A Knight in Central Park(39)
“Do you have to leave us again?” Susan asked, cutting into her thoughts. “The Tibbs force us to do all of their chores whilst most of the young women in the village do nothing but flutter their eyes at every man who passes through Brookshire.
Alexandra took the sheepskin cloak Susan held and tied it to the saddlebag on her mount. “As always, you exaggerate.”
Susan frowned. “What of Rebecca? As soon as you leave, she’ll more than likely give me that sad look of hers, all the while following me around like a second shadow. And Garrett,” she added desperately, “what am I to do about him and his never-ending pranks? I beseech you, dear sister, to reconsider. I am much too young to care for the likes of them.”
Alexandra gazed upon her younger sister for a moment. Susan never failed to remind her of her father. She had the same golden hair and blue eyes. Alexandra and Mary were the unfortunate ones to have been born with eyes the color of dull moss and hair the same shade as pomegranate seeds. But as life reminded her every so often...life was not always fair.
“Susan,” she said. “I have no wish to leave you, but I must. Mary is counting on us.”
“Mayhap Garrett and I should come with you.”
“Who would take care of Rebecca? Besides, I promised mother I would always look out for you. I shan’t break that promise by allowing you to be put in harm’s way.”
Susan was quiet for a bit, but not for nearly long enough. “Are you going to marry him?”
It took her a moment to realize Susan spoke of Sir Joe. Alexandra stopped packing. “Of course not. How many times must I tell you I have no interest in men, especially overly coddled, spoiled men like Sir Joe.”
“But I saw the way you watched him last night, the way your eyes light up when he is about.”
“You speak foolishness,” Alexandra said. “He has no plans to stay any longer than he must.”
“Grandfather assured me your journey would end in marriage, just as any good fairytale would end,” Susan said, her voice brimming with excitement. “And Lydia Tibbs insists that every woman needs a man eventually.”
Alexandra snorted. “Rubbish. I, for one, need not a man in my life to be content.”
“Then why,” Susan said, “did I so often hear you pray to God, asking Him to keep you from a life of loneliness, and thus aid you in finding a good strong man?”
Alexandra snorted. “I was desperate. I needed help in the fields. Besides, that was a long time ago.” Before father left, and she became weighed down with responsibility. Before Jonathan Wheaton kissed her, pleading with her to give her heart to him before running off to marry another soon after. It was before Alexandra realized the knightly heroes of Grandfather’s stories were only figments of his imagination. Men like that did not exist in the real world.
“Do not fret,” Susan said. “I, too, have prayed to God, asking that He send me a strong warrior who shares my appetite for love and life. A man who—”
Alexandra clamped a hand over Susan’s mouth. “Hush, you are too young to speak of such things.”
“I am ten and six.”
“I beg of you,” Alexandra said. “Do not speak of such things until you know of that which you speak.”
“I am not a small child.” Susan’s eyes widened suddenly. “Look, here he comes now.” Susan stood on tiptoe so as to get a better view over Alexandra’s shoulder. “He is quite a prize, but I would guess your man to be unhappy about something. Mayhap you can cheer him with one of your stories.”
“He is not my man,” Alexandra said, exasperated. Even so, she turned to look. “And even if he were, I would not whittle away the hours pondering ways to make him content.”
Alexandra’s face heated at the sight of him. Until now, she had failed to notice the snugness of his clothes. She had been certain Lydia’s husband, Ari, was of the same proportions. But her eyesight was surely failing for the leather breeches were unyielding upon Sir Joe’s form, revealing a lean and narrowed waist and muscled thighs that threatened to break the seams. Even the tunic was taut against his chest. His sleeves were rolled upward and the sight of his broad form dressed in such a way made her heart beat a little faster.
Alexandra forced a smile. Nudging Susan’s arm, she said, “Fetch my satchel, would you?”
Reluctantly, Susan headed off.
“’Tis good to see that Grandfather finally set you free,” Alexandra said to Sir Joe, doing her best to appear unaffected by his presence. “I was afraid he would ramble on for most of the day, telling you things you had no care to hear.”