Read Online A Sterkarm Kiss by Susan Price - Free Book Online Page B

long, deep breaths, and remained outwardly calm. Toorkild, she thought, looked remarkably spruce: His beard and long hair must have been trimmed for the occasion. He was all decked out in blue, with a blue sash slung over one shoulder to support the sword he wore. Isobel, beside him, was small, plump, and pretty in russet, all her hair tucked away beneath an embroidered and beaded cap. They were gaping up at the inflatable, making no attempt to hide their astonishment and admiration.
    And behind them, there was Per! She gasped, and felt pure happiness surging up inside her. Her memory of him had been spoiled by her last sight of him, before his uncle had dragged him back through the Tube to his own world. Then his face had been bruised and swollen. Now it was, again, as she’d first known him: unmarked, young, and very handsome.
    He wore a bright-red baseball cap, with the word “Texan” printed across the front of it in white letters—a word which, even if he had been able to read it, would have meant nothing whatsoever to him. His jacket was black, of soft suede with a fur collar and a 21st-century zipper; and with it he wore a pair of dark-blue denim jeans. Over them were pulled his thigh-high riding boots. Andrea was disconcerted. In her favorite memories of him, she always saw him in 16th-century clothes—but then he smiled. Her arms and legs twitched as her muscles wanted to run to him. She calmed herself.
    Now they were near. Andrea took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Master Toorkild Sterkarm! You be well come! Be so kind, take this gift from us! Mistress Isobel Sterkarm! We be gladdened to see you here! Take this small gift and, be so good, forgive its meanness!”
    Isobel and Toorkild, startled to be greeted by name by a woman they had never seen before, looked quickly at each other, as if they feared her knowledge of them might be due to Elf-Work. But they thanked her and accepted the goodie bags before moving on, farther into the tent, toward Windsor. Andrea took no more notice of them. Per was in front of her. She couldn’t say anything in greeting, but simply stared at him.
    Per was surprised, and then amused, by her wide-eyed stare. Maybe it wasn’t only a Grannam woman who’d be glad to get a Sterkarm man! But the pause was becoming awkward. To break it, he took the brightly shining little bag from her hand without its being offered and said, “I be gladdened to see you, Mistress!”
    She started, and said, “Well come! Well come!”
    He winked at her, by way of letting her know that he’d be looking for her later, and moved on. A few paces away, among wreaths and garlands of flowers, Elf-Windsor was standing with his man beside him—the little Elf who turned Windsor’s Elf-Words into English and the other way about.
    â€œIt be a good day!” Per said, holding out both his hands to Windsor, who had shown him many favors and given him many gifts. “Well come to my wedding and a thousand thanks shall you have!”
    Andrea’s head jerked round. She stood still, holding out a little gift bag but unable to give it to the Sterkarm who waited for it. Per’s wedding? Per’s wedding? She ought to have seen it. It was amazing enough that Lord Brackenhill should wed his daughter to a Sterkarm at all: He certainly wouldn’t throw her away on a lesser one. Per was going to be married to that beautiful Grannam girl.
    She felt a gentle tug at the bag in her hand and remembered her job. “Well come! Well come!” she said, and smiled as tears filled her eyes.
    Per turned to Gareth. “My good man! Well come to you too! And”—Per glanced over his shoulder at the Elf-May—“a thousand thanks for decking hall with such bonny flowers.”
    Windsor, not catching the last of this, inclined his head toward Gareth, who hesitated, though he well understood what Per meant by bonny flowers. “He says a