The Reckless Oath We Made(50)

I doubted it usually took that much effort to get her out of her clothes. She hadn’t even gotten redressed. She was walking through the woods wearing nothing but a wet linen chemise, carrying her cotehardie and surcoat over her arm.

“If you’d waited for me, I could have helped you,” I said. “I hope you didn’t damage the fabric.”

“Nay, as thou sayest, ’twas easily undone. Ne cloth rent ne blood shed,” Gentry said. The moon was bright enough that I could see his hair was dry. He hadn’t gone in for a swim with Zee.

“Sir Gentry, would you be so kind as to walk me up so I’m not bathing alone?” I said.

He hesitated, which was a first. He had always offered his help freely when I asked for it.

“If it giveth thee no trouble, Lady Zhorzha?” he said.

“Oh, I don’t want to keep Lady Zhorzha standing out here with her wet hair,” I said. “She can take my lantern to find her way.”

“I think I know which way the tent is.” She turned and pointed. “That way, and then up the path where the 1871 fence post is, right?”

“Yea, my lady. True as an arrow.”

“Here, my lady.” I held out my flashlight and she looped it over her wrist.

“Just so you know, Rosalinda, he’s a lousy lifeguard. He didn’t keep an eye on me at all.” Zee laughed as she went down the path, singing “Roxanne” like a drunk tavern wench.





CHAPTER 24





Zee



Rosalinda could disapprove all she wanted, but I felt better after I got high, and I laughed so much my face hurt. After I took my bath, I hiked back to the tent singing to myself, which I almost never did. I’d used the chemise as my towel, so I hung it up to dry. In the summer, it was probably scorching hot in the tent, but right then, it felt good to lie there naked.

When I heard footsteps out by the fire ring, I yanked my nightgown on and said, “Are you coming to tell me a story?”

“Sure, I can tell you a story. What do you want to hear? ‘Goldilocks and the Three Medieval Bears’?” Rhys, not Gentry. I smoothed out my nightgown, before he opened the flap on the tent and looked in at me.

“I thought you were Gentry,” I said.

“I thought you were Gentry.”

“Rosalinda didn’t want to swim by herself, so he’s waiting on her.”

“I guess she’s not done flirting with him after all.” Rhys obviously wanted me to ask about that, so I kept my mouth shut. “Is it okay if I wait for him?”

“Knock yourself out,” I said.

“Cool.” He started to step into the tent, so I shook my head at him.

“You can wait out there. I’m going to sleep.”

Once he pulled the tent flap closed, I turned off the light to keep him from bothering me. I must have drifted off, because I woke up to Gentry laughing and saying, “Thou art a knave.” To Rhys? I guessed not, because nobody answered before Gentry said, “The lady sleepeth and hath not said I might wake her. Nay. My greatest wish is that thou stint thy clappe.”

“Gentry,” I called.

“My lady.”

I turned the lantern on and got up to look outside. He was squatted next to the fire ring arranging a pile of logs.

“Are you coming to tell me the story about the lady whose husband spied on her taking a bath?” I said. He came over to the tent, but when I stepped back to let him in, he hesitated. I held up my hands and made little scratchy movements. “I’ll scratch your back for you.”

Gentry ducked and stepped inside. Then we were standing in the tent together, me looking at him and him looking at my bare feet. His hands hung down at his sides, but relaxed like he didn’t know what to do with them. Now that I’d seen him fight, I wondered if when he clenched his hand up, he imagined he was gripping a sword. Something familiar to do with his hands.

“If you were someone else, I would kiss you now,” I said.

“I am naught but myself.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I meant, I would kiss you, except I know you didn’t like it the last time I tried it.”

“Nay, my lady. Thy kiss was no outrage upon me. ’Twas only that I knew not what thou . . .” That was all the words he got out.

He kept his head down, so I couldn’t see his face, but he clenched his right hand around his invisible sword. Was that anger? Or nervousness? Or something else?

“Is it okay if I kiss you now?” I said. I knew flirting with him was stupid, but I was still high, and I didn’t want to be alone. Plus I liked watching him fight, and that he laughed so hard at his own jokes.

“Where?” he said, which gave me the giggles.

“I thought I’d start with your lips. And then maybe your jaw, next to your ear. And then a little bit lower, on your neck.” I’d never been asked before where I was going to kiss somebody, so I thought it was better to be really specific. I waited for follow-up questions, but he nodded and raised his head enough that he was looking at my lips.

I leaned in, still feeling giggly, and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Since he didn’t seem to mind that, I centered the next one. Then, like I’d told him I would, I kissed his jaw, right where it met his ear. A little bit below that was apparently the sweet spot, because when I kissed him there, he made this sound—I swear, the sexiest sound I ever heard a man make—this involuntary groan that I don’t think he even knew he could make.