quite well without a mother for some time now and did not wish to be directed about like a pawn in a game of chess. “I do not have a reputation. What I have is a dead husband.” Melisande fairly shouted the latter, but she couldn’t help herself.
And when I think of the encouragement Helena gave me when Devin was pursuing me… Why, she practically tossed Devin and me into a room naked, and locked the door behind her.
She dared not speak her thoughts aloud. The last thing she needed was to shed more tears over the affair with Devin.

“Melisande, it is not good to speak of the dead so,” Helena said, slightly more docile.

“Well, ’tis the truth,” Melisande said and spun toward the window.
This is a most horrible conversation. I am finally beginning to enjoy life and now
…

Helena surrendered with a heavy sigh. “I suppose, in this circumstance, you are correct.”

Melisande returned her gaze to Helena and nodded curtly.

“Make a promise to me and I shall not present this subject to you again.”

“What promise is that?” Melisande asked flatly.

“Promise me you will not dance every dance with Corin this eve.”

Melisande tried not to smile thinking of the handsome Corin Sinclair.

“Fair enough. I promise.”

“I thank you.” With that, the subject was tabled. Although for how long, Melisande knew not.