She looked at him in horror. “Now you are angry with me.”
“Nay, I am not, but no more talk of wives.”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to be forward.”
He shook his head, taking the cup out of her grip and setting it on the table. Then, he took her hand and began pulling her towards the dancing, something he would not have ordinarily done had he not been feeling his drink.
“Come,” he said in a voice that could very easily be interpreted as seductive. “I wish to dance.”
But Christin dug her heels in. “But there are many other young women who would love to dance with you.”
“I do not want to dance with them.”
“But I cannot dance!”
“All young women can dance.”
“Please,” she begged. “Truly, I would look like a clod out there. I have never been able to dance. I will only shame myself and you.”
He wasn’t listening to her, smiling as he pulled her into a group that had already started to dance. “Hush,” he said quietly. “Look into my eyes; that’s right. Look right at me. Do what I say and you shall dance beautifully.”
Christin was terrified. Drunk and terrified, but thank God for the drink or else she wouldn’t have been able to go through with it. She wanted to dance with him because she simply wanted to be near him. All of the resistance and inhibitions she had been feeling towards him now had an outlet and she gladly let them through. She let him put her palm up against his and pull her rather close.
“Now,” he said softly. “Take a few steps back and then a few steps towards me again. That’s right; well done, Cissy.”
Cissy. She’d never heard her name sound so sweet. Coming from him, it sounded like the voice of angels. At that moment, Christin let everything go so she could experience something she never really had – dancing with, and being close to, someone she was attracted to. That had never happened before. Alexander had her dancing next to him, turning her around at the appropriate time to spin, then pulling her right back against him in beat with the music.
All the while, she began to giggle uncontrollably.
Once, she spun around and tipped over, falling into the woman next to her, who also laughed. Fortunately, they were all laughing, and Christin went back to Alexander, who put his arm around her waist and basically walked her through every step. She held on to him, fearful she was going to tip again, until she finally came to an unsteady halt and put her hands to her head.
“I am not usually so giddy or so clumsy,” she said. “That terrible ale has made me drunk.”
Alexander looked at her, amused. “It has,” he said. “It has made everyone else drunk, too, including me. Whatever that drink was, it is was very strong.”
“And terrible.”
“And terrible.”
“Can we dance some more, then? I fear being drunk is the only way I am brave enough to do it.”
Alexander immediately put his arm around her waist again, turning her in beat with the music. At one point in the dance, the women broke off and went to the center of the dance area, looping arms and moving in a circle. Alexander had to walk Christin right up to the women so she could loop her arms, but the moment the circle started to move, she lost her balance and they ended up dragging her. Laughing hysterically, she simply lay in the dirt, staring up at the sky, as the circle moved around her.
“What’s wrong with my sister?”
Alexander turned to see Peter standing next to him, a knuckle of beef in his hand, as he peered curiously at Christin laying in the dirt. Alexander pointed at her.
“She’s drunk,” he said. “She drank that bitter ale too fast and now she cannot keep her balance.”
Once Peter realized what was going on, he started to laugh. “Good,” he said flatly. “It is good to see her loosen up. Honestly, she’s so serious all of the time. Jesus, Sherry, she’s killing men as if she were born to do it. What maiden does that? She needs to get drunk and have some fun.”
With that, Peter took a big bite from his beef knuckle and wandered off, leaving Alexander standing there, watching Christin as she tried to get up. But she couldn’t seem to sit up, so she rolled into her belly and rocked onto her hands and knees. By that time, he pushed through the circle of women and lifted her up underneath her arms.
“Come along, my lady,” he said. “Let’s go find a place for you to sit down. Or lay down. Whichever you prefer.”
Christin was still giggling as she tried to walk but she wasn’t doing a very good job, so Alexander swept her up into his arms and carried her away from the dancing.
“Where are we going?” she asked, arms around his neck. “Truly, I am fine. I can walk.”
She probably could, but Alexander thought she felt quite good in his arms so he didn’t want to put her down.
“You must not drink very much, very often,” he said.
They walked past the food table and Christin ended up hanging over his shoulder, watching the food longingly as Alexander walked further and further away.
“I am very careful with what I drink,” she said. “Usually, it’s watered down or boiled. But I was thirsty.”
“I know,” he said. “I saw.”
She pointed to the food table as they moved away from it. “I want more of those eggs, please. Can we go back?”
Alexander saw a stone bench beneath a yew tree that was next to a small church. There were people around, but no one sitting on the bench, so he deposited her onto the cold stone surface.
“Sit,” he commanded softly.
“But can I have more eggs?”
He put up his hands. “I will get you more eggs. You remain here. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
He held a finger out to her, silently commanding her to remain where she was, as he headed back to the food table to collect more stuffed eggs. By the time he returned, both hands full of eggs, she was simply sitting there, staring off into space.
“Here are your eggs, my lady,” he said. “Eat them in good health.”
She looked at him before looking at the eggs. Taking one, she simply stared at it for a moment.
“May I ask you a question?” she said.
“Aye.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Alexander wasn’t nearly as tipsy as she was, but tipsy enough to loosen his tongue. He sat down next to her, closer than he should have simply because he wanted to. He’d just spent the past several minutes watching a thoroughly charming and exceedingly beautiful young woman have the time of her life.
He was enchanted.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Can’t a man be nice to you without you asking him foolish questions?”
Christin looked at him in surprise. “I do not think so,” she said seriously. “I think that I must know everything because no man has ever been truly nice to me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Because of my father,” she clarified. “He terrifies everyone and no man is brave enough to be nice to me. You heard Bric. He said that he might offer for me if he was certain my father would not grind him into mincemeat. That is very true, you know. My father chases all of my suitors away. Well, if I had any. No one will come near me.”