Lord of Misrule (Below the Salt #8)

Chapter 6

G od’s eyes, he’d never meant to kiss her! Even though he’d wanted to. Tolin held out his arms as his squire buckled his armor in place. The joust had already started and Tolin was up next.

“Is something the matter, my lord?” asked Jarvis.

“Nay. Of course not.”

“You seem upset about something. Or distracted. What is it?” Jarvis pulled the last strap tight and secured it in place with the buckle. “Is it something about the joust?”

“Huh? Nay, I’m not worried about the joust. I could win a joust with my eyes closed.”

“Eyes closed?” His squire stood upright to get his helm. “Like the way that baker woman closed her eyes when you kissed her under the kissing bough?”

“I don’t feel guilty about that, no matter what you think.”

“I never said anything about feeling guilty, my lord. Why? Do you feel guilty for having kissed her?” Jarvis picked up the helm.

“Why should I? She’s just a servant.”

“A servant?” Jarvis shined the top of the metal helm with his sleeve. “I thought she was a widow who owned a bakery in town. Has she been demoted to a servant now?”

“Nay! I didn’t mean that. I just meant—why am I explaining anything to you? Now give me my helm and get out there and hand me my lance. I have a joust to win.”

“Aye, my lord.” Jarvis handed the helm over and ran out to the practice field.

Tolin looked down, able to see his reflection on the surface. Why had kissing Kit Baker shaken him up so much? Mayhap because she was different than most women he knew. She was spry and confident and not afraid to stand up to him. She could also bake better than anyone he knew. Damn, the woman was also attractive. He had wanted to kiss her badly, but was going to refrain from doing so. After all, she was there with her thief of a son and working off his sentence. Something warned him not to do it. But he’d wanted to so badly. And when his brothers walked up and more or less challenged him, he did what he always did. He took the challenge. But this was one challenge that didn’t make him feel like a winner. Part of him felt as if he’d used her somehow. That didn’t sit right with him. He’d never felt this way in his life and didn’t understand it.

“Ready to lose?” It was Daegel, suited up, ready for the joust.

“I won’t lose.” Tolin put his helm under one arm and tightened his weapon belt.

“You did today.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t get the girl.”

“Brother, you are spouting nonsense, now stop it.”

“Am I? I saw the way you looked at Kit and the way she reacted to your kiss as well.”

Tolin’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“She was disappointed that you stopped. I could see it on her face.”

“You don’t know that. And since when are you an expert on knowing what a woman is feeling?” Tolin figured Daegel was goading him again.

“I might not know for sure, but at least I am not as blind as you are when it comes to women. That one likes you, Tolin. You’d better watch out.”

“Watch out for what?” He headed to the door.

“If she gets her hooks in you, you’ll be no different than Rook and Raven.”

“There you go with spouting nonsense again. You make no sense, Daegel.”

“I make all the sense in the world, Tolin. You’re going to end up marrying a commoner. Just like Rook and Raven.”

“That is where you are wrong, brother. Because I am never going to marry at all. And if I do change my mind, I can promise you it’ll be with a noblewoman.”

“You’ll crumble, just like the others. And Father will return to discover that you disappointed him too.”

Tolin stopped in his tracks and turned back to his brother. “I don’t disappoint Father. If I did, do you think he would put me in charge of the castle in his absence?”

“That does surprise the rest of us immensely,” said Daegel. “The only thing we can figure is that it is a test of some kind.”

“It’s not a test. It is because Father knows I am the only one capable of planning a successful string of celebrations from now until Twelfth Night.”

“Aye, that must be it. Now, let’s go joust so I can show you just how full of yourself you really are.”

“Kit, do you really think it was wise for us to come to watch the joust when there is so much yet to be done?” Brenna struggled to keep up with Kit as they made their way to the practice field. Her legs were a lot shorter than Kit’s. Her pregnancy being so advanced made it hard for her to walk at all.

“Parker wanted to watch the knights joust and I don’t see why he can’t.” Kit reached back for her son. “Parker, keep up. It is so crowded that I don’t want to lose you.” She took his hand in hers.

“I don’t want to watch the joust, I want to play with the dog,” the boy answered with a pout.

Brenna rubbed her belly and gave Kit a knowing glance. “Mmm hmm. It was Parker who wanted to be here. Right.”

Kit was caught in her lie and felt embarrassed that she hadn’t been honest from the start. “All right, I admit it, I was curious to see Tolin joust. Do you think he is any good?”

“Lord Tolin seems to be good at anything he does, if you haven’t noticed,” answered her sister. “Did you know that I overheard the servants talking. There isn’t a game he’s lost in years now. They say he is so competitive that if it looks like he might not win, he makes everyone keep playing until he does. He is a man who doesn’t tolerate losing.”

“He does seem to put a lot of importance on games, celebrating, and having fun. Especially when he wins. I believe the man has too much self-importance.”

“You say that like you are disgusted, but I can tell you’re not. Admit it. You like him, don’t you?” Brenna was direct and to the point.

“Brenna, please.” Kit glanced over at her sister and then down to her son. “This is a conversation for a later date.” She didn’t want Parker to hear this, but she also didn’t want to answer because she wasn’t sure yet what she thought or felt about Lord Tolin. All she knew was that he was handsome and sparked her interest with his passionate kiss. Then again, he did sentence her son for something he didn’t even do. She needed to be careful.

“All right. We will talk later,” said Brenna. “Oh, Kit, look!” She grabbed Kit’s arm. I see an open spot on the bench right up front. Let’s get it, fast. I cannot remain on my feet much longer.”

“No, not up there,” protested Kit, not wanting Tolin to know she was there watching him. Brenna hurried for the bench, anyway. Not wanting to lose her in the crowd, Kit followed her sister, taking Parker with her. They had just gotten seated when the herald announced that Lord Tolin was going to joust with his brother, Lord Daegel. Cheers and shouts went up from the crowd. It seemed as if Lord Tolin was a favorite on the jousting field. And with the ladies.

“Tolin will win, he always does,” said a woman nearby. “He is so strong and handsome.”

“I heard he kissed a servant under the kissing bough today,” said another woman behind her hand.

Kit gasped and tried to hide her face from them.

“I wish he’d kiss me under the kissing bough,” said the first woman. “Every girl in the castle hopes they will find the bean in their cake so they can order him to spend the day with them and kiss them under the mistletoe.”

“Find the bean? What does that mean?” Brenna had started up a conversation with the women and Kit wished she hadn’t. She didn’t want anyone to know she was the one who’d received the kiss. For some reason, it embarrassed her even though she didn’t understand why.

“The Bean King or Bean Queen is the one who finds a bean in their cake during the Christmas dinner,” the first servant girl explained. “It can be anyone. Even a servant, it doesn’t matter.”

“I still don’t understand,” said Brenna. “Why would they want to?”

“Don’t you know? The one who finds the bean has power,” explained the other girl.

“What kind of power?” asked Brenna.

“They can tell nobles what to do.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” said the first girl. “Until their rule is over, they can ask a noble for anything, and the nobles have to give it to them.”

“Their rule?” asked Kit, trying to get into the conversation without showing too much of her face. “What kind of things can they ask for?”

“Anything at all, until the end of their rule,” said the girl. “Until Twelfth Night, they can live like kings or queens for the first time ever. This is a very coveted position. I always wanted to find the bean but never have. But if I did, the first thing I’d do is to order Lord Tolin to kiss me.” She and her friend giggled at that, but the giggles were drowned out by the shouting of the crowd. Tolin had easily won the joust against his brother.

The servants next to her stood and waved their hands in the air, trying to get Tolin’s attention. Tolin rode over to collect all the support he could. He really knew how to excite a crowd.

“Take my favor,” called out one of the servant girls, ripping her sleeve from her gown and holding it out, waving it in the air. If Tolin accepted it, he would lower the tip of his lance and the girl would slip it onto the pole.

All of the women held out a sleeve or veil or some kind of personal belonging, hoping Tolin would choose theirs. Kit sat quietly watching.

“Lord Tolin! Lord Tolin, we came to see you win the joust!” Parker jumped up and down waving his arms, shouting to be heard.

“Shhhh. Sit down, Parker. That is not appropriate behavior.” Kit tried to still her son, hoping Tolin didn’t notice them.

“This is a joust and a very appropriate time to shout,” came Tolin’s voice as he rode up and stopped directly across from her. “However, to leave the kitchen when you are supposed to be preparing my meal is far from proper or tolerated.” Tolin sat atop his horse on the opposite side of the wooden fence scowling at her.

“Lord Tolin.” Kit meekly looked up. Their eyes interlocked for a mere second before she dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry for leaving the kitchen. Parker wanted to see the joust. I’ll leave at once.” She started to stand, but one of the servants next to her called out.

“He wants your favor! He chose you. You are so lucky. Give it to him, quickly.”

“What?” Kit was confused. “I don’t have a favor and neither did I offer him one.”

“Use your hair ribbon, Kit.” Brenna jumped up and untied it from Kit’s hair.

“Brenna, what are you doing?” Kit asked from the side of her mouth.

“Having fun.” Brenna giggled. “What are you doing, sister? Being too serious again? Relax, Kit. It is just a game.”

Kit swallowed hard and looked back up at Tolin, expecting to see his eyes of fire. The crowd chanted his name and called to him. It was all so overwhelming and felt like thunder pounding in her ears, making her head spin. Brenna looped the green hair ribbon and pushed it into Kit’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Kit said once again, clutching her hair ribbon like a lifeline. Heat rose in her body making her feel as if she would faint. She didn’t like to be the center of attention. Now, everyone was staring at her.

“Put the ribbon on the end of his lance,” called out one of the servants who was crazy for Lord Tolin. “You are so lucky. He’s chosen your favor! I wish I was you right now.”

Kit looked over at the girls. “Nay, you have it wrong,” she tried to tell them, but stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked back to see Tolin touching her with the tip of his lance.

“I don’t have all day, baker. I have a joust to win,” he told her. “Now give me your favor.”

“Oh, Kit, hurry!” Brenna took Kit’s hand and pushed it closer to the end of the lance. “Slip the loop over the end. Everyone is watching.”

Kit felt her blood coursing through her. She was sure her face had turned bright red the way it always did giving away her emotions. Everyone watched her, when all she had wanted to do was to keep hidden in the sea of onlookers. Too late now. With shaking hands she reached up and slipped her hair ribbon onto Tolin’s proffered lance. Her knees shook. In the past, whenever she was around a handsome man she couldn’t control her nerves. It was happening once again. But this time, with Tolin.

Tolin lifted his lance high in the air and the ribbon slipped down to the hilt of the pole. He held his lance high in the air and rode back to the lists. The crowd cheered wildly. The noise in the stands became unbearably loud.

“Brenna, I don’t feel well. I need to get back to the kitchen,” she told her sister. She looked down to see her hands shaking uncontrollably. Her anxiety was taking over.

“But don’t you want to stay and watch Lord Tolin joust?” asked Brenna. “He is up against Lord Rook next. And he is wearing your favor.”

“Nay, I really don’t. Come, Parker, we need to get back to the castle.” She quickly got up, and Brenna followed as they made their way through the rowdy crowd. Kit needed to get back to the safety of the kitchen where she knew what was expected of her. Where she knew she could perform well. She was out of her element here at the joust, giving hair ribbons to a nobleman. What was she thinking? Kit now realized that she never should have come at all.

Tolin couldn’t help but feel smitten as he rode back to the lists with Kit’s favor looped over his lance. So, she did like the kiss under the mistletoe after all, just like Daegel had said. If not, she wouldn’t have come to watch him joust.

“Lord Tolin, are you ready?” His squire looked up at him. “Lord Rook and you are tied. Whoever wins this round will be the champion of the joust this Christmas.”

“And that will be me,” he said, feeling more alive and powerful than ever. He wanted more than anything to look good in front of Kit. And now that he had her favor, he was sure her eyes would be fastened on him the entire time.

The joust began. Tolin didn’t bother to lower the faceplate on his helm. He wanted to have a good view of Kit watching him win the competition against his brother. He steadied his lance and kicked his heels into his horse as he bolted forward down the list. One last time his eyes sought out Kit. To his dismay he saw her leaving her seat and pushing her way through the crowd. Why was she leaving now? He wanted her to see him win again.

The crowd screamed and Tolin brought his attention back to the joust, but it was too late. His distraction had been a fatal mistake. Rook’s lance knocked into him, catching him off guard and pushing him backwards. He tried to regain his balance, but the weight of his own lance pulled at him. He dropped the pole and flipped backward over his horse, landing facedown in the mud. The crowd went wild. And then the master of ceremonies proclaimed Rook the winner of the Christmas joust.

“Damn it,” swore Tolin, pushing up from the mud. With his attention on Kit, it cost him the win.

“Brother, you made that so easy for me.” Rook rode over, looking down at him from atop his horse. “I guess your winning streak is broken now.”

“Nay, it isn’t. I was distracted, or I would have won.”

“Distracted?” Rook laughed, turning a full circle on his horse, holding his lance high in the air. “Perhaps it was that ribbon fluttering in your face? I’m sure the lady whose favor you chose won’t be so infatuated with you anymore.”

Tolin looked over to his lance covered in mud. Kit’s green hair ribbon was wrapped around it and covered with mud as well. All he’d wanted was to look good in her eyes, even if she was naught but a commoner. Any other woman would have clung to the lists and watched intently as he jousted with her favor attached to his pole. This wench got up and walked away as if she didn’t even care. He didn’t like that at all.

“My lord, are you hurt?” Jarvis ran to help him up from the mud.

“He’s not hurt,” spat Rook. “Not physically. He’s taken blows much worse than this. However, I think his pride might be bruised. Well, excuse me, Tolin, I need to take my victory lap. I’ll meet you inside where we can celebrate my win with a tankard of ale.” Rook rode away, circling the field, working the crowd into a frenzy.

“I can’t believe you lost a joust to Lord Rook,” said Jarvis, helping him up as his armor was heavy and bulky. “You’ve beaten him at the joust for years now. What happened?”

“ She happened,” he spat, storming away, ready to wring the girl’s neck for ever leaving the kitchen in the first place. Tolin lost today in more ways than one. Jarvis was right. He hadn’t lost a joust to Rook in years now. Plus, he had never ever lost the attention of a woman, especially when he’d chosen her favor. No noblewoman would have walked away. Kit shouldn’t affect him this way. He shouldn’t care. But the more she ignored him, the more he wanted her. And he wouldn’t stop trying until he had her. Because Tolin Blake was not a man who would tolerate losing again.