Best to keep the moment light-hearted. “Whatelse can you share with me?”
“The people in my village were shopkeepers,farmers or fishermen, there was a miller, and blacksmith, much likemany other villages in coastal areas of England. “Of course.Growing up in a small community there wasn’t much forentertainment.”
“There must have been some going’s on. Mytenant’s homes were always a din of activity,” Nicholas said.
She fiddled with a vase, focusing on abouquet of bright yellow hibiscus. He was swimming in a sea of awe.Men drowned in seas like that.
“Well…there was the butcher who cheatedpeople by selling inferior meat and keeping his thumb on thescales.”
“Why do I have the impression there wasretribution?”
She moved her castle. “I painted red dots onthe butcher’s chickens and told him they had the pox.”
Nicholas laughed and moved his bishop,taking her pawn, thoroughly enjoying himself. In retaliation, shetook his knight.
“Excellent,” he said.
“Are you complimenting my move or myretribution?”
“So, you believe in mischiefs?”
“You mean as a…concept?”
“No. Entirely in practice.”
“You want the short answer or the longone?”
She made another move and he frowned. “Youmay not want to make that move. It will free me to take yourking.”
She shrugged. “You said this was a learningventure, did you not? Let’s see where it goes.”
“Suit yourself. The game will end early andI’ll require a plate of bananas, papaya and bread on my hammock assoon as the sun rises.”
“The subject is mischief, is it not?” Shecontinued her story, keeping a little pantomime with her hands. “Todazzle the village children, I drilled a hole in an apple and put abeetle in it. I would wave my hands over the apple, divining mygreat power. The beetle moved the apple, lending credence to mypotent magic.” She kept a straight face and then broke out in sheermerriment.
“Then there were the cantankeroussisters.”
There was nothing more contagious than herlaughter. It didn’t even have to matter what they were laughingabout. “Cantankerous?”
“Well, that wasn’t their name. There realname was Cornett like a horn blower and both none too bright. Imentioned them before.”
“When you compared my behavior to anine-year old,” he said drily.
She giggled at his offense. “Miss Hortense,had hairs in her ears, curling wondrously out like a bush. Shenever had a nice word to say about anyone. And then there was hersister, Miss Gertrude, her face, like a drought-ridden earth, lacedwith a million yawning cracks and equally unpleasant. Both sisterswere blessed with an active career as gossipmongers.”
The pleasant fragrance of wood smoke driftedin the cottage from the beehive oven. Nicholas leaned back in hischair, watching her, enjoying his domestic surroundings. He caughther staring at his lips. She colored and looked away. His wholebeing was filled with wanting. It would be so easy.
“Samuel called them the village dragons.Molly warned me away, saying a ‘a goat’s business is not thesheep’s concern.’”
Alexandra clapped her hands on the table andleaned toward him, her face alive and animated. “Miss Gertrudetried to take you into her confidence, but beware, she had a tonguelike a rapier. In truth, both ladies were such grand practitionersof their craft that you could furnish them with some solid tales,and in no time, the gossip spread like fire through a haymow,reaching everyone in the community.”
He liked how she made funny voices,mimicking the village shrews, a natural storyteller. “I’m sure youprovided them with plenty of fodder.”
She rose while he made his move, groped forthe tinderbox on the upper shelf. “I told the Cornett sisters’ thegrocer had a special on pigeon’s milk and to drink it would restoretheir youth and vigor. Can you imagine the look on the grocer’sface when they asked him for pigeon’s milk?”
Alexandra scraped flint against steel.Click. Click. Click. The spark took hold on the candle wick,producing a solid flame. The shadows retreated to the corners ofthe room, lapping there like a diminishing tide. She dropped thetinderbox and made another move that was against his earlierinstruction. She’d never learn the game at this rate. She was soenthused talking about the villagers that she didn’t realize howdistracted she had become. He didn’t have the heart to tell her shewould lose. “So, the Cornett sisters were the recipients of yourdeeds?”
“One time I told them a prince from aforeign country was coming to the village. He was going to marryone of the village girls, but I couldn’t say who.”
