‘You like patterns I see,’ a calm, melodic voice said, a smile obvious within. I turned to find Lord Tomas gazing up at me from his place at the table. He was in shadow, as though the light was being drawn out of him to pool around me. He was indeed smiling, firelight glinting off his polished teeth.
‘I have been told you were staring intensely at the embroidery.’ He continued, curious.
If he thought I was admiring the stich work he was more foolish then I had first believed. I smiled, shrugging as the light in his eyes danced.
‘Your city draws me in most peculiarly,’ I replied slowly, ‘have you been waiting long?’
Lord Tomas shook his head and stood, drawing out a chair near his own, ‘this is rather a long table, and I would rather view your beauty from near rather than afar.’
‘It would not be polite to sit at a Lord’s right hand.’ I didn’t add that being lower in status then him, I would, by protocol, be at other end of the table to him.
He smiled patiently at me, raising an eyebrow, ‘I am Lord of this city, and head of protocol within the bounds of my castle, I implore you Lady Madelaine to sit by me.’
I narrowed my eyes, admiring how he twisted social law to suit himself. Clean and well educated, always desirable in a husband. Gracefully I flowed towards him, accepting his hospitality and sitting in the chair. His smile turned rouge, tilted at the edges as he returned to his own seat. When he was comfortable I leaned forward, lightly touching him on the elbow and furthering our society rule breaking, ‘just Madelaine,’ I purred, watching his smile deepen, eyes widen at my closeness. Slowly drawing away, I slipped my hands into my lap, confident in the affect I had in men.
‘It seems breaking rules agrees with you,’ he murmured. The atmosphere danced along my emotional range, as though the stone walls were splashed in passionate dark lilac. His long dark eyelashes brushed his cheekbones like moth wings, drawing my complete attention to his eyes. This man was dangerous, both aware of the tinged tension in the room.
I fought for my wits, suddenly aware how close we were as my hands fought to lay on his. He was leaned over the table, hands folded over each other near my plate. I had met him instinctively, hair falling over my shoulders temptingly. Close enough to kiss.
He leaned back with amusement glinting in those cerulean eyes, glancing from my eyes to my lips in quick flashes.
A silent message flew from the room and servants appeared, presenting dishes in a whirl of scents and smells. A salmon swam in broth next to carved chicken, platters of bread in the shapes of animals pranced around the meat dishes. It seemed simple enough, no need for a roasted pig for a serving of two people. This show was enough to deduct how conservative and careful the Lord was with his resources, a thought I stored away for later. I looked up to find him staring openly at me, head cocked to one side as he studied me. Being caught didn’t seem to bother him, he smoothly returned his gaze to the meal, allowing a servant to fill his plate. I sat back in my chair as I nodded or shook my head at my serving servant, the room silent apart from the clatter of utensils against china.
Lord Tomas cleared his throat, ‘how have you found our home?’ he asked me.
‘Impressive,’ I replied, silently thanking my server and watching her exit. He did the same, smiling at the blushing girl. She tittered away from the table, quickly surging towards the door. In her rush she banged the pot she held against the wall, gasping as the searing hot gravy threatened to slosh against her hands and thin apron. I didn’t witness Lord Tomas stand, only his arm as he grabbed the side of the hot pot and deftly turned it away from the maid. He hissed in pain and let it roll to the ground, watching it spew its golden brown contents on the embroidered rug.
He held his welted hand up for inspection and I quickly soaked my handkerchief in a nearby water jug, walking over and wrapping the dripping material around the burn. The poor girl was face down next to the fallen pot, silent tears dripping down her trembling face.
‘Face me,’ Lord Tomas growled and she slowly rocked back on her heels. Her eyes widened at the obvious injury she had caused, speechless before him.
‘Are you hurt?’
Bewilderment coloured her petite features, a loose blond curl dangling over her frightened eyes.
‘N-no milord,’ she croaked, curling in on herself, ‘I am so sorry Lord Tomas, I had not-’
Recognising the beginnings of shocked babbling, Lord Tomas held up a hand for silence, searching her face and arms for burns. Who could hide from those piercing blue eyes? I amended the thought; who would want to?
‘Lisa,’ he sighed, frowning when she squeaked at her name. I pulled a chair out from under the table, smiling down at the kneeling girl.
‘Take my hand,’ I soothed, leaning down to grip her calloused palm. Seeing her cringe I switched my tone to commanding, ‘now.’
She instantly allowed me to pull her up, guiding her over to the chair and sitting her down. Her eyes widened further, however she placidly crossed her ankles and waited there for further instruction.
Lord Tomas raised an eyebrow at me, ‘how did you achieve that?’
‘She’s in shock; lower classes are not used to curtesy from nobles – especially handsome ones. She’s used to commands.’
‘Humble and beautiful,’ he murmured and I laughed.
‘I was talking about you.’
He blinked, slowly processing my words, ‘oh.’
Turning my attention away from him I smiled warmly at the servant girl. She looked up into my eyes and saw the confidence there, relaxing under my control.
‘Where’s William?’ I asked Lord Tomas, ‘could you ask him to guide her back to the kitchens?’
‘You can ask him yourself,’ Lord Tomas said, smiling as his Captain strode into the room. William took in the situation in a glance, walking over to the girl who sat between his Master and me. It must look bizarre, the servant girl being the only one sitting.
He gently wrapped an arm around her as she rose, providing a charming smile as he led the servant girl from the room.
‘I will be back shortly Lord Tomas,’ he said over the little blond head, ‘I wish to have Lisa settled before I begin my watch.’
‘Has the team been sent out…?’
‘An hour ago,’ William said, leading the girl out.
‘Thankyou.’
Lord Tomas turned around to look at me, fanning out his hands either side of his body to indicate the table before him, ‘my cook will have a fit if the meal returns untouched.’
I crossed the small distance between us, checking his burn with sure hands, running a gentle finger over his palm.
‘Best return to it then.’
-oOo-
We were settled in a large study, the blaze glowing in the fireplace taking my instant attention. I loved the swirls of red, gleaming orange and dancing yellow. For the past hour I had settled my head into the crook of my elbow and watched the performance before me. Lord Tomas didn’t engage me in conversation, rather took up a large brown book weary from numerous holdings.
I sensed eyes on me and lifted my own from the dancing flames, meeting his deep indigo blue gaze. His eye colour seemed to reflect his mood, different shades of blue, all passionate and sincere. His scrutiny didn’t falter, rather locked to my eyes like an insect to flame.
‘What are you reading?’ I asked quietly, lifting my head and smiling at him.
‘The daily report of the city,’ he said, a crooked grin colouring his face, ‘a rather boring affair.’
I studied his smile. It spoke of wild stories and pranks, fun and adventure. And yet I found him in a study reading reports, the same kind of reports my father called “the literature for dull people and dull happenings.’
‘What is happening in the report?’
He looked down at the huge book on his knee, ‘I wouldn’t really know.’
He chuckled at my baffled expression and pulled out a smaller volume within the pages of the report, flowers etched along its edge. He held its delicate pages carefully, almost reverently.
‘What are you really reading Lord…’ I trailed off at his look, ‘Tomas?’ I corrected.
‘It is a curious ballad I found in the library,’ he said, ‘It is about a Lord who learns to woo his love from a mouse.’
‘A mouse?’ I asked.
‘Indeed. The city heralds them as wise creators well tutored in the ways of love. Why, they have twelve children in one go, so I suppose it is fitting.’
‘It seems strange,’ I said, thinking thoughtfully as he settled the report book down by his chair, ‘my vanity table has carved mice holding the mirror.’
‘A thoughtful addition to any lady’s room,’ He laughed and turned to face me fully, ‘tell me more.’
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