At His Command-Historical Romance Version by Ruth Kaufman Read Free Book Online

called to him. Would they welcome him if he could bring himself to ask Cyril for an assignment? Watching wasn’t enough. But it was better than not being there at all.
    At length the tall birch pole stood ready. Dozens of colorful ribbons, streamers and garlands dangled, awaiting the dancers who took their positions.
    Nicholas’s heart cried out, “Please ask me to join you.” Sinful pride prevented him from asking aloud.
    Amice wore a flowing green gown embroidered in blue. White hawthorne flowers and leaves peeked out of her dark curls. Amice’s smile, her pleasant yet decisive demeanor when people asked advice, made him like her all the more. A wonderful lady of the manor.
    She laughed, moving gracefully into place, her back to him. But perhaps she heard his silent cry, for she turned and started toward him. He smiled inside as she continued her approach and held out her hand.
    “Come,” she said. “Everyone must dance.”
    The others shouted and waved for him to join their circle.
    He was welcome. Tears filled his eyes, a bittersweet ache tightened his throat. When was the last time he had cried? He forced himself not to blink, knowing he’d melt into the very ground with embarrassment if anyone glimpsed how much this meant to him.
    Amice’s hand nestled in his as she led him to the circle.
    Yearning sliced through him at the feel of her smooth skin, joined by a sense of belonging. He didn’t want to let her go. More the fool he.
    “Go,” Amice whispered, releasing his hand. “We saved the place of honor, next to Ginelle, the queen of the May, for you.”
    Touched by her thoughtfulness, Nicholas took his place. He would’ve preferred to stay by Amice, for guidance in the dance and to have another excuse to hold her hand, but this position provided him a better view.
    As the musicians struck a lively tune, the dancers began their clockwise steps. Even Nicholas knew they had to go clockwise to follow the pattern of the sun. When the others added stomping with their right feet, he joined in as best he could.
    He didn’t want to miss a step, but watching Amice’s glowing face and slender form while keeping track of Ginelle’s feet proved a challenge.

    Amice smiled as Nicholas grasped the simple pattern, noting his graceful movements. He seemed to be having a good time, and hadn’t even tried to refuse when she asked him to join them. Joy filled her as the dancers moved as one.
    Their gazes met across the circle. The rest of the world disappeared. She no longer heard the music or laughter of those around her. Could he know her smile was only for him? Did he watch her with equal fascination, or did she just happen to be in his line of sight? The day took on a new meaning because he was there to share it.
    After other dances came the games, including races and contests in jumping distances, archery, and ball throwing. Nicholas won the archery competition, and accepted his victory ribbon from Queen Ginelle with as much grace as he might have shown Queen Margaret had she bestowed him with a title.

    They feasted upon bread colored green with parsley, green peppermint rice and fruited beef. Seated next to Amice, Nicholas felt happier than he had in years.
    Amazing how quickly things could change for the better. One minute he bemoaned being the outcast, the next he happily cavorted in the midst of the festivities. Had he ever been as at ease? Felt so at home? In his travels, he’d seen others prize their homes, but he hadn’t truly appreciated the significance until this visit to Castle Rising. Until he met Amice and basked in her glow.
    How would he find contentment without such a home for himself? Without her?

    The next day, on her way to the inside kitchen, Amice found Maggie the laundress and Agnes the weaver jostling for position in an open doorway.
    “Ah, Sir Nicholas,” Maggie sighed. “What a body on that one, eh?”
    Unwillingly, Amice understood.
    Nicholas worked his horse in the bailey as other