Read Online Kathryn Kramer by Midsummer Night's Desire - Free Book Online
Authors: Midsummer Night's Desire
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informed him had been worn in the performances of Richard III, he felt more at ease and less recognizable. Hopefully, he would not suffer that ill-fated king's doom.
"I don't suppose Alandra minds either, do you daughter?" Murray nudged his daughter good-naturedly. "She's so used to putting up with all of us older men that a fine looking younger gent in the group will be most stimulating. Isn't that so, Alandra?"
Alandra didn't answer, she was too perturbed for words. This Christopher Nicholas, or whatever his name was, was far too sure of himself already without her comments adding to his self-confidence. No doubt he expected her to hurl herself into his arms at the very first opportunity. Certainly, the bold way he was looking at her told her so. Had any woman ever told this bold swain no? She doubted it. Was it any wonder then that he was so cocksure?
Furthermore, although she had strongly advised against it, though she had told her father of her suspicions regarding this interloper, Murray had insisted on keeping his word and letting the "actor" ride along with them. Usually Murray listened to her intuition, but he had shrugged off her apprehensions about this newcomer. God hope he would not come to regret it.
Looking at him beneath her thick lashes , she assessed the nobleman. Why was he lying? What had he done to make himself a fugitive? He had been so anxious to change his garments that that in itself had heightened her suspicions. But just how dangerous was he?
"I don't think your daughter is certain that she likes me , but I'll win her over," she heard him say.
Alandra quickly looked away when she realized he had caught her staring. Oh , he was comely all right as well he knew and no doubt thought that the reason for her intent gaze. Worse yet, he had a definite charm about him that made it difficult for a woman to keep her wits about her. Rogue that he was, he seemed the answer to a maiden's prayers, the perfect choice for a lover. But while she might have been interested in him before, she firmly convinced herself that she had no designs on him now and warned herself to be on guard against his using his charm on her.
The narrow cobbled streets were lit by lanterns set on posts , and Alandra busied herself with counting them as the play wagon passed. It helped to take her mind from the handsome stranger sitting so perilously close to her. From time to time she could sense his eyes on her but in haughty stubbornness she refused to glance his direction.
London was a city of loud noises, even in the dark hours of the morning. The sound of horses' hooves, coach and wagon wheels clattering against the cobblestones, the loud voices of rosy-cheeked milkmaids and sellers of newly gathered cresses, shattered the illusion the soft glow of the lanterns cast upon the roadway. Surrounded by a medieval wall, London was a jumbled, cluttered city as the early morning light would soon reveal. Gabled houses were crammed together, furtive alleyways teamed with crime, yet it was the place that Alandra and her father called home. The site where Alandra had grown from a child to a woman.
With the exception of the yearly players' tours, Alandra had rarely been outside the stone walls. The world of the theatre had nourished her , and she had been well content, yet as Alandra had put her childhood years behind her she longed to see more of the world. Observing the brightly bedecked nobles and ladies at Whitehall had caused her to be all the more anxious to be out of her cocoon. The world was hers, waiting to be conquered. Was it therefore surprising that she was filled with expectation now? There was a sense of freedom when the players were on the road that Alandra did not feel in the city. Freedom, romance and adventure seemed to beckon her like a bright new toy.
"We're about to undertake the most extended tour we've ever made," Murray blurted, feeling
"I don't suppose Alandra minds either, do you daughter?" Murray nudged his daughter good-naturedly. "She's so used to putting up with all of us older men that a fine looking younger gent in the group will be most stimulating. Isn't that so, Alandra?"
Alandra didn't answer, she was too perturbed for words. This Christopher Nicholas, or whatever his name was, was far too sure of himself already without her comments adding to his self-confidence. No doubt he expected her to hurl herself into his arms at the very first opportunity. Certainly, the bold way he was looking at her told her so. Had any woman ever told this bold swain no? She doubted it. Was it any wonder then that he was so cocksure?
Furthermore, although she had strongly advised against it, though she had told her father of her suspicions regarding this interloper, Murray had insisted on keeping his word and letting the "actor" ride along with them. Usually Murray listened to her intuition, but he had shrugged off her apprehensions about this newcomer. God hope he would not come to regret it.
Looking at him beneath her thick lashes , she assessed the nobleman. Why was he lying? What had he done to make himself a fugitive? He had been so anxious to change his garments that that in itself had heightened her suspicions. But just how dangerous was he?
"I don't think your daughter is certain that she likes me , but I'll win her over," she heard him say.
Alandra quickly looked away when she realized he had caught her staring. Oh , he was comely all right as well he knew and no doubt thought that the reason for her intent gaze. Worse yet, he had a definite charm about him that made it difficult for a woman to keep her wits about her. Rogue that he was, he seemed the answer to a maiden's prayers, the perfect choice for a lover. But while she might have been interested in him before, she firmly convinced herself that she had no designs on him now and warned herself to be on guard against his using his charm on her.
The narrow cobbled streets were lit by lanterns set on posts , and Alandra busied herself with counting them as the play wagon passed. It helped to take her mind from the handsome stranger sitting so perilously close to her. From time to time she could sense his eyes on her but in haughty stubbornness she refused to glance his direction.
London was a city of loud noises, even in the dark hours of the morning. The sound of horses' hooves, coach and wagon wheels clattering against the cobblestones, the loud voices of rosy-cheeked milkmaids and sellers of newly gathered cresses, shattered the illusion the soft glow of the lanterns cast upon the roadway. Surrounded by a medieval wall, London was a jumbled, cluttered city as the early morning light would soon reveal. Gabled houses were crammed together, furtive alleyways teamed with crime, yet it was the place that Alandra and her father called home. The site where Alandra had grown from a child to a woman.
With the exception of the yearly players' tours, Alandra had rarely been outside the stone walls. The world of the theatre had nourished her , and she had been well content, yet as Alandra had put her childhood years behind her she longed to see more of the world. Observing the brightly bedecked nobles and ladies at Whitehall had caused her to be all the more anxious to be out of her cocoon. The world was hers, waiting to be conquered. Was it therefore surprising that she was filled with expectation now? There was a sense of freedom when the players were on the road that Alandra did not feel in the city. Freedom, romance and adventure seemed to beckon her like a bright new toy.
"We're about to undertake the most extended tour we've ever made," Murray blurted, feeling
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