Page 25 of Lord of Misrule

Kit needed to learn to ignore these feelings. Men in her life had only brought her despair in the past. Kit didn’t want that and she certainly didn’t need this one. Tolin Blake was not someone whom she would ever choose to purposely have in her life. Nay, it was a silly mistake to think so in the first place, and she wouldn’t be so careless again.

“If you must know, I am here to give you this.” He held out his closed fist. At first she thought he was giving her back her hair ribbon, but then she realized he still held that in his other hand. She slowly reached up and her opened her hand. His fingers brushed against hers as he dropped something into her palm. All she could feel was a surge of excitement wash through her when his skin touched hers.

Why did she feel this way? Nay, she didn’t want to think about it. Quickly, she pulled her hand back, looking at a dried bean that he’d placed in her palm.

“What is this?” she asked.

“A bean,” he answered.

“Yes, I can see that. But why are you giving it to me?”

“It is to be used tonight.”

“In the mincemeat pies?”

“Nay. I’ve decided we’ll have cake instead.”

“What?” She didn’t like him changing his mind so often. “Cake, my lord?”

“Yes. You will put that bean into the cake for tonight’s meal.”

Her thoughts went back to the servants at the joust who were talking about the Bean King.

“It’s for a game. Right?”

“Yes, it is. Whoever finds the bean in their cake will be the Bean King or Queen. Or as I prefer to call them, the Lord or Lady of Misrule. Their reign will last until Twelfth Night.”

“So then, anyone can find this bean and earn the title?” she asked, staring at the bean in her hand. Already a thousand thoughts swarmed her head. This could be the answer to all her prayers.

“Aye, that’s right.”

“And this Lord or Lady of Misrule can make anyone, even nobles, do whatever they want? Even if the one who finds the bean is naught but a servant or a commoner?” Her eyes slowly lifted to his face.

“Yes, the game is for servants and commoners,” he said slowly, studying her intensely. “That’s the way it works. Why do you ask?”

He started to sound suspicious and she needed him to trust her. She had a plan that was going to bring wealth and success to her family, but she didn’t want him to know it. Luck was finally on her side, and Lord Tolin Blake had just put the answer to all her problems right in the palm of her hand.

“No reason. I just wanted to understand the game, that’s all.” She smiled and curtseyed again. “Good day, my lord. And good luck to the next Lord...or Lady of Misrule.”

“Damn it!” cursed Tolin several hours later, after having been on the losing team of the Christmas football game. The nobles had taken on the villagers in a game that involved kicking around a pigskin bladder filled with air. It was a rough game with many injuries, but he didn’t care. He’d needed to get out his frustrations somehow.

Kit wasn’t falling for him like most women did. This only made him want the wench even more. Breathing hard, he stopped at a horse trough filled with water. Since it was winter the water was cold and nearly frozen. He splashed it on his face, liking the sting of the bite. It made him feel alive.

He looked down and pulled the hair ribbon from where he’d tied it to his belt. Mayhap it really was bad luck after all. About to throw it down, he felt the soft silk under his fingers and that only made him think of Kit’s soft skin and her enticing lips. He dipped the ribbon in the water to cleanse it.

“My lord, did we really just lose to the villagers?” Jarvis came up beside him, rinsing his face with the cold water as well. “Aaaaaah, that’s cold. Brrrr.”

“We would have won if Tolin hadn’t been such a bad aim,” said Raven, walking up with Rook. She brushed the dirt off her gown.

“Aye,” said Rook. “Tolin, what is the matter with you lately? You couldn’t even seem to kick the ball straight today. You’re usually our best player.”

“Don’t forget, he lost the joust yesterday, too,” Jarvis so diligently pointed out. “Mayhap he’s cursed or something to be losing so much lately.”

“Aye, that must be what it is,” said Tolin, looking at the wet hair ribbon in his hand.

“Or mayhap his mind is on something...or someone else.” Raven smiled and nodded to the ribbon. Tolin quickly shoved it into his pouch.

“Oh, do you mean the baker woman he kissed under the mistletoe?” asked Jarvis.