The Fairy Godmother Read online

  "Everyone! Yoohoo!" She clapped her hands to gain the attention of the others in the room.

  Her suitors, Odel sighed inwardly at the thought. She was going mad with their ridiculous compliments, their sessions of preening in efforts to gain her attention, and their long, drawn-out dissertations on how handsome, wealthy, or clever they were. She had never known that noblemen could be so vapid; but then, Father had never really let her socialize. Gazing at her guests, she was almost grateful. Added to that, she was starting to find her appetite affected by their presence at the table. Odel had come to notice that they all had the oddest way of eating. First of all, they ate constantly--all day long from what she could tell. But it was the way that they ate that disturbed her most. They each brought their food up to their mouths with both hands, keeping their backs straight, heads up, and eyes alert as if watching for some thief who might steal it. It was the oddest thing she had ever seen, made stranger by the fact that they all seemed to do it. Only Lord Suthtun did not. Odel had mentioned it to Tildy, but the woman had laughed and claimed that those manners were all the rage at court these days. To Odel, it was creepy. It reminded her of something she couldn't quite place.

  All of this had managed to make Odel extremely grateful that Lord Suthtun came below for the evening meals. It gave her an excuse to escape the other men. And his habit of staying below for an hour or so afterward allowed her to stay away from them.

  Nervous of what Matilda might do, Odel had urged him into a game of chess before the fire the second night after his arrival and every night since. She had used the claim that she was chilly as an excuse to rearrange the seats. Placing her own chair with its back to the fire had forced him to sit with his back to the great hall at large. His being unable to see what was going on in the rest of the room had allowed her to relax.

  Odel had actually enjoyed their games. Michelle was a witty man and charming even, something she had not expected in a warrior. And he had not minded her beating him at chess; he even seemed mildly pleased by it. Which was very different than she was used to. Odel's father had always claimed she cheated and knocked the board to the floor when she won against him. But Lord Suthtun merely cast her an admiring glance and complimented her strategy, a reaction Odel shared when the knight himself won. She had woken up today looking forward to the evening ahead.

  Now, she felt the beginnings of panic creeping up on her again. A whole day in the presence of Tildy and her magic. If Tildy should turn one of the men into a rat or perform some other magical act in front of Lord Suthtun . . . well, she doubted he would see a difference between a fairy godmother and a witch. Feeling helpless, she listened to Tildy outline her plan for a big hunting party. A feeling of doom was dropping around her shoulders even as she did.

  "There!"

  Odel glanced at Michelle at his excited whisper. She had been busy looking over her shoulder at Tildy and the others. Her godmother rode on a small plump mare that Odel was sure did not belong to the Roswald stables, following several hundred yards behind Lord Suthtun and Odel. The other lords rode in a group behind her.

  Matilda was as stiff and tense on the animal as could be; she looked about as pleased to be on a horse again as Odel was to be on this hunt. Briefly, recalling that her godmother had died in a fall from her mount, Odel almost felt pity for her. Then her gaze fell on the pack of suitors bouncing around in their saddles behind her and Odel had felt all pity die. Good heavens! Not a one of them could ride. What sort of lords could not ride a horse?

  "Do you see it?"

  Turning away from the group trailing behind them, Odel followed Michelle's pointing finger. Their horses slowed. A huge wild boar was rooting in the bushes ahead. Drawing her mount to a complete stop, she reached instinctively for her bow, feeling excitement and fear begin to course through her. Wild swine had become rarer the last couple of years; to chance upon one now was quite lucky. The thought made her pause and glance back toward Tildy, her eyes narrowed. Any good fortune was suspect.

  Expecting to see the others hanging back, Odel's eyes widened as she saw that Tildy and the men hadn't yet slowed. They were riding up at full speed, apparently unaware that she and Michelle had come upon game--and dangerous game at that. Her hand jerking on her reins, Odel instinctively shouted out a warning.

  A curse from Lord Suthtun was followed quickly by an angry squeal. Odel whirled back to see what had happened. She realized at once that her shout must have startled Michelle just as he had taken aim. An arrow now quivered in the boar's hindquarters, and she was quite sure that he wouldn't have aimed there. But there was little time to think of much more than that. Michelle had feathered the beast's posterior, and the boar wasn't at all pleased.

  "Oh, dear," she murmured, then tightened her fingers on her reins in alarm. Michelle shouted a warning as the boar charged.

  The next few minutes became a swirl of chaos. Like a pack of dogs on the scent of blood, the suitors who had flanked Odel's aunt now charged onto the scene. They swarmed around Odel and Michelle, crowding them so much that there was no way to swerve or retreat as the boar came at them, squealing madly. The horses, smarter than their riders, began to whinny and snort, rearing back in terror. Odel managed to keep her seat, but the lords--lousy riders all--went tumbling to the ground. Their shouts were added to the chaos as they rolled and darted about, trying to avoid the feet of the horses off of which they had fallen.

  Given so many new targets, the boar suddenly stopped, apparently unsure who to attack first. After a brief hesitation, it headed after the nearest man. Shrieking, the lord in question charged for the nearest tree, the boar hot on his heels.

  Had she not been busy trying to stay in the saddle, Odel would have marveled at the man's agility as he scrambled up that tree. He was quickly followed by his friends, one after the other, as the boar charged each.

  It would have been the perfect opportunity for Odel or Michelle to shoot another arrow into the boar, but neither could get a clear shot from their bucking steeds. Seated side-saddle as she was, and with her horse dancing on its hind legs, Odel began to fear she could even stay mounted. Feeling herself begin to slide toward the ground, she desperately tightened her hold on the reins. Then, realizing that she was doomed to fall, she let go and concentrated on landing on her feet.

  Now she was a target for the boar. But, unlike the others, Odel knew she couldn't scramble up a tree--especially not as she was dressed. Not wasting any time, the moment her feet hit the snowy ground, Odel grabbed up her skirts and began to run. Behind her she heard Michelle shout, the boar snort, and Tildy's high-pitched yell, but she didn't take the chance of looking back. She had no time. Boars with their vicious tusks were deadly--especially when injured and angry. She charged into the woods at full tilt, wishing that skirts weren't so hard to run in, wishing that the ground were not so slippery with winter snow, and wishing above all that she had stayed home.

  Chapter Five

  One minute Odel was running for her life and the next her legs were pumping uselessly in the air; she had been caught around the waist and lifted off the ground. Michelle now held her, and she hung down the side of his horse. Apparently he had regained control of his mount enough to rescue her. Odel had barely grasped that when something tugged at her skirts. Peering down, she cried out in horror. The boar was less than a heartbeat behind her, and one of the beast's tusks had caught in the hem of her skirts. She felt her stomach roil, but Michelle tugged his reins to the side, swerving away from the boar and ripping her skirts free.

  Looking back, Odel saw the beast turn to charge after them, but Michelle put on more speed, urging his mount to a gallop. It quickly widened the distance between them leaving the snarling animal behind in the brush.

  Several moments after the boar had dropped out of sight, Michelle let his mount slow then come to a halt. Using both hands, he lifted Odel and drew her around before him on the saddle. Seating her sideways, he frowned. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes," she br
eathed, managing a weak smile. "But that was close."

  "Aye." He didn't smile--in fact, he looked quite grim. He glanced back over his shoulder. There was no sign of the boar now. "You would think those idiots would know better than to charge in like that."

  Odel heartily agreed, but merely murmured, "Thank you--for saving me."

  Turning his attention back to her, Michelle's expression softened in a small smile. "It was my pleasure," he assured her. His voice was husky, and he raised one hand to brush a strand of hair off her cheek.

  Odel covered his hand with her own, but glanced shyly downward. But not for long. Michelle immediately tilted her head back up, his lips coming down to cover hers.

  At first, Odel froze under the gentle caress of his lips. Other than Lord Cheshire's slobbery attempt to drown her, she had never been kissed. And where Lord Cheshire's mushy ministrations had made her want to wretch, this man's kiss was heavenly. It was strong, warm, and demanding. Masterful.

  It seemed so natural as he urged her lips apart for an open-mouth kiss, that Odel didn't think a thing of it. She merely slid her arms around his neck and held on as he invaded her. Her toes curled in her slippers and little moans sounded in her throat, shocking her, but she found herself terribly disappointed when at last he broke away.

  Sighing, Odel opened her eyes slowly. She peered up at him, but he was sitting stiff in his saddle, his head up and alert as he peered over her shoulder. Still, it took a moment before the roaring his kisses had caused in her ears subsided enough for her to hear what had drawn his attention. Something was moving through the woods toward them. Odel leaned to the side to peer over his shoulder just as Tildy came crashing into the clearing on her ungainly little mare.

  "There you are! Well, thank goodness you are all right." Matilda drew her mount to a halt and peered at the two of them. Displeasure tightened her lips as she noted the way Odel rested on the saddle before Suthtun, her arms around his neck; the way his own held her about the waist. Surely she was annoyed that one of the suitors she had supplied was not in Michelle's place.

  "The boar was brought down, and a couple of the others even managed to fell a stag. They also bagged a couple of pheasants, so we shall have a fine feast tonight." Tildy pronounced this abruptly, then turned to head back.

  "What? How is that possible?" Michelle asked. "We just left the clearing."

  Odel closed her eyes. She knew how it was possible. Tildy's magic, that was how.

  "Well, some of us were busy while you two were mucking about," Matilda snapped.

  "We were not mucking about," Odel said at once, coloring. "I was running for my life and Lord Suthtun saved me."

  "Hmmph." Matilda's lips tightened further. "And I suppose it was luck where he brought his horse to a halt?"

  Michelle and Odel shared a perplexed look, then peered about in bewilderment. There was nothing but leafless trees and snow. Then Odel glanced upward, and a small gasp slid from her lips. Mistletoe. The upper branches of the trees sheltering them were laced liberally with the vine. She hadn't noticed it until now. And judging from Lord Suthtun's expression, neither had he.

  "Your horse ran for home before anyone could stop him, my dear," Matilda announced, drawing their attention back to her. "You shall have to ride back with me."

  Odel turned her dubious gaze to the mare her aunt rode. It was extremely small, and really rather round--like the woman who rode it. Odel had her doubts as to whether the animal could manage both of them. Apparently Lord Suthtun did as well. His arm tightened around her waist. "There is no need for that, my lady. She can ride back with me."

  Matilda gave a snort of displeasure, then without another word she turned her horse and trotted off, leaving them staring after her.

  "Well," Odel said uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes. "It would seem the hunt is over."

  "Aye," Michelle said. He peered down at her silently for a moment, then glanced up at the mistletoe overhead. "It would seem you owe me a kiss."

  "Oh?" Odel glanced up as well. "I thought you already took one."

  "That was for saving your life. This one would be for the mistletoe."

  Odel blushed prettily, then leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. "How is that?" she asked a bit breathlessly. She settled back on the saddle.

  "That was very nice," he said solemnly. "But there is an awful lot of mistletoe."

  Feeling heat and excitement pool in her belly, Odel nodded just as solemnly. "Aye, there is, my lord."

  With a smile he bent to kiss her. It was not the sweet, swift rubbing of lips she had just given him, but another of the long, hot, toe-curling variety. And this time, Odel's reaction was more violent. She was helpless; arching into him, her body responded of its own accord. Her tongue slid out to join his, her fingers curling almost painfully in his hair, and she shuddered. Surely, this was a Pandora's box, this reaction that burst to life within her, begging to be opened.

  She wanted more, and that was frightening. It was a hunger she had never before experienced, that swelled within her.

  The years under her tyrannical father had convinced Odel that marriage and children were not for her. She'd had no wish for a husband who might be as cold and dictatorial as her own father had been. But that had left her feeling lonely and empty. Until now. Now the emptiness was being filled, the loneliness abolished. And, she realized in some far-off part of her mind, it wasn't just the kiss that made her desire him so. It was the chats and chess by the fire, the soft laughter over dinner, his warm arms that had saved her from the boar. This passion that was licking at her insides had begun some time ago. She was beginning to care for this man, and couldn't lie to herself about it. She had wanted him from the first moment she'd seen him.

  His presence at Roswald was a dangerous thing, she had known that from the start. If he saw Matilda up to her tricks, there would be trouble. But had Odel approached Tildy about using some of her fairy dust to cure the boy? Nay. Had she suggested he continue home and leave the boy to be nursed? She might have sent Eadsele home with one of her men-at-arms when he was recovered, but nay. Had she encouraged the man to stay above stairs for the evening meal to reduce the risk of danger? Nay. In fact, it was she who had suggested he might enjoy a break, it was she who had insisted he join them.

  Why? Because Odel had enjoyed his presence at dinner, and their shared evenings. Too much to send him away. She had spent the last few days wandering about the keep waiting impatiently for supper to arrive. She had alternated between thinking up excuses to visit him and Eadsele in their room, and thinking up witty things she might say, stories she had heard that might amuse him.

  Odel liked this man. She enjoyed his company. She found him handsome when he laughed. And now, she realized with a sense of foreboding as he slowly drew away to peer down at her, she hungered for his kisses and touch like a flower craves sunlight. Odel wanted to pull his head back for another meshing of mouths. She wanted to cleave to him. She wanted to strip off his clothing and feel his naked body against hers. To Odel, all of that was more dangerous than his discovery of Matilda's magic could ever be.

  Dear God, she wondered with dread, how had she let this happen?

  "You are so incredibly beautiful."

  Odel blinked at his soft words and felt her fears momentarily dissipate. Did he truly believe that she was beautiful? For most of the last twenty-five years she had been a shadow, her face pale, her limp hair pulled tightly back off her face, her expression as unhappy as she had been. But in the week after her father's death, since Matilda's arrival, Odel had felt herself bloom. Her face had regained some color. Her hair now held a healthy shine and even a slight wave. And in the week since Lord Suthtun had arrived, she had even begun to smile.

  "You are beautiful, too," she whispered shyly. Much to her amazement, he immediately threw back his head, and laughed.

  "Nay, my lady. I am an old warhorse. Battle scarred and--"

  "You are not old, my lord," Odel interrupted abruptly. "Why yo
u cannot be more than thirty."

  "Thirty-one," he corrected gently, brushing a tress off her face. "But I used to feel much older."

  "Used to?" Unconsciously she tipped her face, encouraging him to stroke her face as if she were a kitten.

  "I find that being around you makes me feel like a boy," he murmured huskily, then reached for the reins of his mount. Taking them in his hand, he blew a breath out. She found herself staring at those lips that had caressed hers a moment before, and he managed a crooked smile. "I suppose we had best return now."

  "Aye," Odel agreed softly.

  Nodding, Michelle started to urge his mount forward, then turned it toward the nearest tree. Drawing it to a halt, he reached out and plucked down a sprig of mistletoe. He set it in her hair just above her ear, kissed her quickly, then plucked a berry from the small sprig, and slipped it into his pocket. "A remembrance."

  Swallowing, Odel smiled weakly, then turned to look ahead as he urged his mount forward again. Remembrance? For when he left and her life returned to the lonely place it had been.

  That thought made her so sad that Odel found herself unable to think of a single witty or amusing thing to say during the ride back to the keep. Instead, they were both silent. It wasn't until they entered the keep that either of them spoke, and then they both gasped in surprise. The hall had been transformed. Mistletoe, pine bowers, and streams of cloth and ribbon hung everywhere, and the tables were covered with white linen and preparations were under way for a feast.

  "There you are!" Tildy suddenly appeared and bustled toward them.

  "What is all this?" Odel asked in amazement.

  "Why 'tis for the feast," the woman exclaimed as if it should be self-explanatory. "And we are going to have wonderful entertainment. A traveling group arrived while we were out. We shall have jugglers and tumblers, and a dancing bear. It will be marvelous!"

  "All of this just to celebrate today's hunt?" Odel muttered in disbelief.

  "Well, not just that," her godmother exclaimed. "But Christmas is coming on rather quickly, and that is a time for joy and celebration."

  "What? No Lord Suthtun this morning?"