Page 49 of Lord of Misrule

“Pardon me?” he asked.

“The fruit for plum pudding needs to be soaked in brandy overnight. The pudding itself needs to be steamed for at least eight hours. This isn’t a dish, my lord, that can be produced at the snap of your fingers. Not even if the Lord of Misrule desires it.”

“Oh, well then we’ll have it whenever it is done, I suppose. In the meantime we’ll have mincemeat pies, since I’ve yet to get one.”

“Only because you keep changing your mind,” Kit mumbled under her breath.

“Was there something that you’d like to make for Christmastide?” he asked her. “One of your favorite baked goods, perhaps?”

Kit’s arms slowly fell to her side. She thought about it for a minute. “Well, Parker’s favorite is my gingerbread. Would that be to your liking, my lord?”

“Very much so,” he told her. “And from now on, through Twelfth Night, you will be the one to decide what you will bake and serve for dessert.”

“All right, then,” she said, releasing a deep breath and nodding. “I will get to work at once.” Everyone started to leave, but Tolin summoned Kit back to him.

“Kit,” he called out.

She sent her son inside with Brenna and walked back to him. “Yes, my lord?”

“Later tonight, after the festivities are finished for the day, I’d like to see you in my solar.”

“My lord? I don’t understand. You want me to bring food to you tonight in your solar?”

“Nay, not food. However, wine would be good. I want to talk with you. Privately. Just the two of us.”

She looked up at him in a suspicious manner. “Is this a command from the Lord of Misrule then?”

Sadness filled his being. “Nay, Kit, it is not.” He reached out and gently laid his hand on her shoulder. “However, it is a request...from me. As Tolin. It is not, however, an order.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m confused as to what this is all about.”

“I want to spend time with you. And I hope you want to be with me, too.”

Kit’s body stiffened and then it started shaking the way it always did when she was around him. She had told him it only happened when she was around a man she liked a lot.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head. “White wine or red, my lord?” was all she said, once again asking a question rather than to answer directly. This woman named Kit Baker was more mysterious than anyone Tolin had ever met.