Read Online Fatal Fairies (Renaissance Faire Mystery Book 8) by Joyce Lavene, Jim Lavene - Free Book Online Page B

anticipated.
    “I guess you get your wish,” Chase said. “Come on. Get up here.”
    He put his hand down and pulled me on the back of his horse. We rode past his station, and I picked up his sword. I knew how important it was, made just for him.
    After that, we got off the field and past the grandstand. The red and green bunting looked bedraggled in the rain. I could feel Isabelle’s eyes boring holes in me. I hoped she’d only continue being threatening without any physical complications until this was over. She had a nasty slap and sharp nails. Kind of like fighting a pretty cat.
    We got off the horse in the stable as four or five other knights and jousters were leaving in disgust. Squires ran to take care of their wet animals. I knew Chase would expect the same of me—happily, no doubt, since I’d interrupted the joust.
    “Be sure there’s fresh hay for him,” he instructed. “And get back to the dressing room right away. I thought you knew what you were doing out there. Squires don’t interrupt jousts.”
    I was about to attempt some kind of explanation. He saved me from my whirling thoughts that made absolutely no sense. “Jessie, your feet are bleeding. I told you to find some shoes.”
     “There isn’t exactly a shoe store in your dressing room,” I tartly reminded him. So that was why my feet hurt so much. “I can’t wear your boots. I know my feet probably look big enough, but they aren’t.”
    “Whatever,” he growled. “Here, boy!” He called to a young knave sheltering in the barn from the storm. “Dry my horse and I’ll give you ten dollars.”
    “ Huzzah !” the young man yelled and took the horse’s reins.
    I didn’t know why Chase was giving the boy my job. Did that mean he was done with me? I couldn’t believe I’d messed up my advantage being his squire because of Sir Reginald. I’d never even liked him. He was always so pompous and self-important. 
    “Let’s get back to the dressing room.”
    “Chase, I—”
    He bent slightly and lifted me in his arms like he’d always done, as though I weighed nothing.
    “You can’t walk until we take care of your feet,” he said. “Just be quiet and hang on while I gallantly resist dropping you in the horse trough. What was up with you out there anyway?”
    Isabelle was standing in front of us. “You know, Chase, I think the squire is supposed to care for the knight.”
     

Chapter Eight
     
    “She’s hurt.” Chase turned me so she could see my dirty, bleeding feet.
    “I don’t care if she has a sword in her chest.” She glared at me. “She can walk. Put her down.”
    “Isabelle, there’s nothing going on between us.” Chase smiled at her. “I’d do the same if she was a boy squire.”
    “Well she’s not. People are talking. You know how I hate that.” She pouted prettily. “Let someone else take care of her, please.”
    “I’ve already got her. I’m taking her back to my dressing room. You can come with us to chaperone if you like. Nothing is going to happen. Don’t worry so much.”
    She glared at both of us and gritted her teeth, snapping at her attendants as a dozen parasols went up to protect her from the rain.
    Chase glanced at me and sighed. “She’ll be okay. You know how she is.”
    I did know how she was, and I knew this wouldn’t be the end of it. But for the moment, I was in his arms, and I meant to take full advantage of the situation. I slid my arms around his neck and pressed close to him.
    “Uh, Jessie, you’re not getting the wrong idea, are you?” he asked as he walked toward the dressing room in the drizzle.
    “No. I just don’t want you to drop me. I’m not exactly a lightweight.”
    “You’re not a heavyweight either.” He grinned. “Can you open the door?”
    I opened the door with a sweet smile. He plunked me down in a chair.
    “Don’t move. Let me get my first aid kit. I can’t believe you were out there with your feet like this.”
    “I’m your squire.” I made