A Knight in Central Park(22)
Regardless of his many shortcomings, Sir Joe had some desirable qualities, too. He always smelled nice, like fresh air after a good long rain. And he had been fairly helpful upon occasion when it came to showing her how to clean or how to use one of his many modern contraptions. And he was kindhearted, going to all the bother of capturing a small eight-legged creature and setting it free, instead of squishing it beneath the heel of his boot.
Alexandra pushed flyaway strands of hair from her face. Continuing her perusal of Sir Joe, she found herself questioning whether he looked more scholarly than knightly. He definitely possessed a warrior’s physique and a noble face: chiseled cheekbones, firm lips. She did not want to think about those lips. She had yet to passionately kiss a man, but the yearning to kiss Sir Joe had struck her at the oddest times. For instance when she had left a muddied trail across the wood floor. His face had lit up with a fiery intensity. Not in anger, but in utter frustration. He had looked childish, rambling on about trudging mud into the house, until she could think of nothing but the idea of silencing him with a kiss. Again the desire to kiss him had struck her when her mouth had been filled with toothpaste and he had insisted on instructing her on the art of cleaning teeth. With his body pressed hard against her and his intentions clearly noble, he had been difficult to resist. But the moment she most wanted to kiss him was when he’d read to her after breaking their fast. Together they had shared opinions and ideas between sips of steaming tea. And after a moment’s pause, he had read to her from the morning paper, one story after another. She had hung on every word, each building upon the other, adding to the story and bringing them closer in the process.
And when she had stopped him to question him on a word’s meaning, he had simply explained and then continued on. Aye, that was the moment she had envisioned him holding her tight and kissing the very breath from her.
Sir Joe came toward her now, breaking her from her thoughts. “Time to go,” he said. “The moon isn’t going to get any fuller.”
“Come be thee blithe and merry at the Faire,” a young woman dressed in medieval costume called out, gesturing for Alexandra and Joe to come forth.
A large portion of Central Park had been transformed into a maze of crowded artisan stalls. Hundreds of costumed players entertained visitors who browsed the make-believe village for unique handmade goods and one-of-a-kind treasures.
“Eat, drink, and be merry, for food purveyors are on hand within these gates,” a young man added. “Hello, Professor McFarland,” he called out. “Louise! Get the professor something appropriate to wear. ’Twould seem he forgot his costume.”
The young man was Tom Hicks, one of Joe’s students from last semester. Joe told them not to bother, but Louise was back before he could decline, fitting him with a black cloak and a small hat trimmed with an ostrich plume.
Next, Tom pinned a soft-hooded cap with a mid-length veil to Alexandra’s head. “Wonderful,” Alexandra said excitedly.
Joe smiled at her enthusiasm, lifting the crook of his arm for her to take hold of.
Within the gates the role-playing adventure was in full force. Men were dressed in cotton hose with pleated coats of wool and embroidered doublets. Many women wore conical headdresses with long lacey veils and elaborate dresses worn mostly by the wealthier classes in the late fifteenth century.
Alexandra laughed when one of the town criers grabbed her hand and fell on bended knee, begging for her hand in marriage. Joe abruptly stole her hand back, informing the young man that she was already accounted for before dragging her off.
“If I had to guess,” she teased, “I would say you were jealous.”
Joe noticed an intense interest in her eyes and quickly dropped her hand.
“’Tis something I said?”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea...about me, about us.”
Her snort caught him off guard. “You have naught to worry about, Sir Joe, for you hold no appeal for me. You have the manners of a-of an eel,” she finished bluntly.
He smiled.
“’Twas not a compliment.”
“No, I didn’t think it was. I’ve been called a lot of things in my lifetime, but never once have I been compared to an eel. You have certainly put me in my place.”
She looked annoyed. Joe had to fight the urge to lean down and kiss her, but only to prove he’d caught her in another lie since her obvious awareness of him was plain to see. But then again, kissing her would only lead her on.