Morning at the palace was delightfully busy; servants scurrying about, opening windows and letting in gorgeous bursts of the morning sunshine and the scent of the garden's magnolias and roses mingled with gentle sea breeze; seamstresses coming in to measure the Barrett sisters; the kitchen staff busy in preparing the delicious smelling breakfast; tradesmen being escorted into the palace carrying in the finest fabrics for the Queen to choose amongst for the girls' wardrobes. Everything was so vivid and alive!
And Brenda was thrilled by it all. Somehow she had expected nothing but a solemn, regal air, much pomp, and plenty of circumstance. She had expected dead, respectful silence in the palace for some reason. All of this flurry of activity and the merry noise, chatter, and laughter was a pleasant surprise. Another thing Brenda found surprising was how cheerful all of the servants were. She had imagined they would be silent and morose, cowering in fear of making any mistakes and being punished for ineptitude.
As she sat on the elegant chaise lounge in the room of Princess Georgina, Brenda gazed about at all of the lovely things the room held. Mini chandelier-style lights, the most beautiful canopied bed Brenda had ever seen, paintings of the Princess, chronicling her growth from infant to young adult, staggeringly beautiful crystal figurines of castles and birds and ballerinas. One could easily live in this room and never have any need or desire to leave it.
As Princess Georgina went though her ridiculously large closet, looking for a riding habit for Brenda, Brenda sat by the window seat, gazing out at the grounds. Whereas Brenda's room faced the back of the palace, Georgina's room faced the front, so Brenda could see four of the Knights of the Realm as they patrolled the front of the palace, all looking splendid in the gold-and-black uniforms. Seeing them made her think of Michael and wonder where he was? He had said that he might be able to see her here at the palace since he was a Knight and had occasional access to the grounds. She glanced down again at the four knights standing sentry in front of the palace. She knew he was not one of them. They were all far too tall, for one thing, and she did not think he'd ever had the privilege of guarding the actual palace before -- at least he had never mentioned such an honor to her.
"This one!" Georgina said, pulling out a lovely riding habit in a deep, rich shade of dusk-blue. Brenda thought it was the prettiest thing she had ever seen. And she would get to wear breeches, which she'd never done before. The only way women ever wore them was when they were riding, and since she had never ridden . . .
Her slender, tanned fingers stroked the material of the riding set, and it was soft and smooth to the touch. Incredibly so.
"What is this made out of?" Brenda asked curiously. "I've never felt material like this before. It's even softer than velvet!" she murmured in fascination.
Georgina smiled and there was a secret behind her bright blue eyes as she recalled how Simon had been fiddling around with spells last month and had somehow turned her velvet, riding habit into some magical-feeling material. "It is velvet," she assured Brenda. "Just a special kind of velvet. We call it …umm . . .Wizard's Velvet."
Brenda looked at her perplexed. "Wizard's Velvet? I've never heard of that one. Is it imported from one of the far away lands?"
Georgina shrugged. "A land not so far away. Will you try it on?" she asked, handing the lovely garments to Brenda.
Brenda loved the look and feel of the outfit and desperately hoped it would fit her.
"Does your brother ride well, Your Highness?" she asked as she began putting on the riding habit.
"Yes, he is masterful," Georgina said. "You could not possibly learn from a better teacher."
"I have never done this before," Brenda said. "I hope His Highness will not exhaust me."
"I should not worry too much about that, Brenda. Your well being will forever be his first concern," the Princess assured her.
Forever? What an odd way to phrase it, Brenda thought.
"Let me look for some riding boots for you!" Georgina said excitedly, as she once again began to rifle through the immense closet
Brenda finished putting on the riding outfit and was delighted to find that it was practically a perfect fit. She stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at herself in amazement. It was quite a thrill to see herself in such beautiful clothes. The breeches fit very snugly and molded her body in such a way that she thought her mother might have one of her minor fits. The riding jacket was elegant; its softness against her skin, just sinful. And she adored the buttons, which were made out of real blue pearls from the Lake of Sapphires.
"Don't forget the hat," Georgina said, gazing approvingly at the girl she knew would be her sister-in-law.
Brenda placed the soft, blue cap over her ponytail of cascading dark curls and then reached for the boots the Princess was handing her. They were beautiful, black leather, riding boots with tiny royal-gold tassels down the back.
"Fit all right?" The Princess asked.
Brenda nodded, smiling. "Do you really ride in these?" she asked, indicating the entire outfit. "It just looks far too pretty to risk getting dusty and dirty."
"Oh, that's why I have so many," Georgina said, brandishing her hands towards her closet doors. "When you were getting measured I made sure to instruct them to make five riding habits for you. So you will have one for each day of the week," she said with a devious smile. The clocks chimed throughout the palace: 9:30 a.m. "Whoops. Time for breakfast. We don't want to be late," Georgina said, taking Brenda's arm as they raced out of the room, dodging between scurrying servants as they flew towards the dining hall.
The first thing Brenda noticed was that the Prince was not present for the morning meal. The second thing she noticed was the curious and none-too-happy stares she was getting from her sisters, who were gazing at the lovely, blue riding habit she wore with suspicious eyes.
<"Where did you get that?!" Victoria gasped, whispering into Brenda's ear as soon as Brenda sat down./p>
"Oh, don't be silly, it does not belong to me. I am just borrowing it," she said, not wanting to elaborate. She did not want her sisters to learn about her riding lessons until she'd had the chance to speak with His Highness and try to convince him to give her sisters lessons, too. But now he was nowhere to be found, so she couldn't even ask him, she realized as her brown-and-gold eyes scanned the long, oval table once more.
The Queen noticed Brenda searching the table.
"Prince Jasper won't be eating with us this morning, dear," she explained and smiled as she saw Brenda flush attractively.
"Oh, I wasn't… er… looking for him exactly…" she said, avoiding the frosty gazes of her sisters.
"My brother does not reside here," Princess Georgina explained, swinging her blonde curls over her shoulder. "He lives in Windsor Castle."
"Yes, not very far from here. But he shan't make it for breakfast," The King added.
"He went to the castle last night?" Brenda asked curiously. "So late?"
"What do you know of the hours the Prince keeps, Brenda?" Miranda asked frostily.
"I only meant that I saw him," Brenda explained. "From my window, that is. He was coming from the Enchanted Forest. It was nearly two in the morning." She shivered with involuntary pleasure at the vivid memory of how he had looked, walking towards the palace. And the moment his eyes had lifted to hers and pinned her in that gaze of sensuous, magical blue . . .
"What were *you* doing awake at that hour?" Victoria asked, her voice accusatory.
"I just could not sleep," Brenda murmured, concentrating on her food so as to block out her sister's questioning looks.
The Queen, gazing at the lovely young girl who looked positively gorgeous in the riding habit, was sure that poor Brenda would have many more sleepless nights until she and Jax were passionately bonded.
"Will we see the Prince at all today, Your Majesty?" Geneva asked, a bit peeved with the mother-in-lawish way the Queen was smiling bemusedly at Brenda.
"Oh, yes, my dear. He will be here perhaps in an hour or so," she said. "Tell me, when do you twins turn eighteen?" The Queen asked.
"In one week from now," Geneva said with pretty smile.
"Oh, how grand!" Queen Jane said. "We shall throw a big party and invite all the family, so that you may all get to know all of the relations of the Jacks bloodline, of which one of you four young ladies will eventually be a beloved member."
Brenda groaned internally. A big, huge soiree at the palace for her eighteenth birthday? It was the stuff that a girl's dreams were made of, but she had intended to try and sneak away that day to spend her birthday with Michael. She had promised him she would try, but now… Well, there was no way she could politely excuse herself from a ball in her honor that the Queen herself was hosting.
"That is most kind of you, Your Majesty. Thank you!" Geneva said, bubbling over with excitement.
Veronica kicked Brenda under the table.
"Oh, yes. Thank you so much, Your Majesty," Brenda added.
Greatly enjoying having the Queen's attention, Geneva continued adressing her, flashing her pretty smile at the Queen of Fahrlane as she spoke.
"Your Majesty, it is such a perfectly beautiful day outside. Do you suppose His Highness could show us the Secret Garden?" Geneva asked. "I've heard all the stories in school about how magnificent the flowers are there."
"I'm sure that the Prince would be most happy to show you young ladies the Gardens," The Queen said. "But I'm afraid it will have to be somewhat later in the day, my dear. I believe," she said, taking a dainty bite of scone, "that my son has other plans for this morning."
Brenda gulped and stared at her omelet. She felt her sisters' eyes upon her throughout the delicious meal. Suspicious, accusing eyes. Brenda wished she could convince them all she had no interest in the man they were fighting like cats and dogs over. And then two palace attendants entered the dining hall.
"Pardon the interruption, Your Majesties," the older of the two attendants said, bowing before the King and Queen. "His Highness has asked me to escort the young lady, Brenda, to the stables for her riding lesson."
Brenda could have sunk into the floor as the Prince's *plans,* and the fact that they were with her, were made public knowledge. Undoubtedly, whatever bad thoughts her sisters were thinking about her were all somehow confirmed in their heads now. Even if she told them that she had intended to sit next to the Prince at breakfast and ask him to give them riding lessons as well, they would likely not believe her. And the Prince's absence from the morning meal had blown her opportunity to do that, at any rate. Her sisters would find that all just too convenient to be believed.
"Brenda! You're going to ride a horsy?" Kayla asked excitedly.
"Conniving witch!" Miranda hissed into Brenda's ear.
"Plotting little prince-snatcher!" Victoria hissed into the other ear, and Brenda wondered what in heaven's name had made her take a seat in between these two.
She excused herself from the table and eagerly followed the attendant out of the dining hall, anxious to escape her sisters. She was sorry they were angry and sorry that they would probably only dismiss her explanation. But she was not sorry about this riding lesson. She was excited! She fairly skipped her way out of the palace, behind the smiling attendant.
He led her to the stables, which were far out on the property and as impressive as the rest of the palace grounds. He stood in front of an open door and gestured for her to wait there. "His Highness shall be with your very shortly, m'lady," he said, and then he disappeared.
Brenda breathed in deeply and smiled as she inhaled the most delicious essences of a combination of flowers. Oh, to live here and smell this always! Not that she *wanted* to live here, of course. She wanted to live wherever Michael lived after they were married. She was not about to be seduced by the beautiful things surrounding her . . .or the beautiful people, she added, as she saw Prince Jasper emerging from the open stable door, a horse on either side of him.
As he approached her she felt her breath leave her - a phenomenon that happened a bit too often in his presence, she realized, chewing on her lip. The damned man looked . . .well, he looked mouth-watering is what he looked. The deep, burnished gold of his hair in the morning sunlight put even the Fahrlane sun to shame. She was struck once again by the way his clothes seemed to adore being on his body, as they hugged the muscular frame very flatteringly. He exuded both regal magnificence and wild sensuality. She was aware that her breaths were coming out in odd, quick, little spurts.
Jax's eyes slowly assessed her with a desire he could not hide, and wasn't bothering to try to. It reminded her very much of the way he had looked at her last night in the moonlight when he had held her transfixed in his gaze.
"You look delectable," he said, his eyes holding hers captive. When she remembered to speak, she began protesting at his complimenting her in such a manner, and so Jax quickly added, "It wasn't a compliment, just a fact." Of course, that wasn't entirely true. It was both a compliment *and* a fact. But he knew she would take any compliments from him with a heaping teaspoon of suspicion and possibly anger. That made him add one more thing: "And, of course, your sisters are equally delectable."
Brenda was stunned, truly stunned, by the unexpected sting of jealousy she felt surge through her. How ridiculous! And how outrageous! "That is a strange thing to say for one who proclaims to not want them to love him," she said. "If you find them so *delectable,* why would you not want to choose one as a wife? Don't you want a *delectable* wife?"
Jax smiled at the slight hostility he heard in her voice. "Not even a good morning?" he asked her, changing the subject with a polite finality.
Brenda, appalled that she'd forgotten her manners, and, for god-only-knew what reasons, momentarily conducted herself like a jealous paramour, quickly curtsied in front of him. "Forgive me. Good morning, Your Highness."
"Jax," he said.
She ignored the correction and said, "We missed you at breakfast."
"Who is we?" Jax asked.
"My sisters mostly."
"Oh. How disappointing. Not *you* mostly?" he asked with that wickedly attractive smile. And then he rose her hand to his lips and touched his warm lips, not to the back of her hand, but to her palm. It felt strange and not in a bad way, by any means. She could have sworn she felt the tip of his tongue flicker against her palm. It was very… provocative and, oh drat -- she was tingling again!
Brenda drew her hand away from him in a quick motion that was almost comical. Even with her hand safely by her side again, she felt the warm tingling traveling from where he had kissed her and spreading all throughout her body now.
She cleared her throat. "I'm wondering, Your Highness, if you might be kind enough to help me with something," she began, purposely clasping both hands behind her back. "You see I have a slight problem."
"What is it?" Jax asked, one hand stroking the mane of the horse on his left. Brenda could not take her eyes away from the movements of Jax's hand, as it stroked slowly down the silky mane of the beautiful horse. The horse was whinnying softly, as if it were experiencing great pleasure at his touch, Brenda realized. It must be a female horse. And then Brenda felt herself flush at her thoughts. Whatever was happening to her? She had to get a hold of herself and stop this ridiculous nonsense.
She cleared her throat again and noticed that her slight fluster seemed to make him smile. Such a sexy smile, too; those dimples, those pretty, white teeth . . .
Her eyes rose higher: those glittering, sparkling blue eyes . . . And then, in turn, his smile only increased her fluster. It was a circle of absurdity.
"It's my sisters," she said. "They are very upset with me. You see, they think… they seem to somehow have the mistaken impression that you are giving *me* all of your attentions."
Jax nodded thoughtfully. "They seem intelligent to me."
Brenda gave him a perplexed expression. "What does that mean?"
"It means they are right. I *am* giving you all of my attentions."
Brenda fidgeted, bouncing from one foot to the other. "Oh, well . . .perhaps you don't really understand me. I think they think you are giving me some kind of *preferential* treatment."
Jax just nodded. "That would be accurate."
"Oh," she said again. "Well, why are you doing that?"
Jax shrugged and looked extremely adorable. So much so that she had to shift her eyes away from him momentarily as he answered her. "Because I am a man, and I want to. Because I am the Prince, and I can," he said.
Brenda ran her fidgety hands along the sides of her legs. "Oh," she said for the third time. "Well, all right then, I must ask you to stop it at once," she decided. "Please," she added.
Jax only smiled tolerantly at her request, or order, or whatever it was. "Come with me, Brenda," he said, placing his hand on her waist and guiding her around to the side of the horse he had chosen for her. "The beach awaits us, and this day is far too beautiful for us to waste it standing here, while you ask of me things I will not do."
Brenda's eyes narrowed and she forced herself to ignore the electric thrill of his touch on her body. Her hands went to her hips, one hand inadvertently brushing over his. "Excuse me, Your Highness. Did you say things you will not . . ."
"This is Sheba," Jax said, cutting her off. He took Brenda's hand and ran it along the body of the horse. "Let her get to know you a little bit first," he said.
Brenda froze as she felt something warm and irresistible waft through her senses as Jax's fingers slid in between hers, while he guided her hand over the smooth body of the horse. She was suddenly profoundly aware of Jax standing behind her, his leg occasionally brushing against the back of hers whenever one of them moved. She felt an odd weakness she had felt in his presence before, and she didn't like it. It made her feel as if she were losing control of herself and her bearings.
"She's pretty, isn't she?" Jax said softly into her ear. He was so close that she felt his warm breath against her as he spoke, and it was like being branded by some sensuous, warm breeze. "Beautiful, really," he said.
Brenda felt her hand trembling beneath his. She could only nod her response. A lovely wave of pleasant dizziness was engulfing her. The tension she felt at the ambush invasion of these highly sensitized feelings began to ebb, and Jax felt her relaxing against him. She didn't say a word, just kept stroking Sheba, her small hand lying beneath his, his fingers, in-between hers. Her back was resting against his chest, as her body relaxed more and more. Her head rolled back against him, the tall, dark curls of her ponytail brushing against his arm.
Jax smiled the typical male smile of pride at his eliciting a desired response from the woman that he so desired. She may think she was in love the other, but the one she desired was *Jax,* and despite herself, she was inadvertently making that very clear to him. Jax could tell that Carruthers had never gotten this kind of reaction out of Brenda, because it all seemed too new to her. She was fighting the pleasure, frustrated by it, which was why her giving into it in little increments was such a sweet thing to see. He heard a pleasant sigh softly escape her lips and carefully gazed down at her to find her eyes closed. She probably had no idea how intimately reposed against him she was. But he recalled Malvodio's words about letting her do her fair share of the pursuing, and so Jax refrained from his burning desire to steal a kiss from her unsuspecting lips, and instead he broke the alluring contact.
"All right, I'll give you a boost up now," Jax said, as Brenda sharply came out of her haze, with the troubling sensation that she had done something she oughtn't to have done.
She gazed down at Jax, who was down on one knee his hands folded together, palms up, fingers interlocked, waiting for her to step up and onto the horse. "She's very gentle," he assured Brenda. "Do not be afraid."
But fear of the horse was not what was causing her hesitation. She actually had never feared horses. She loved them, which was why she'd wanted to learn how to ride one so badly. No . . . her reason for hesitating was that once again her breath was gone from her body. She was gazing down at Jax, and never-before-experienced longings were running rampant throughout her. They were scary. They were confusing. They were delicious. She did not want to climb up on Sheba, she realized. She wanted to kneel down there where the Prince was and press her lips to his, and move her lips over his, and feel his strong arms encircle her and pull her closer, and perhaps she even wanted to see what it would be like to feel his tongue touch her lips, perhaps even pass beyond her lips and inside of her mouth and . . .
She gasped out loud in horror, and Jax looked at her in bewilderment. "What?" he asked, looking perfectly divine and incensing her all the more. She was completely horrified to realize she had never wanted anything more in her life than she wanted to feel his kiss. This was madness!
Brenda scowled at him furiously, for no good reason that he could discern, and then she stepped down *extra* hard on his offered hands as she got up on the horse.
"You will please remember, Your Highness, that I am engaged," she said, feeling so hot and bothered that she longed for a fan, even on this pleasantly cool morning.
Jax rose and walked over to his horse, Excalibur, and in a swift and graceful motion that sent another traitorous surge of longing through her, mounted the horse. He then tapped Brenda's ringless hand. "You are *not* engaged," he said. "And I do not see why you feel the need to remind me of something that is not even the truth."
She looked as if she wanted to let loose a tirade on him. He did so love the unpredictable wildness of her . But, of course, he was the Prince, and she was trying with all of her might to mind herself in his presence. He could, of course, allow her once again to speak freely in front of him, but he rather liked seeing her so out of sorts. Especially when he was beginning to realize why she was in such a state.
"Correct, Your Highness," she said after a long pause to curb her response. "I am not technically engaged *yet,* but I have shared with you the fact that I am in love with someone in Devonshire, and it is my wish and desire and intent to marry him as soon as I leave the palace."
"Assuming you will leave it, Brenda," he said quietly. He knew he should not have said that to her, but damn it, he was not thrilled with hearing the woman destined to share *his* life, going on and on about her desire to marry another man.
"Why would I not?" she asked, suspicious gold-flecked brown eyes staring pointedly at him.
Jax's return gaze was enigmatic and arrestingly beautiful. "The future, by its very nature, is just such an unpredictable thing. That is all that I meant," he said, and then he began to go into instruction on what she should do to get Sheba moving.
Brenda listened to his instructions intently, but in the back of her mind she wondered what he meant about the unpredictability of the future. Somehow she was sure she should be worried about his words. But oddly enough, worry was not the emotion she was feeling. An annoyingly pleasant, very much uninvited current of excitement was…
Michael Carruthers sat outside in the gorgeous sunshine of the bustling Windsor Square eating lunch with fellow foot-patrol soldier Arden Chambers. As they ate their savory beef stew with thick slices of buttered bread, and drank their ale, Arden noticed the scowl on Carruthers’ brow. It was a perpetual scowl, Arden noted. For it never seemed to disappear. Carruthers was not one to ever smile or be joyful for any reason. He seemed to enjoy misery and it made him truly out of place in a kingdom as lively as this one. Arden wondered if perhaps even while making love to a woman did Carruthers wear that morbid scowl.
"Is good humor against your religious beliefs, Carruthers?" Arden teased.
Michael shot his scowl over to Arden. "You would not be in good humor if you had been removed from the Realm," he muttered.
Arden shrugged. "Well I was never *in* the Realm, so what do I know of missing such glories? And did you not say your leaving the Realm could not be helped. It was some back injury, or the like, that forced you to have to remove yourself. Is that not what you said?"
"It makes no difference the circumstances that forced me to leave the Knights of the Realm," Michael said. "It is not something I celebrate."
And I have heard you did not *leave* it, my dishonest friend, but were dismissed from it for some sort of ineptitude, Arden thought.
"I can only pray your morose disposition is not contagious," Arden Chambers said, taking a tasty heaping spoonful of the thick stew. "I would not wish to catch anything so nasty."
Michael did not answer him as he was too preoccupied with his anger at his lack of progress in getting the King of Kent to reveal to him what it was that was in the Enchanted Forest behind the palace. King Thomas’ refusal to reveal what it was did solidify a suspicion Michael had been harboring, however, – that whatever it was that was in the forest was *not* some evil thing as King Thomas had long purported, but was in fact something vastly coveted and perhaps priceless beyond words in some way.
"You know what you need, Carruthers?" Arden suggested, breaking off a piece of bread. "You need a woman! That will cure what ails you, my miserable man."
Michael took a swallow of ale and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He glanced over at the annoying Arden Chambers who looked pretty enough to be a woman himself. "I have a woman," Michael told him.
"Oh yes," Arden said. "The one you claim is such a raving beauty -- that a man would find his climactic pleasures just at the sight of her walking by fully attired," he murmeud with a roll of his eyes.
"It is not a claim, Chambers, it is a fact. She has such beauty that would make a man go mad!"
"Well perhaps she has some competition then, Carruthers. I hear that some raving beauties are residing at Palace Windsor these days. One in particular seems to have caught the eye of His Highness, so say the gossips."
Michael took a long sip of ale. "Tell me more," he said staring ahead stonily.
"Well, it’s all just gossip you know. But I hear that His Highness has sent that mistress of his, that luscious, exotic beauty Karina, packing. I hear that from all observances it would appear that he is readying himself to take a bride and has no interest in any other women. The gossips are wagering when the announcement will come of his nuptials."
Michael’s dark eyes, darkened even further as he could not help thinking that out of all of the Barrett sisters, the swine Prince would want his Brenda. No matter how much she put him off the swine would want her until he was mad with the desire, and he would try to take her -- he would wed her -- damn him to the darkest bowels of hell!
"Is that all you have heard?" Carruthers asked in dull monotone.
Chambers nodded. "She's got to be something spectacular for His Royal Highess to agree to give up sweet bachelorhood at the tender young age of twenty-three!" Chambers exclaimed swigging some more ale as he shook his head in amazement.
Michael nodded in assent to that observation, deciding it was time for him to find a way to see Brenda and make sure she was reminded that she belonged to *him.* Enough with the chaste kisses and talking between bushes and the like. He was hers and it was time for him to claim her with his mouth and his touch and let her know she was forever his.
Brenda was a natural with the horse. And it was not long before she was galloping along the beach and asking an impressed Prince Jasper if he would perhaps teach her how to make the horse jump and do other tricks she had seen in the festivals and read about in books.
"Not today," Jax said. "It's too soon, and I couldn't live with myself if you broke one beautiful bone in that body of yours," he said as the horses slowly trotted along the white sand beach.
"I love this!" Brenda said. "Do you think we could race against each other one day?" she asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes at the idea of beating the prince himself. What a thing to brag about that would be!
"When you have had more experience, yes," Jax said. "I have been thinking about something," he mentioned as he dismounted Excalibur and then helped her off of Sheba.
Brenda was stunned at the surge of pleasure that shot through her as the Prince's hands slid over her rear end as he placed her on the sand.
"I think the best way to disinterest your sisters from me," he said as they walked slowly along the beach, the horses following leisurely behind, "would be for me to spend all of my time with *you.*"
"No!" Brenda said., not liking that idea at all. "No, Your Highness. All that will do is make them hate *me.*"
"And me, I think," Jax said. "That is my point."
Brenda did not relish spending all of her time with him. She did not think she could handle it given these… er . . .urges she was feeling with increasing frequency.
"What about our plans for you to . .to . . turn them off one by one, as we had discussed? I've told you how to do it," she reminded him.
Jax shook his head. "This will be much more expedient," he said, tethering the horses to a stone bench.
"I think our original way is better," Brenda insisted stubbornly.
"I think not," Jax said with a shrug. Then he took her hand and began leading her away from the beach.
"W…where are we going?" she asked, realizing he was leaving the horses behind.
"I'm going to show you the Secret Garden," he said.
"No, you cannot do that!" she insisted. "Geneva asked only this morning that you show it to *all* of us. You cannot take me there and not them," she said firmly.
"I can, Brenda. And I am going to. It is a much better experience shared by two. Trust me on this."
Trust him? She wanted to kill him!
He felt her growing frustration. He decided to add to it by linking his fingers intimately through hers, and walking slightly behind her so that his swinging hand occasionally would brush against her thigh and her bottom. Brenda felt mad desire racing through her, although her outrage was trying desperately to outrun the desire.
She planted her stylishly booted feet solidly on the ground coming to halt and causing the Prince to bump into her, which to her consternation was an immensely pleasurable moment.
"May I speak freely?" she asked through gritted teeth.
Jax looked at her and shook his head, a tantalizing little smile playing against his sensuous lips.
Her mouth fell open at his refusal. Jax tapped his finger beneath her chin to close her astonished mouth. Then to her shock he swooped her up into his arms, one hand suspiciously resting contentedly against her backside.
"We have to cross a little stream now," he explained to her. "I know you wouldn't wish to ruin my sister's boots."
Brenda felt steam coming out of her ears, for more reasons that one. "You seem quite willing to ruin *yours,* Your Highness," she snapped, unable to hold her tongue.
"This I do, only for you," he said, crossing the little stream and then setting her down on the grass.
Brenda angrily walked a few paces away from him, aggravated to find the breathless, warm sensations plaguing her once more. The floral scents were strong now, and she knew they must be very close to the garden.
"Right through the archway," Jax instructed.
Brenda hesitated. "We should go and get my sisters," she said stubbornly.
Jax walked up behind her. She felt him remove her cap and felt his hands touching the tall curls of her ponytail. "Don't you want to go inside?" he whispered enticingly.
She did. The scents alone were alluring, not to mention the bright, vivid colors she could see even from this vantagepoint. The beauty was calling out to her to come and explore!
"Come on," Jax said, sliding her hand into his and tugging gently. "We can bring your sisters here another time."
She didn't remember agreeing with him, but she was holding onto his hand with both of hers and following him through the silver archway and into the Secret Garden. The sights and scents became more vivid than ever.
"Ohhhhh," she murmured in awe, gazing around at the floral beauty.
"Look at this," Jax said, leading her through a winding path of the lawn surrounded by blooming hyacinths and deep gold Forsythia bushes. He led her to an enormous, gold trellis with roses of every color imaginable wrapped around it. Colors Brenda had never even seen before. The aroma was heavenly.
"I have never seen flowers of such colors!" she gasped, kneeling down to touch the soft petals.
"They don't grow anywhere else but here," he told her, plucking a sky blue rose from the trellis and gently placing it in her hair.
"Why is that?" she asked curiously.
"Enchanted soil," he whispered.
She laughed, having no idea that he was very serious.
"My goodness," she breathed as she walked further into the garden passing larkspurs, lupines, daylilies, very tall tulips, Jerusalem sage, bright red pelargoniums, vivid purple African violets, vibrant sun-gold marigolds, tri-color pansies, magenta colored daisies, rainbow-colored chrysanthemums. "Every flower known to mankind must grow here!" she decided, watching in shock as a family of ladybugs marched along a camellia leaf. Her shock was due to the fact that the normally red ladybugs were blue!
Jax gazed at the blue ladybugs and rolled his eyes, knowing this must be Simon's doing, or mis-doing, as the case may be. Obviously he did not have a handle on the spell of colors yet.
"Is that . . .a *blue* ladybug?" Brenda asked, staring at the procession of black-spotted, little, blue insects.
"Looks that way," Jax said evasively.
"But how can there be such a thing?" she asked, unable to take her eyes from the blue bugs. Then she turned to Jax and laughed. "It must be that 'enchanted soil' again, right?"
He smiled at her, and strange and lovely sensations trickled throughout her bloodstream.
"I saw you last night, you know," she mentioned as they sat down in an area surrounded by vibrant, sweet-smelling wildflowers.
"I know," he said. "I saw you as well," he said, recalling how the moon's shifting at that precise moment had given him a view he would never forget.
"You were in the Enchanted Forest last night."
Jax just nodded.
"Is it far from where we are now?" she asked him.
Jax shook his head. "Just over the footbridge," he said.
"Since it is forbidden for me to go there, could you tell me what it's like?" she asked. "Is it like this?" she added, gesturing to the beauty of the gardens.
"Even better," Jax told her with a smile. "Much better."
"Tell me!" she said excitedly, inadvertently resting her hand on his knee.
Jax took her hand and stroked it as Brenda felt her breathless condition returning fast. "I will show it to you," he promised her. "One day. Soon."
Brenda gasped in delight. "You will? You will show it to us?!"
"I will show it to *you,*" he said.
She gazed at him for a moment, still very much aware of his hand stroking hers. It felt so good that she wanted to curl up against him and . . . oh drat -- not these thoughts again!
"I would not wish you to break any rules for me, Your Highness," she said seriously.
"Jax," he said, mesmerizing her with the ocean that was his eyes.
Brenda, as usual, refused to call him by that name, as it implied too intimate of a friendship in her eyes. It was not as if he were offering everyone in her family the honor of addressing him as such. Only her. She did not wish to take him up on it, although he certainly was persistent in reminding her that he would prefer it, she noticed.
"I know that the law states that entry into the Enchanted Forest is forbidden by all but the royal family," she continued. "I would not wish you to break that rule for me." She could only imagine her sisters' outrage at such a thing! They would murder her in her sleep, for sure.
"You have every right to see it," was all Jax said.
What on earth did he mean by that? She did not understand him. Not one, tiny bit!
"Could you show me the vanilla-scented flower?" she asked him, still reveling in the feel of him stroking her hand. She was doing nothing to stop him, although she knew she should withdraw her hand and cease this flow of pleasure. She simply did not wish to do so.
"Vanilla-scented flower?" Jax repeated, gazing at her in confusion. His perplexed look was adorable, and she laughed.
"Last night, my windows were open and when the breeze blew, the scent of vanilla was in the air," Brenda told him. "It was marvelous! And I wondered what flower could produce such a scent?"
"Oh, that," Jax said, nodding. "That is not a flower," he told her.
"A bush? A tree?" she guessed.
"No," Jax said. "It is something else." He couldn't very well tell her it was the scent of the Friday wind of the Enchanted Forest. Tonight the scent would be jasmine, as it was every Saturday. "You will understand when you are in the Enchanted Forest," he assured her.
Brenda was very intrigued. She recalled Michael telling her that something evil lurked in the Enchanted Forest. That certainly did not seem to make any sense, however. Perhaps if she saw exactly what was there, she could tell Michael that he was very much mistaken.
"One thing I must ask of you, Brenda," Jax said. "You can tell no one of what you see once you pass beyond the gates and enter the forest with me. No one."
Brenda rose a dark eyebrow. Well, this was problematic. Now she could not tell Michael anything about what she would discover.
"Promise me you will not," Jax said.
Brenda suddenly realized it was taking an awesome amount of trust for him to even take her there at all. Surely, despite what he'd said, he *was* breaking the rules taking a non-royal into the forbidden forest. She would not make him regret it.
"I do promise," she said.
He rose to his feet suddenly, taking her with him. "Are you hungry?" he asked her. They had been gone from the palace for over two hours now. It was approaching noon, as the sun rose high in the Fahrlane-blue sky.
"Yes," she said, nodding. "We should go back now."
Jax shook his head, and Brenda felt that surge of heated excitement hit her as he flashed her that wicked smile once more. "We don't have to go back," he told her and gestured off to the left, where in a clearing surrounded by yellow and white tulips, some palace attendants were setting up a fabulous picnic-style luncheon fit for a prince.
Brenda was thinking that her sisters would KILL her if they knew about this.
"I think, Your Highness, this may not be such a good idea," she said determinedly, thinking by the time they finished eating and then relaxing while their food digested, another two of three hours would have passed. And this dreadful urge to kiss him was not lessening at all. God help her if she lost her mind and actually acted upon the outrageous and highly improper desire. "Yes, this is definitely not a good idea," Brenda decided.
"I think it *is* a good idea," Jax said, and she was starting to pick up on his pattern of contradicitng her in such matters. Then he twirled one of her long curls around two of his fingers. "Do you like Paganini?" he asked her.
"The Italian composer?" she asked, somewhat confused by his quick change of topic.
"No, the other Paganini," he smiled at her. "The palace musician," he said. And that was when Brenda heard it -- the familiar strains of the palace musician's violin. She gazed over to the clearing where the attendants continued to prepare the luncheon, and she saw Paganini playing away, his talented fingers seducing sweet and merry sounds from the violin.
"It's dancing in the wildflowers music," Jax said, grabbing her and twirling her around. Brenda, at first shocked by the wild rush of desire within her at the feel of his arms pulling her towards him, relaxed and laughed as they did all sorts of silly dances to the merry, up-tempo tune Paganini was masterfully playing. He reminded her of the childhood stores of the mad fiddler who could not stop playing and that made her laugh all the more. She could not ever recall having so much fun in her life! They danced around and around in mad circles until they were breathless, and at last the music stopped. They were both laughing, their combined laughter a joyous sound in the tranquil garden.
Brenda's arms were clasped tightly around Jax's neck as they finally stopped their wild circling, and he leaned against a tree breathless and lighthearted just to be with her like this.
"I think you can let me go now," he teased her, seeing that she was not releasing him.
To his surprise, her arms tightened around him.
"No, I do not think I can," she said in astonishment.
Jax told himself to be careful and take it easy as he felt a wild surge of desire shoot through him. "You cannot?" he asked, his voice a soft, questioning murmur against the top of her hair.
"I . . . do not want to," she said, shocking herself even more than him. Her words forewarned her that her urge had conquered her, and it was going to happen. She was going to do it. Oh drat and double drat!
Jax just looked at her, not quite sure what she meant. "You do not want to . . .?"
She pulled away from him slightly, her eyes lowered. She could not believe this was happening! She willed herself to just barely brush his lips, satisfy her curiosity, and then pull away. But the power of what she was feeling made her realize that a brush of his lips would never do. Oh, drat to the tenth degree!! The urge burst forth inside of her all of a sudden, and as Jax watched in contented amazement, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips passionately to his.
Well, that settles it. I have *truly* gone mad! she thought as her lips moved like velvet heat over his, and his reaction to her was instantaneous and startlingly passionate, matching her passion easily, and then surpassing it. But not for long, as she was easily able to match his passion as well, incurring his sultry murmurs of encouragement.
She felt his hands pressing against the small of her back, felt the combined sensual heat of the sunshine, her body and his as she wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck. The feel of his tongue sliding against her lips startled her. Oh, lord, that felt so good! She had not expected it to feel so good. She thought she would possibly faint. How embarrassing that would be! His tongue slid along first her top lip, then her bottom lip, then the line in between her lips coaxing her to let him inside. His hands slid from her back down to her backside, cupping her bottom and causing her to issue a soft, sensual moan that she wished she could have kept quiet. Her utterance resulted in her lips parting and his tongue entering.
Brenda was jolted by the delicious sensation of his tongue inside of her mouth, gliding over her teeth, seeking out her tongue and finding it, touching it, teasing it, tasting it. Her tongue, unaware that such pleasure as this existed, was eager to try it out and found his, tentative at first, stroking lightly, touching experimentally and then tangling sensuously with it, and this time causing him to be the one to moan into her mouth.
Her sisters would kill her repeatedly if they ever found out about this, she thought, even as she moaned in pleasure -- no longer caring if he heard her -- as the Prince cupped her closer to him and she felt dizzy by the heat they were generating. No, her sisters would do more than kill her; they would have her drawn and quartered and dragged through the streets on one of those ancient torture racks if they would know what she was doing now with the Prince; feeling now with the Prince . . .
Jax had let her lead. She was the one who had led them into the kiss in the first place, but now he was taking the lead from her and showing her what to do, his passionate expertise giving rise to the remarkable amount of passion locked away in her waiting to be brought out by . . .well, *him,* of course. It was a destined thing.
Brenda was quickly becoming addicted to this kind of breathless, sensuous kissing. Slow, deep, delicious. Kisses like these were wildly arousing, she was discovering. Her entire body was flooded with heat, and she felt an answering heat from the Prince, not only in the form of his rapturous, wild kisses, but also the hard, rising pressure of his body against hers, a standing ovation of sorts, praising her affect on him.
She could kiss him forever, she realized. And ever and ever. But kisses would not be enough for him. His body was telling her that loud and clear. All at once the passion began to overwhelm her. She could not tear her lips away from him; she could not stop her body from pressing intimately against his heated arousal, and repeating that move when it became apparent how much he liked it. Lost in the vibrant, heated magic of his mouth and the sensual stroking of his hands and the knowledge his body was sending her an irrefutable message that he wanted her in ways unimaginable and could give her pleasures unimaginable as well, the almost-18-year-old Brenda passed out.
This kind of pleasure was something she had never known or felt or even believed in. Therefore, actually experiencing it in such a vivid way had been too much for her overjoyed hormones.
Jax gazed down at the limp and beautiful girl in his arms. The things she had just done to him were astonishing. Innocent, stubborn, difficult, startlingly beautiful, little Brenda had given him pleasures and cravings that none of his past lovers ever had. It baffled him, since all of these women were far more experienced than she. And yet he knew, he would have cast them all aside - cast aside endless nights of wanton pleasures -- for just one kiss from this one he held in his arms.
He reverently kissed her forehead and then lifted Brenda into his arms and headed towards the picnic area, which was now completely set up by the attendants. They had no doubt witnessed the lengthy passion explosion by the tree and had discreetly dispersed, even Paganini. Jax set Brenda down gently against the softness of the blanket and poured himself a glass of wine. He sat down next to her, his hand stroking the softness of her cheek, his fingertips then brushing softly over her warm lips, still attractively swollen from their urgent kisses. He gazed at her through the thickness of his lowered, blonde lashes and wondered with a half-smile exactly how furious she would be about what had transpired between them, once she opened her eyes.
Song Credit: "Storybook" written by Frank Wildhorn and Nan Knighton, available on the album entitled The Scarlet Pimpernel on Angel Records.