Happily Ever After

Part Five

Greetings and salutations, fair citizens! A great season has passed since we have paid a visit to the fair kingdom of Sleepyside. When we last bid our tale adieu, James the Second of Rochester laid eyes upon his uncle, Lord James the First of Sleepyside. Upon their meeting, Lord James the elder informed his nephew that Lord Kobus Jones of Albany was not as honorable as he portrayed himself. Not only does James’ stepfather have evil intentions, we have also seen hints that Master Lyttle, royal steward to Lord James, has sinister intentions. James of Rochester has declared his love for Beatrix, and has received his uncle’s blessing in seeking a relationship with the maiden. Finally, we paid a visit to our mysterious cloaked figure. After watching the Frayne men in his crystal ball, he was sorely vexed and overturned the table whereupon sat his crystal ball. He sent riders out to meet the rogues, Richardus and Lodewijk, and has given them secret orders.

Join us now in our medieval fairy tale universe as we pay a visit to the Beldens’ cottage. Will James plight his troth to his beloved? Perchance will Beatrix accept? Wherefore shall Rubertus cause mischief? Finally, what shall the cloaked man plan next? If you are curious, step back in time in the outdoor amphitheatre of The Cameo and continue with us…

Chapter Nine

Beatrix clambered about the cottage’s small kitchen, chasing her youngest sibling. “Rubertus!” she exclaimed as she wearily removed a stray curl from her eyes, for what seemed to be the thousandth time that day.

“Come to me, hereunto!” she commanded. “I shall grant you leniency, if you hop in your box forthwith!”

Rubertus peeked out his wee green head from behind a barrel containing salted haberden. “Ribbit!’ he croaked.

“I refuse to beg, brother,” Beatrix replied, trying to control her temper. “All little frogs must partake of a brief repose at noontide.”

Rubertus fleetingly showed himself long enough to furiously hop up and down, as if to prove he was in no wise weary.

“I care not that you have plenteous energy,” Beatrix scolded, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Obediently return to your quarters, and I shall find some lovely flies for your post meridian snack.”

Not the slightest bit dissuaded, Rubertus croaked and returned to his hiding spot behind the haberden barrel.

Beatrix scowled and placed her hands upon her shapely hips. “Rubertus!” she chided. “I believe you are mocking me! If you do not cease this bedlam immediately and come hither, we shall partake of frog’s legs during our eventide repast!”

Undaunted, Rubertus hopped from behind the barrel to a new hiding spot, betwixt the firewood box and the hearth. “Ribbit!” he croaked in an almost taunting manner, glancing out at his sister.

Beatrix veritably howled in frustration. “I shall report your impropriety to Aunt Aletta when she calls upon us two fortnights hence! Perchance, Maarten would find a stone statue of a toad pleasing for his natal anniversary!”

He peeked out his tiny head yet again, moreover flicking his long tongue thither in Beatrix’s direction.

“Of all the impudence!” she cried. “Statuary is too good for you, you iniquitous moldwarp! I shall devise a more torturous end for you, you loathsome creature!”

Rubertus hopped out from behind the wood box, and quite unbelievably, laughed─ as best a frog could, of course.

Judging this moment to be the most opportune, Beatrix leaped to the spot whereupon her quarry had previously rested. However, the roguish amphibian possessed lightening fast reflexes, and before he could be captured, he hopped underneath the trestle table.

Beatrix hastily wiped away a frustrated tear. She sat up, pulled up the skirt of her kirtle, as well as her many petticoats, and examined a cut above her woolen knee stockings, acquired during her tumble.

“Drat!” she exclaimed tearfully. “If I am to suffer such an injury, at the very least, my stockings could have been spoiled, insomuch I would not have to wear the bothersome things.”

Rubertus, though mischievous, was not an uncaring lad. He hesitantly jumped to his sister’s side as to verify her well-being. She promptly seized that opportunity to scoop up the miscreant creature.

She firmly held her brother, such as he was, close to her face. “Rubertus, when, or should I say, if, Aunt Aletta elects to transform you to your former self, I shall let daylight into you.”

Dully chastised, he hung his small green head sorrowfully and croaked an apology.

Before she could respond, a shrill whistle captured her attention. Bob! Bob-white!

“James!” she exclaimed, her china blue eyes widened in surprise. A second Bob-White whistle echoed throughout the tiny kitchen.

Beatrix hurried to the eastern window of the cottage and scanned the grounds. She viewed James’ retreating form as he galloped to the thick woodland betwixt Crabapple Cottage and Ten Acres Castle.

“James travels to the spot where we made our acquaintance!” she cried happily. “I must needs go thither at once.” She frantically searched for her brother’s box. Alas, the search was in vain, for the container could not be found.

Beatrix’s heart pounded. “Perchance he leaves while I seek for Rubertus’ box.” A desperate plan evolved in her mind. She held the wee frog up so their eye levels were comparable. “We are taking a brief sojourn to the forest, little brother. Behave, or else when I locate your box, it shall become your coffin.”

He croaked plaintively, knowing it unwise to trifle with his sister when she used that particular tone.

After a vain attempt to bring order to her curls, they left the cozy cottage. Beatrix scurried down the path, Rubertus safely in her grasp, whereat she first met James.

Upon spying his russet head, she placed the tiny amphibian inide the deep pocket of her apron. “Remember little brother, one misplaced croak, and you shall take up permanent dwelling in the castle’s ganderobe,” she threatened sweetly.

Beatrix caught her breath upon sight of James. He stood beside his noble ebony steed, whispering sweet nothings into the animal’s ear. His words seemed to bring delight to Jupiter. The large creature whinnied, as if in reply and, moreover, rubbed his nose against his master. James chuckled and scratched behind the horse’s ears.

She sighed dreamily as she studied the young nobleman. Breathlessly, she leaned against an oak tree and lazily admired his supple form.

The spring breeze gently disheveled James’ thick, russet hair, the effect making him appear quite boyish, in spite of his manly build. The sun cast its warm rays upon his face, accentuating his rugged features. Albeit a great span separated them, Beatrix gasped at the brilliance of his green eyes. Their vert hue veritably shamed the lush forest greenery.

Her admiring gaze traveled to James’ arms, as he affectionately stroked Jupiter’s mane. The muscles of his biceps and forearms rippled under the thin fabric of the linen shift he wore. Golden morse, garnished with emeralds, attached a regal forest green cape to the epaulets upon his breastplate. Thread made from beaten gold had been used to skillfully embroider the Fraynes’ heraldic arms upon the cape’s rich fabric.

In order to adjust Jupiter’s bridle, James moved to the opposite side of the horse, and hitherto faced Beatrix. She unabashedly gawked at his supple chest, emphasized by the military hauberk he wore. The leather breastplate was an unusual shade of oxblood. Its fine patina signified the garment had been worn by several of James’ forebears. The Fraynes’ insignia, a mighty, winged horse, had been acid-etched in the mahogany leather and embossed in beaten gold.

A heated blush covered Beatrix’s cheeks as her eyes wandered further down to James’ powerful legs. His muscled thighs strained the sturdy material of the breeches that girded his lower body.

The passion which stirred in her breast made her tremble with fear. She took a deep breath to cleanse her mind of the ardent thoughts the sight of James invoked. She fanned her face in a vain attempt to cool her flaming cheeks.

Hitherto unaware of her presence, James glanced up from Jupiter, and spied Beatrix leaning against a great oak tree thither in the distance. His heart pounded as he admired her beauty, surpassing even the loveliness of the picturesque setting around them.

He smiled in greeting, and gallantly bowed low as she approached him. “’Tis a pleasure to see you, Lady Beatrix.”

She blushed a deep crimson shade, as she looked at him through her thick, sandy eyelashes. “My lord, I should bow to you,” she answered breathlessly. “I am the daughter of a lowly ceorl. My father is a noble man in heart, but truly, blue blood does not run through his veins.”

“My father taught me that true nobility could be found in one’s soul, rather than in his bloodline,” James replied gently. “Upon speaking to your father this day, I perceive he is as noble as any mighty king.”

Beatrix shyly looked up at James through her lowered lashes. “Thank you, my lord. That is quite solicitous of you to say.”

“I only speak the truth,” James answered, his heart fluttering as he gazed at her sweet smile. He motioned to a fallen log. “May I offer you a seat, m’lady? ‘Tis the finest one in all the forest.”

Beatrix laughed gaily. “Such chivalry,” she declared with a mock curtsey.

James grinned. “Let it never be said that chivalry is dead amongst the House of Frayne.” He hastily withdrew his cape and laid it upon the side of the felled tree. He gallantly bowed, then motioned for Beatrix to be seated.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“The pleasure is mine, m’lady,” James murmured. After she claimed her seat, James sat beside her, an appropriate distance separating them. “I trust your journey home day past was devoid of hazards?” he inquired solicitously. “I have been quite remorseful that I did not safely accompany you to your cottage.”

“That is very honorable of you, Lord James, but I assure you that I arrived upon my doorstep unharmed. Contrary to the beliefs of my father and brethren, I am most able to defend myself.” Beatrix indignantly sniffed and tossed her lovely xanthous curls.

James’ pulse quickened as he watched the enchanting sight before him. “A thousand apologies, fair maiden. In no wise did I intend to question your capabilities.”

A rueful smile tugged at the corners of Beatrix’s full lips. Once again, her cheeks flamed. “The apology is mine, my lord. To my great vexation, I oft speak more swiftly than I think. Your intentions were noble. I should not have berated your chivalry.” The concerned expression upon James’ face lulled her into a comfortable ease. She found it surprisingly natural to confide in this young man, who only yesterday had been a stranger.

“I oft grow weary of the smothering concern shown by my kinsmen,” she continued. “They feel it is their duty to protect me. Constantly, they look over my shoulder, supervising my activities. In no manner do they intend to cause me hurt, but I admit that it grieves my heart to be so suppressed.

“Likewise, I assumed your intent was to shelter me,” Beatrix admitted quietly. “However, after my unfortunate encounter day before, ‘tis understandable that you were anxious regarding my well-being. I should not have unleashed my resentment upon you. Will you forgive my impudence, my lord?”

James caught his breath at the vulnerable expression upon her face. In her eyes, he saw complete honesty, a trait he admired above all others. He swallowed deeply, fretting his pounding heart would cause the earth to quake. At that moment, he would have given her the moon, as well as all the eventide light’s sister stars, if it had been in his power to give.

“My forgiveness is granted,” he replied softly.

“I do want to thank you for your concern,” Beatrix repeated, an enchanting smile upon her face. “I did not mean to sound ungrateful for your chivalry.”

“You are most welcome, my lady,” James answered, spellbound by her unassuming beauty. He studied the slight creature before him. In appearance, she personified the lovely, helpless damsel from tales of yore. However, beneath her feminine exterior, strength, determination and courage emanated from her soul. As James gazed into her china blue eyes, he felt an intense connection.

“Are you burdened by your family’s control?” he inquired quietly.

“A bit,” Beatrix whispered. “Has anyone sought command of your destiny, Lord James?”

His emerald eyes locked with her sapphire ones. “Aye,” he earnestly replied, thinking of his stepfather. “I yearn to spread my wings, and fly to skies of my own choosing. However, there are those who desire to force their chosen course upon me.”

A silent lull came over the forest. Albeit, ‘twas not one of discomfort. Rather, the quiet resulted from kindred hearts, conversing in a language which had no need of words. The only speech necessary was spoken through stolen glances and timid smiles.

At long last, Beatrix nervously cleared her throat, ending the silence. “Perchance did you speak with your uncle?” she questioned curiously.

“Aye,” James answered with a smile. “’Tis most satisfying to finally make my uncle’s acquaintance. I only regret that I must return to my own land so soon after the hospitable welcome I received in this fair kingdom.”

She hung her head, visibly heartbroken. “When shall you depart our province?”

“I bid Sleepyside adieu hence one final assemblage with my uncle,” James told her. “Thereafter, I must journey to Albany immediately.”

“You only arrived last afternoon,” Beatrix commented, disappointment evident in her voice. “Why the hasty departure?”

“As you know, there have been rumors lurking about Sleepyside regarding a rebellion. I fear my uncle’s reign is in danger. Whereupon garnering much information in town today, I suspect my stepfather, Lord Kobus Jones of Albany, seeks to overthrow Uncle James’ rule. I must do all I can to hinder Kobus’ scheming before he marshals an army with the intent to vanquish Sleepyside.”

She placed her small hand upon his strong arm. “I am sorry, my lord. ‘Tis must be disparaging to learn the usurper was one you considered to be a friend and ally.”

James looked mournfully to the heavens. “Aye, it brings me much sorrow that everything I perceived of my stepfather has proven to be a falsehood. Forthwith, all that remains is lies and deceit. I was a fool to trust him!”

“His plan was not of your making,” Beatrix soothed gently. “My lord, you can hold your head aloft, content in the knowledge that you foiled their plans of rebellion.”

“Nay, I have yet to hinder Kobus’ scheme. I have been entrusted with the honor of safeguarding Sleepyside, and I shall not fail. One man’s treachery shall in no wise threaten this fair land.”

“If you return to your stepfather, he shall expect you to be in league with him,” she commented.

“I shall never partake of his warmongering!” James cried.

“Aye, and once he becomes aware of that fact, your life shall be forfeit.”

“So be it,” he declared, his green eyes flickering in challenge. “I shall not lie to you. My position is quite precarious, particularly when I vow allegiance to my uncle. I wot not of what my stepfather shall do after I confront him.”

Tears pooled in Beatrix’s eyes as she tenderly grasped James’ shoulder. “Perchance, could you send messengers in your stead?”

He shook his head. “’Tis my utmost duty as the enduring member of the House of Frayne to attend to these matters. A coward shall have no place in my forefathers’ lineage. In the fullness of time, if I am to join my forebears with honor, I must defend the throne of Rochester, as well as the throne of Sleepyside.”

Beatrix smiled in admiration. “You are a most noble man, James the Second of Rochester.”

“And you are the loveliest sight to ever greet mine eyes, Beatrix Belden of Sleepyside. No matter what evil befalls me, my life has been enriched by making your acquaintance, m’lady.”

Yet again, her cheeks flushed a becoming vermillion shade. “Surely, you do flatter me, my lord.”

“I only speak the truth,” James declared earnestly. “You will find no guile in my speech. Heretofore, I had perceived the greatest beauty to be found in nature. However, your comeliness shames the most radiant sights known to mankind.

“The blue of your eyes makes the sky weep for envy. The yellow of your hair snatches glory from the setting sun. The softness of your skin rivals the feathery texture of the clouds, whence falls the rain.”

“I entreat you to forsake dissembling words,” she whispered, her voice choking with emotion. “My heart shall not be able to withstand the grief, whereupon I learn that your flatteries are feigned.”

“Upon my honor, fair Beatrix, each compliment I bestow is from the very depths of my heart,” he vowed, tenderly taking her hand in his. “I have journeyed hither and thither; howbeit, in all my travels, never before have I met someone who affects me the way you do.”

Unbidden tears cascaded down her cheeks. “Your words shall be forever locked in my heart, my lord. Whatsoever betides, I shall treasure your tender remarks henceforth.”

James smiled and, ever-so-gently, touched her chin with the tips of his fingers. “Wherefore do you cry, fair damsel?” he questioned, lifting her face upward. He looked affectionately into her blue eyes.

“I am fearful that I shall never see you again,” she admitted quietly.

“And does that thought grieve you?”

“Greatly,” she answered timidly.

James reached out and clasped her small hand in his larger one. “Do you care for me, Beatrix?”

The blush returned to her cheeks. “’Tis not proper for a lady to reveal her heart foolishly.”

“There is nothing foolish about love,” he whispered huskily. He placed a trembling hand upon her shoulder to draw her close. However, as he leaned nearer to her, he unwittingly pressed against the bulge in her apron’s pocket.

“RIBBIT!” Rubertus croaked, no longer able to withstand being crushed against James’ muscled form. In an attempt to find a more comfortable spot, the small frog hopped out of his sister’s pocket and onto the ground below.

Beatrix hastily clambered about, attempting to retrieve her brother. “Rubertus! Come here, forthwith!” Dutifully, the wee creature leaped onto his sister’s lap.

“Is that a… a frog?” James questioned, his mouth gaping open in surprise.

“Aye. ‘Tis my brother… my brother’s frog,” she stammered nervously.

“Methinks I heard you call him Rubertus,” he told her incredulously, still shocked by the incident.

“I… I did,” Beatrix stuttered.

“Uncle James said your youngest kinsman was named Rubertus.”

“He is,” she affirmed, anxiously wringing her hands. “My brother is named Rubertus, and the frog is named Rubertus. It saves us much time when we call them in for the evening repast.”

A slight smile twitched at the corners of James’ mouth. “You eat your evening meal with an amphibian?”

She hesitantly returned his smile. “Aye, as strange as it sounds, Mother is quite fond of the creature. She insists he be treated as one of the family.”

James held out his hand. “May I hold Rubertus?”

Beatrix hesitated momentarily, but then handed the frog to him. “I do not know why we allow such a vile creature to inhabit our humble home. Perhaps, ‘tis time he finds a new dwelling.” She looked pointedly at her brother, who happily sat atop James’ hand.

“Ribbit!” Rubertus croaked.

James laughed heartily. “It appears this frog is privy to your plans for him. Methinks this is no ordinary amphibian.”

“You have no idea,” she tittered, casting a withering glance in the direction of her youngest sibling.

“Perhaps you should kiss him, thus transforming him into a prince,” James teased, a charming lopsided grin upon his face.

Beatrix sighed wearily. “Alas, there is no hope for this frog. A frog he is, and a frog he shall remain.”

He chuckled and returned the wee creature to Beatrix, who therewith promptly returned him to her pocket. Rubertus unsuccessfully attempted to poke his head wherefrom; however, she forced him into his hiding spot once more. She smiled sweetly at James, all the while holding her hand against the opening of the pocket, as to avoid any further escapes.

The young man laughed heartily. “I say, Beatrix, in all my vast travels, hitherto never have I met a maiden such as you.”

Her cheeks flushed once again, much to her dismay. A single tear trickled down her cheek. “I am afraid I am lacking in feminine propriety. My mother berates my harum-scarum tomfoolery betimes.”

He tenderly wiped away her tear with his hand. “My dear, Beatrix, I find your ‘harum-scarum tomfoolery’ quite bewitching. You are the most enchanting maiden I have ever had the privilege of meeting.”

She smiled slightly and her china blue eyes brightened. “Do you jest, Lord James?”

“Nay, I jest not,” he answered earnestly, as he gazed at Beatrix with obvious adoration. “Love is much too serious a matter to be taken lightly.”

Unable to hide her pleasure at his comment, her cheeks blazed a brilliant shade of scarlet. James, sensing her unease, gently took her hand in his left one. With his right hand, he reached into the pocket of his breeches, and retrieved a gleaming object from therein.

“Fair Beatrix, before I depart the land of Sleepyside, it would bring me great joy to present you with a token of my deepest affection,” he declared solemnly. He withdrew his hand from hers, and laid a dainty silver bracelet in his left palm.

“This bracelet belonged to my mother,” he explained, a wistful expression upon his face. “I carry it with me always, as a remembrance of the profound love I had for her. My father gave her this piece of jewelry before their betrothal.”

He paused momentarily, in solemn reverence of his dearly departed parents. Finally, he gazed beseechingly into her eyes, and continued his speech. “Though I am not worthy of your devotion, my heart dares to dream. Lovely Beatrix, would you permit me the honor of accepting this bracelet I proffer, knowing that upon my return to Sleepyside, you will be waiting for me?”

“Dear James, I would prefer your company over all the gold and silver trinkets of the world,” she answered.

“Of a surety, I would much rather remain here,” he agreed. “However, I have a duty to my courageous ancestors to safeguard our throne. I wist not what fate awaits me upon my return to Albany; howbeit, I do know it would ease my passing, knowing that I was loved by you. Do you accept this gift, and all that it entails?”

Beatrix tore her eyes away from James’, and studied the beautiful ornament, which he held in the palm of his hand. “I am not worthy of such a gift,” she gasped tearfully.

He tenderly stroked her cheek. “Nay, you are worthy of much more.”

She looked up once again, locking eyes with the man before her. “Though my mind insists I should refuse, I cannot conquer my heart. I accept this token of your affection, Lord James.”

He clasped the dainty bracelet upon her slender wrist. Beatrix reverently ran her fingers over the delicate filigree markings. Though the script was aged, the engraved name, FRAYNE, stood out boldly upon the face of the bracelet.

“It has your family’s name upon it,” she murmured, realizing how precious this piece of jewelry must be to the House of Frayne.

“Yes, you know what this means, do you not?” James inquired with a contented smile.

“Tell me,” Beatrix urged breathlessly.

“It means that you shall have a special hold upon my heart. I am your willing prisoner, m’lady. Upon my return, I shall seek permission from your father to take your hand in marriage.” He eagerly leaned forward until her tempting mouth met his own.

To James the Second, nothing had ever tasted sweeter than the lips of this fair maiden. As he opened his mouth and gently stroked her tongue with his own, he reveled in the utter bliss he found in her kiss. No confectionary delicacy could compare to the nectar of her lips.

The chiming of the church bells in the distance interrupted their kiss. “The nones chimes! ‘Tis three o’clock!” Beatrix exclaimed, rising to her feet. “My eldest kinsman, Bryan, shall arrive home from the apothecary’s shop at any moment. I must leave!”

He grasped her hand and drew her near. “If any calamities arise while I am away, please call upon my uncle. He shall assist in any way.”

She nodded. “Likewise, if you find yourself in a precarious situation, and need assistance, do not hesitate to alert my brethren. I know they shall answer your call.”

James tenderly drew her hand to his lips. “’Til we meet again, your lovely visage shall be engraved upon my very soul. I give you my honorable vow that my love for you shall not wax cold. Adieu, fair Beatrix.”

“Godspeed, James of Rochester.”

James smiled and gently kissed her cheek. “I shall return, my love.” With a final blush, Beatrix turned homeward and hastened to the cottage nestled amongst the crabapple trees.

Chapter Ten

James fondly watched Beatrix trot down the path leading to her home, then mounted Jupiter. He quickly rode to Ten Acres, gaining access through the gatetower immediately this time. After leaving his horse with Brom, he hastened to the Great Hall to speak with his uncle.

Upon entering the hall, he spied the royal seneschal, Master Lyttle, sitting upon the seat of prominence by his uncle’s throne. James purposely ignored the steward and hastened toward the entrance of his uncle’s private chambers.

However, before he could enter the room, Master Lyttle scurried betwixt James and the door. His feeble form attempted a menacing stance in front of the entrance. “I forbid you admittance into your uncle’s chamber,” he replied disdainfully. “Lord James’ afternoon repose must not be interrupted. He is quite ill and needs his rest.”

“Hence, I make haste to withdraw from the borders of Sleepyside,” James insisted, his green eyes blazing. “I wish to bid my uncle adieu before I depart.”

“I can convey a farewell salutation to Lord James, if you wish,” Master Lyttle sniffed. “If you prefer to keep your message secret, perchance, I could summon a scribe to pen down your missive.”

“No, thank you,” James answered abruptly, his voice rising slightly. “I shall deliver my farewell message in person.”

Master Lyttle’s cheeks burned with rage. “If you do not obey my order to leave post haste, I shall call the royal guard to escort you out of the castle--- by force, if necessary.”

James leaned down and glared at the steward in an intimidating manner. “Are you threatening me, Master Lyttle? If you are so foolish as to try, I can assure you that I will not be frightened.”

Master Lyttle raised a shaking finger and pointed it at James. “You are not ruler of Sleepyside, yet, little man.”

At that moment, the door leading to Lord James’ private chambers flew open. The old man popped his head out of the entryway and shook his fist. “What is the meaning of this commotion?” he blustered.

“I beg your pardon, my liege,” Master Lyttle told him, bowing low in obeisance. “I attempted to dissuade your young nephew from disturbing your slumber; however, he insisted upon speaking with you.”

“And why did you prevent James from entering my quarters?” Lord James questioned, his green eyes blazing.

“You are ill, my lord,” Master Lyttle conciliated. “Based upon my extreme concern for your well-being, I choose to prohibit him from interrupting your much needed rest.”

Lord James shook his fists in fury. “You ignorant little man, how am I supposed to sleep while your infernal arguing echoes outside my door?”

“If the lad had only obeyed my command to depart quietly, it would not have been necessary for me to become belligerent,” Master Lyttle explained, in a futile attempt to placate the older gentleman.

Lord James placed a weary hand upon the doorframe to steady himself. “Master Lyttle, did my nephew wish to converse with me?”

“Aye, my lord, but…”

“Master Lyttle, did you prohibit my nephew from entering my solarium?” Lord James interrupted curtly.

“I endeavored to do that, my liege,” Master Lyttle explained, “however, young James was quite persistent...”

“You fool!” Lord James spat contemptuously. “Never hinder my nephew from entering my quarters!”

“My lord---.”

“Be gone with you,” Lord James solemnly ordered. “I shall deal with your insubordination in due time. Thitherto, be gone from my presence.”

Master Lyttle’s chin trembled as he searched for mercy in Lord James’ eyes. Finding no forbearance, he cowered to his seat, after casting a final loathsome glance in the younger man’s direction.

Thereupon, James hastened to his uncle’s side. “Permit me to assist you, Uncle,” he insisted, placing a strong arm around the elderly gentleman’s waist and leading him back to his quarters.

Once inside the solarium, James led his uncle to a heavy oak chair, whereupon laid gaily-colored cushions. After Lord James was seated, his nephew sat on the large chest across from him.

“Do you need anything, Uncle?” James questioned, his ginger brow lowered in concern.

“I am fine,” the elderly man gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Tell me, my son, what information did you glean from your visit to town this afternoon?”

James sighed deeply and ran a hand through his thick hair. “I fear our suspicions regarding my stepfather were correct. I intend to leave for Albany at once and speak with him. I shall do as we discussed earlier and report that Sleepyside enjoys safety and peace, and remains loyal to you.”

“Very good, lad,” Lord James said, placing his wrinkled hand upon his nephew’s arm. “Assure Kobus of Sleepyside’s impregnability, and as soon as you deem safe, make haste to secure Rochester.”

“As you wish,” James nodded.

“Perchance, did you make the acquaintance of the Belden family?” his uncle questioned, struggling to stifle his smile.

“Of course,” the young man answered. “I found them to be of the utmost integrity. Most loyal citizens, indeed.”

“Yes, yes,” James the First murmured, thoughtfully stroking his whiskers. “Very noble family, indeed. Nephew, perchance did you happen upon the lovely Beatrix whilst you toured my fair kingdom?”

Lord James was rewarded with an embarrassed, lopsided grin upon his nephew’s face.

“Aye,” he answered, a merry sparkle in his emerald eyes. “I met Beatrix in the woodland, which lies betwixt our properties. I gave her Mother’s bracelet, Uncle. The silver bracelet with the Frayne surname engraved thereupon.”

James the First leaned closer to his nephew and gazed upon him with interest. “The bracelet Wynthrop bestowed to Katryne before their betrothal?”

“Yes,” James the Second answered, his voice unwavering. “Upon my return to Sleepyside, I shall ask Master Pieter for permission to marry the fair Beatrix.” He looked expectantly at his uncle; howbeit, he grew apprehensive at the elderly gentleman’s silence. “Uncle, does that please you?”

Hitherto, Lord James sat silently. Finally, he withdrew a handkerchief of the finest linen from the pocket therein his robes, wherewithal to wipe several misty tears from his eyes. When he had composed himself, he gazed tenderly into his nephew’s eyes.

“Nothing could please me more, my son, than for you to wed the one whom you adore. May you cherish the beautiful Beatrix all the days of your existence; loving her with the same fervent love therewith your father loved your mother, and I loved my precious Neeltje.”

James gently grasped his uncle’s hand. “Do you have any further instructions for me?”

“My lad, lend an old man a strong arm, whereby to aid me going hitherto my desk. ‘Tis rather cumbersome for the elderly to pen a decree, with nothing to write thereupon.” He feebly took James’ proffered arm, and with the younger man’s assistance, limped to the seat at his desk.

Once seated, he found a parchment from the drawer therein the desk. Grasping the quill which laid thereon, he dipped it in the inkhorn. With a deliberate hand, he penned a lengthy missive. Upon its completion, he carefully folded the parchment thrice, and picked up his royal seal.

James the First held the candle, which sat upon the hindmost corner of the desk, over the parchment, therewithal allowing drops of hot wax to fall thereon. He withdrew his large signet ring, which served as his royal seal. He pressed the carved matrix against the parchment; thus applying his official design in the warm sealing wax. This act served a dual purpose. It kept the document closed until it was safely in the hands of its recipient, and furthermore assured the recipient of the letter’s authenticity.

With a trembling hand, he offered the letter to his nephew. “Give this to Master Brom, my son. I have instructed him to accompany you to Albany.”

James nodded and took the letter from his uncle. “As you wish, Uncle.”

With a frail hand, James the First reached thither and clasped his nephew’s arm, pulling him close. “Hearken to my words. Beware, lad. The walls have ears,” he whispered. “Do not tell a soul of your plans. Betimes, our most fearsome adversaries lurk about unnoticed upon our very doorstep.”

“I shall heed your advice, Uncle James.”

“In my letter, I have admonished Master Brom to keep his mission confidential. Once you have given him this missive, make no niceties, and depart to the stables. Linger whence in secret ‘til eventide. Brom shall meet you thence, thus leading you to a secret exit, known to few. ‘Tis big enough for you to pass through on horseback.”

“I shall do as you request,” James promised.

Lord James peered out the western window of the solarium. “Dusk shall be upon us shortly. Make haste, my son, and do my bidding. I shall be praying the Lord will grant you safety and courage.”

After assisting the elderly gentleman to his bed, James the Second carefully tucked his warm fur-skins about him. Upon completing that task, he leaned over and kissed the old man’s wrinkled brow. “Farewell, Uncle. May the angels watch over you and keep you well, so that I may share joyful tiding with you upon my return.”

Lord James placed his feeble hand upon his nephew’s cheek. “My days are numbered, my son. If perchance I depart to my forebears before your return, I have considered it an honor to call you my nephew and my ally. From heaven’s portals, our ancestors gaze upon you with pride. Your honor and dignity will be renowned in the House of Frayne.”

Tears filled young James’ eyes. “I pray that I shall prove worthy of such lavish praise, Uncle. It is my utmost desire to please you.”

The old man smiled affectionately, as he peered into the face of the last hope of their line. “You have already pleased me greatly, my son. If you were out of my own loins, I could not love you more. Wynthrop produced an heir who surpassed all my expectations. I love you, young James.”

Lord James, weary from the emotional turmoil, closed his eyes and fell into a heavy slumber.

“And I love you, Uncle,” James murmured, tears falling from his eyes and onto James the First’s hand. Reluctantly, he pulled away and tiptoed to the door of the solarium. With a final glance in his uncle’s direction, he quietly opened the door. Setting his jaw in determination, he vowed to safeguard the throne of Sleepyside.

Moments afore…

The cloaked figure retreated to the dank chamber where he practiced his enchantments. Once confined in his private retreat, he hoped to behold James of Rochester in his crystal ball. ‘Twas of the utmost importance that he knew the heir’s plans.

Once safely secluded in his chamber, he hovered a trembling hand above the magical orb and muttered an evil incantation. He quivered in anticipation, desperate for a glimpse of his quarry. He waited with bated breath as the sphere slowly illuminated the gloomy cell, its eerie green glow casting ominous shadows upon the limestone walls. An evil cackle echoed through the crypt as James’ likeness finally appeared inside the crystal ball.

The cloaked man gazed deeply into the magical globe. He beheld as the heir knelt by the bedside of the aged lord of Sleepyside. The villain hearkened closely; howbeit, no sound emitted from the orb. Filled with wroth, he recited an additional spell, and impatiently waited for the voices of his prey to be sent forth from the mystical orb.

Much to his vexation, instead of enabling him to listen to their discourse, the enchantment made the image inside the glass sphere grow hazy. James’ face became sorely obscured, ‘til it faded completely from the crystal ball’s center.

Rage consumed his heart as the cloaked man shook his fists at the orb. His angst-ridden cry echoed through the murky nook as he cursed his own foolishness. He had sought guidance from the crystal ball the day before, thereby learning that several of his evil plans had to be altered. In his frustration, he had overturned the table whereupon the orb had rested, thus damaging the magical device.

He had no choice. Of a necessity, he must travel to the lair of one whose powers exceeded his own.

Straightway, the cloaked man exited his privy niche with a flourish, his long cape flowing behind him. He angrily strode through the castle, searching for someone to aide him in his quest. At long last, he found the liveryman.

“You there!” he growled.

The frightened stableman turned around and bowed in reverence to the cloaked man. This authority figure’s reputation preceded him. He was a man who was to be feared and obeyed. “Are you in need of my service?”

“I make haste for the mountains on the morrow. Ready one of the castle livery’s finest steeds and prepare the amenities I shall have need of on my sojourn, and I shall overlook your foolish disregard of my title.”

“A thousand apologi---”

“Silence!” the wicked man commanded. “Perchance if you satisfactorily heed my wishes, your life shall be spared. Forthwith, depart my sight, lest my mercy cease.”

The affrighted man scurried hence, desperate to flee from the wrath of the cloaked man.

The villain smirked as he beheld the clambering of the liveryman. Invoking such fear into the hearts of his servants pleased him greatly. Once the old man and his nephew were murdered, his power and authority would increase. However, in order to plot their demise, he had need of his crystal ball. He wrung his hands nervously and pondered his situation.

He needed a release from his anxiety. A smile parted his thin lips as he pondered the most pleasurable way to rid his mind of worrisome thoughts.

She would not be expecting him for many hours; however, she never objected to his impromptu visits.

He hastened to her chambers. Taking heed that no eavesdroppers lingered about the hall, he glanced around carefully to ensure he was not being watched. Certain he was alone, he pushed the door open and swiftly entered.

She had been seated at her dressing table, brushing her long hair. Upon recovering from the fright of her quarters being suddenly invaded, her astonishment was replaced by pleasure. “You are full of surprises, my love,” she murmured in a throaty voice. “I did not expect a clandestine liaison with you ‘til the witching hour.”

“I could not wait,” he explained, raking his eyes over her generous curves, which were barely covered by the lightweight fabric of her chemise undergarment.

She stood from her dressing table and walked seductively thitherto him. Stroking his jaw with the tips of her fingers, she whispered, “I assume you entered my quarters without drawing attention to yourself? Though I have been yearning for you, your presence in my bedchamber would be a most difficult thing to explain, paramour.”

With deft fingers, he slid the strap of her white, ruffled chemise past her shoulders. “I am no fool,” he admonished lightly, nuzzling her neck. “Albeit ‘tis burdensome, we must keep up this pretense. At all costs, our ardent desire for one another must not be revealed. The rest of the court must believe we merely tolerate one another’s presence.”

Craving to see more of her, he pushed down the remaining strap of her undergarment. He ran his bony fingers along the velvety softness of her exposed skin, his breathing becoming labored as lust consumed him.

“Of course, I grow weary of restraining myself in your presence,” he whispered huskily. “I find your feigned aloofness toward me quite fetching. Moreover, I perceive it gives you great satisfaction teasing me with tantalizing glimpses of your skin, sweet wench. Oft I yearn to forsake propriety and ravish you upon the table of the Great Hall.”

She moaned in pleasure as his lips followed the path previously traveled by his fingers. “You are insatiable, darling. When shall we be free to declare our passion for one another?” she gasped, releasing the clasp of his black cloak and tossing it upon her bed.

“I wist not, my pet,” he murmured, allowing her chemise to slide to the floor. “An obstacle has emerged that I must deal with immediately. I make haste for the mountains at dawn’s first light. I know not whence I shall return. We must take our fill of love tonight, lest we are separated for a season and unable to indulge ourselves.”

“Do not leave me, my liege,” she pleaded, as she tried to remove the robe he wore. “Permit me to accompany you on your journey.”

“And what shall we do if your presence is required by the court?” he inquired, impatiently assisting her in the removal of his royal garments. “My absence alone will not be questioned. Albeit, if both of us take leave, devious minds will wonder if perhaps we are involved in a secret dalliance.”

“Tell the court that our hunger for one another cannot be abated,” she suggested, her lips framed in a sultry pout. “They shall not begrudge a powerful man his diversions.”

“If I allow you to accompany me on my journey to the mountains, what shall I tell her upon our arrival? She is not aware of our feelings for one another. It may displease her if I bring an unannounced guest to her mountain lair.”

“I care not.” She sank to ground beneath them, pulling her lover down beside her. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, as passion overwhelmed them both.

Breathlessly, she pulled away and gazed deeply into his eyes. “Darling, am I a mere dalliance to you? Do you plan to estrange yourself from me once you have overthrown Sleepyside and no longer require my assistance?”

“My dear, you fret unnecessarily. My thirst for you shall never be quenched,” he replied evasively, caressing the slope of her back. He clenched his teeth in frustration as she ignored his advances.

“Do not tease, wagtail,” he admonished. “You know I prefer caresses o’er conversation.”

However, she would not be appeased. Pushing hence his groping hands, she looked into his eyes and asked, “Whereupon you assume the throne of Sleepyside, will you plight your troth, my love?”

He feigned shock at her question, then smiled at her earnestly. “Of course, pet. The instant I become ruler of Sleepyside, I pledge that we shall be wed. I shall be Lord of Sleepyside, and you shall be my Lady. Therewithal, never again shall we be forced to hide our desire for one another.”

Beguiled by his charming speech, she raised her chin, proffering her lips to him. He lowered his head and hungrily placed his mouth upon hers. Quite willingly under his spell, she wrapped her arms around his stooped shoulders and drew him nigh.

Continue to Part Six…

Author’s notes:

Thank you very much to my grand editors, KathyW and Kaye, who are graciously indulging in my obsession with the Middle Ages. Thank you, ladies for dealing with ganderobes, seneschals, and kirtles. I love you both! Big hugs!

Haberden was a common salted fish in the Middle Ages. And no, I didn’t spell it incorrectly.

In case you didn’t know, in medieval times, a ganderobe was the potty. No wonder Rubertus was so horrified! ICK!!!

‘Vert’ is green in heraldry. And of course, no fabric could compare to the vert hue of James’ eyes. *wink*

Now for your Middle Ages clothing lesson:

The linen shift worn by James was a shirt common in those times. Morse were elaborate buckles often garnished with precious stones that attached the cape. A hauberk is a military corselet (sort of like a breastplate), which can be crafted out of mail or leather. The particular one worn by James is crafted out of leather. And of course, the breeches were his pants, and were commonly spelled breches.

Once again, I have tipped my hat to the brilliant CathyP, giving James his trademark lopsided grin. No matter what era he’s in, James shall always have that smile…

And you knew I had to fit THE bracelet scene in here someplace. It took a lot of research to see if they actually had the type of bracelet I described in this story at this time, and thankfully they did. I know in the books, it didn’t belong to Katie, but in this universe, I thought that would be a nice touch, especially since jewelry was often bequeathed to loved ones.

We shall learn more of Katie and Win’s medieval courtship in the next chapter…

And you also had to know that James would be giving his trademark fond glances… Can’t have too many of those! *g*

And seals in the Middle Ages is an interesting subject to study. I read about them until my eyes crossed. I hope I described it all in an interesting and easy to understand manner.

The cloaked figure scene was a request from the lovely Kaye, who missed our ominous figure in the first draft. I had been thinking the same thing, and when she pointed it out, I typed some of the thoughts I’d been having about this man. Are you confused yet? You shall learn that our villain is a complex creature…

And a chemise is one of the many undergarments ladies wore under their dresses. I guess it would be the one at the bottom of all the layers.

So, now we have mention of two mysterious ladies. Who are they? And who in their right mind would want to be… uhh… friendly with our villain? Well, you’ll have to keep reading! *VEG* And thank you, Kaye, for being so surprised that I could actually write that type of scene. *g* I’m not sure if that was a compliment or not, but thank you for saying it was good. I was worried about how it would be accepted.

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