Page 7 of Christmas Secrets

Lord Percival continued. “I suppose you’ll be disappointed to know that the secret group dissolved after the death of the old woman and when the rest of the followers either got killed off or married.”

“Killed off?” she asked, not liking the sound of this.

“Or, at least that is what I’ve heard.” He chuckled. “After all, it was a group of women, so I guess you never know for sure what really happened. They were said to have been chosen for the group because they were strong.” He perused her up and down, making her feel a little uncomfortable. “You seem like a strong woman, so I understand now why you tried to attack me.”

“I wasn’t attacking you, I was defending my brother,” she corrected him. Holly was tiny and far from strong. Therefore, he must mean strong in other ways besides being physical. She wanted to know more about this secret group of strong women he spoke of, but decided now wouldn’t be a good time to ask. He almost seemed to respect her now because he thought she was someone who she obviously wasn’t. Therefore, she’d let him think what he wanted, and hopefully it would keep her and her brother safe after all.

“What are you doing here, Sir Percival?” she asked him. “This is not a close walk from the castle, and we are in the midst of a blizzard.”

“Oh, no need to call me Sir,” he told her. “I am... I am not a knight.”

“You’re not?” Her eyes went back to his sword. “Then are you perhaps a castle guard?”

“Nay. Nay, I’m not.”

“Please, don’t tell me you’re a mercenary?” She made it over to her little brother, pulling him to her in a protective hug as he stood next to her atop the bed.

* * *

When Percival sawthe look of disgust and horror on the girl’s face when she asked if he was a mercenary, he found himself tongue-tied and unable to speak. When he told Bedivere earlier he was going off to be a mercenary, the idea hadn’t seemed so bad. As a matter of fact, it had felt freeing and adventurous, not to mention it wasn’t bad pay. But now, after seeing Holly’s expression, he felt horrible. The girl seemed to fear him. He’d thought to be feared was a good thing. If so, why didn’t this feel good at all? He would never tell her that it was exactly what he’d planned to do. Percival’s stomach twisted into a knot. Was this how Bedivere felt when Percival had called him an assassin? But that was different, he reminded himself. His brother really had been an assassin. Percival had only flirted with the idea of becoming a mercenary.

“I’m a... a noble,” he told her, choosing his words carefully. After all, it would do no good to scare a woman and child. He wanted them to feel comfortable around him, not frightened. Yes, he decided he would do whatever it took to make them relax. “I’ve completed my training to become a knight, but just haven’t been knighted yet and taken my vows.”

“I see.” The girl blinked her long lashes, staring at him, making him feel like some kind of liar.

But it wasn’t a lie. It was exactly what really happened. Of course, he didn’t offer the information that he’d turned down the chance to be knighted for reasons that she’d never understand.

“Please, don’t make us leave here,” begged the girl.

“You want to stay? Here in this broken-down cottage, away from everyone?” He splayed out his arms to include the surroundings.

“The truth is, we have nowhere else to go.”

“Why not? Where are you from? Are you a titled lady perhaps, traveling in disguise for some reason?” He found himself curious about the girl, wanting to know more.

“Nay. I am not a noble, my lord,” she said, using his title, even if she didn’t realize it was only a courtesy title, and he held no lands.

“The daughter of a merchant, perhaps?”

“Nay. I... our mother just died. My brother and I were coming to stay with my grandmother—the only relative we had left. Well, besides my aunt, but I saw her gravestone out in the garden as well.”

“I’m sorry,” said Percival, really meaning it. “So, you lived in a town then? Won’t the lord of the castle who rules over the town take care of you now?”

Her eyes darted over to her brother and she pulled him closer, running a hand over his hair. “My brother is tired and hungry. It is getting dark and I need to unpack our things and tend to the horse yet.”

“Of course. I understand,” said Percival.

“If you’d be kind enough to leave now, I have a lot to do.”

His head jerked upward. “Leave?” She was dismissing him, a noble, when she was naught but a commoner? He didn’t like that in the least. Instead of going out the door, he picked up the chair she’d thrown at him and sat down on it, propping his feet up on the table next to his sword. “I’m not going anywhere,” he told her. “Indeed, I’ll be staying here at the cottage until after Twelfth Night.”

“Twelfth Night? That long?” Her eyes opened wide. “Nay. Nay, that isn’t possible.” She took her brother by the hand and hurried over to stoke the dying fire. “We will be living here now, so you’ll just have to go back to the castle or find somewhere else to stay.”

The flames had eagerly eaten up what little wood was on the hearth. She kneeled down, blowing on the dying embers trying to bring it back to life.

“I’m really cold, Holly,” said the boy, wrapping his arms around himself. His teeth chattered.

“Do you have food?” asked Percival, watching her try to fan the fire, but to no avail.