Odel forgot about being kissed by a rat.
"Then, Michelle--"
Matilda nodded. "Lord Suthtun loves you."
For a moment, joy suffused her face, then it was immediately replaced with regret. "Oh no! What have I done?"
"Nothing that cannot be undone," Matilda assured her. Her godmother stood up, grabbed her hand, and dragged her toward the door. "Come with me."
"Where are we going?" Odel asked as she was led from the room and up the hall.
"You are going to straighten things out," Matilda announced firmly.
"But how?" Odel cried as they reached and started down the stairs. "What can I say? I thought my aunt had cast a spell on you? He will think me mad."
"You will come up with something," Tildy assured her, then paused at the bottom of the stairs. She glanced around before satisfaction crossed her face. "Look."
Odel followed her gesture to see Michelle standing in the doorway to the kitchens, talking to a servant. No doubt he was arranging for something to be taken to Eadsele.
"Go to him," Matilda urged quietly, digging a small pinch of fairy dust out of her sack. She blew it in the general direction of Lord Suthtun. All at once, the doorway he was standing in was suddenly alive with mistletoe. "Kiss him. Tell him you love him. Make things right."
Odel hesitated briefly, then swallowed, straightened and moved determinedly forward. She arrived at his side just as he finished with the servant. The girl retreated into the kitchen and Michelle turned toward the great hall, pausing when he found Odel in his path. She saw pain flash across his face, then it was gone, replaced by a smooth, emotionless facade.
"Lady Roswald," he murmured formally. "Is there something you wished?"
"Aye," Odel said huskily. "You."
At his startled expression, she pointed upward. He glanced up, spotted the mistletoe and his mouth tightened. She knew he was about to reject her, so she refused to give him the chance. Stepping forward determinedly, she reached up on tiptoe, catching his tunic and tugging him down to her. Their lips met.
It wasn't as easy as she had hoped. He did not melt into her embrace, did not take over the kiss and give his passion rein. Instead, he remained stiff and silent. Odel tried to coax some passion from him with her lips, but found it impossible.
Tears stinging her eyes, she drew back slightly. She whispered, "I was wrong, my lord. Last night . . . I was afraid. But now I am more afraid of losing you. Please, my lord. I love you."
Catching her upper arms, Michelle eyed her warily. "So you will be my wife?"
"If you are sure it is what you want," she said huskily. A smile blossomed on his lips.
"Aye, I am sure," he told her quietly. "I love you, too."
Joy filling her face, Odel started to reach up on tiptoe again to kiss him, but he lowered his head, meeting her halfway. This time the kiss was mutual.
A cat's hiss and a rustle of rushes distracted Odel and Michelle briefly from their kiss. They both glanced around in amazement as a pack of perhaps twenty rats fled through the open door of the keep and out into the cold winter day. Stranger, the long, thin cat that followed seemed less to be trying to catch them and more to be herding them away. Vlaster. It was a moment before Odel noticed that the great hall was decidedly empty of guests.
"Where did everyone go?" Michelle asked with surprise when he saw where she was looking. He glanced toward Matilda.
"Who, dear?" the woman asked innocently, not seeming to notice the panic growing on Odel's face.
"Lords Beasley and Trenton and--"
"Oh, my, well. They saw the lay of the land and retreated," Odel's aunt said sweetly. She arched an eyebrow at them. "Is there something you two wish to tell me?"
Michelle hesitated and glanced down at Odel, then smiled widely. "Aye. We shall be married tomorrow," he announced. He glanced down at Odel when she nudged him in the stomach. "What?"
"Tomorrow?" she asked pointedly.
"Aye," he said, then looked uncertain. "You will marry me tomorrow, will you not, Odel? I vow I shall work very hard to make you happy. I shall tell you you are beautiful every morning, brush your hair every night, and tend to you as kindly as I do my horse and my squire."
Odel burst out laughing at the proposal, then hugged him tightly. "I could not have asked for a more romantic offer, my lord. Aye, I shall marry you."
They had barely sealed the bargain with a kiss when Matilda released a husky sigh, then began bustling toward the door. "Well, that's that then. I am off."
"What?" Odel pulled slightly away from Michelle. The woman had hounded her all this time to be wed, and now she wasn't even going to be present? "But tomorrow is Christmas. And I would like you to be there when we are married. Will you not stay for the wedding?"
"Oh." Her aunt's expression gentled. "I shall be there, you may count on that. But in the meantime, I have much to do, my dear. Forty-nine to go, you know. Besides, you should spend Christmas with Lord Suthtun's family. And marry at Castle Suthtun as well. If you leave now, you should get there in time for the feast."
"But we could not leave Michelle's squire. Aunt Matilda, you--"
"His squire is much better, I understand, and more than healthy enough to make the journey." The words had barely left her mouth when Michelle's squire came bounding down the stairs, the very image of a healthy young lad. One could almost imagine he had never been ill.
"Are you really all right, boy?" Michelle asked with a frown. The lad spotted him and hurried to his side.
"Aye, my lord," Eadsele said, then he shook his head in bewilderment. "Only moments ago I felt weak and feverish, then as suddenly as it came on, my illness was gone. I feel right as rain."
"There you are, you see?" Matilda called, gaily ignoring Odel's annoyed glance. She waved on the servants that came trundling down the stairs with Odel's baggage; apparently the woman had made them begin packing for her. "No reason at all for you to remain here alone through the holidays. Go on to Suthtun. His mother and sisters shall adore you, I promise. Why, by this time tomorrow you shall hardly recall me."
"Oh, but--" Odel began, but whatever protest she would have given faded from her mind in a fit of sneezing. There seemed to be dust everywhere. The door closed behind Matilda and the last of her servants. Turning with confusion, Odel peered at Suthtun.
Smiling, he pressed another quick kiss to her soft lips. "Come along. She is right. My mother and sisters shall adore you as much as I do."
Odel was silent for a moment, then she smiled slowly. "But no more than I adore you."
Laughing as Suthtun grabbed her hand, she ran with him toward the door and out into a whole new world.
About the Author
LYNSAY SANDS is the nationally bestselling author of the Argeneau/Rogue Hunter vampire series, as well as numerous historical romances and anthologies. She's been writing stories since grade school and considers herself incredibly lucky to be able to make a career out of it. Her hope is that readers can get away from their everyday stress through her stories, and if there's occasional uncontrollable fits of laughter, that's just a big bonus.
www.lynsaysands.net
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Also by Lynsay Sands
Under a Vampire Moon The Reluctant Vampire Hungry For You
Born to Bite
The Renegade Hunter The Immortal Hunter The Rogue Hunter Vampire, Interrupted Vampires Are Forever The Accidental Vampire Bite Me If You Can A Bite to Remember A Quick Bite
Tall, Dark & Hungry Single White Vampire Love Bites
The Husband Hunt
The Heiress
The Countess
The Hellion and the Highlander Taming the Highland Bride Devil of the Highlands
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblanc
e to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Fairy Godmother originally appeared in the print anthology Mistletoe & Magic, published in paperback in 2000 by Leisure Books, an imprint of Dorchester Publishing Co.
THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. Copyright (c) 2000 by Lynsay Sands. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition APRIL 2012 ISBN: 9780062106766
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Lynsay Sands, The Fairy Godmother
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