The Jester

Along the bumpy dirt road, a carriage sat with it's wheel askew. The driver worked tediously until he finally manage to work it off it's axis. Part of the wheel was fractured from it's merciless travel down the forsaken path. The driver glance up and noticed a thin, brown headed man dressed in black pants, and a colorful shirt walking toward him. He didn't appear to be a threat to his mistress in the carriage, so he continued working the wheel until it was lying flat in front of him. He had no idea what he could possibly do to restore such a mess, so that his lady would arrive at her destination on time. He was grateful at least that she was still snoozing comfortable inside rather than outside viewing this terrible tragedy.

"Hello there! I see your having some difficulty." The thin man had walked up to the driver, and was evaluating the damaged wheel.

"Yeah, it's beyond redemption at this point. My mistress will not be pleased when she hears this." The driver looked down heartedly at the pieces of medal and wood.

"Is your mistress of importance?" The thin man nodded toward the carriage, and watched as the driver stood up.

"Why do you ask young man, and who are you?" The driver stared hard at the man with mistrust.

"I'm a simple jester my man. I've been commissioned by the Castle Hallstead to perform for his majesty's court. I've been without my horse for a day now due to theft, but plan to purchase a new stud after I've been paid my handsome fee." The jester danced and jig, and bowed before the driver. "My dear man, may I save the day by informing you that there is a simple cottage nearby. I've been to this castle on more than one occasion, and know this road well. The people who own it work a farm, and both are kind and friendly. If I may be allowed to escort you and your fair maiden there, it would provide your mistress a place to stay while you send for another carriage, or new wheel?"

The driver looked at the carriage as though considering the idea. He let his breath out after holding it for so long. "I guess we'd better ask her ladyship." He knocked on the carriage door, and was surprised to see it immediately open.

"Jules, have we arrived?" A beautiful blond petite woman stepped down from the carriage, and both men moved to bow before her. She looked down at the wheel sitting on the ground, "Oh, I see we are without a wheel. Oh dear. I'm late as it is. Jules what are we to do?"

The driver quickly piped up, "Miss, I know it's an inconvenience, but I've been informed of a nearby cottage and friendly tenants. This man has been telling me that he is to be the new jester for the Castle Hallstead, and would gladly escort us to safety. I may have to leave you in said company until I'm able to arrange a return carriage from the castle. Would that be acceptable miss?" The driver looked hopeful as she released a sign of relieve.

"Yes, I suppose that would be best." She turned to the thin jester and noticed that he stood watching her intensity. "Kind sir, may I know your name?"

The jester bowed once more revealing his name. "My fair lady, my name is Trace. I've from Ridgeport originally, and would be most honored if I were allowed to escort you and your fine driver to my friend's cottage. I know they would be most pleased to be of assistance to such a beautiful mistress, such as yourself." He watched as a blush creped up her cheeks.

"I hope they will not find me an imposition as you say. We've no choice but to ask and see. I am Lady Marianne from Cornwell. Lead on my fellow man, and make haste. It's growing dusk soon." She turned to gather her small traveling bag, and handed it to the driver to carry. He quickly fell in step behind them as the jester walked with her in arm, down the dirt road.

As they traveled, the woman took the time to peer up at the thin, but somewhat dashing young man. His hair was shoulder length and wavy which fell whimsically about the top of his head. They arrived at the meager house after a good thirty minute walk. They didn't even have to approach the door before it was jerked open and a hefty woman in a white dress and plain brown apron ran to greet them. She immediately hugged Trace around the neck and yipped in excitement. "Oh you naughty boy! It's been such a long time since you've graced us with your presence. I was just telling George the other day how I wished you'd return, and here you are! Oh come inside, I've just finished supper, and pies for dessert. Come along everyone." Trace laughed as she pulled him inside the house.

"My dear Margaret, I've missed you too, and I've especially missed those wonderful biscuits you make. I wish to introduce you to my newly acquainted friends, Lady Marianne of Cornwell, and her dutiful driver Jules. Everyone, this is Margaret Finch, and I assume her husband George is around here somewhere?" He looked around the house for the tall burly man, but didn't seem to spot him, so he glanced at Margaret in confusion.

"Oh Trace, he's out in the barn working on something or another. He's been trying to get out of fixing my cabinet doors. I've worn them out feeding the man. Why don't you two run out and get him, and I'll show this young lady where she can freshen up. She's looking quite pink from being out in the sun." The men went back out the door toward the barn behind the house, and Margaret guided Lady Marianne into the spare bedroom, where a basin and pitcher sat. She pulled one of the drawers open and laid out a washcloth, and some talc powder. "Here you go. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. I'm afraid I don't have a dress that would fit you, but tonight before bedtime if you like, I can wash yours and dry it in the morn."

"I am so pleased with your hospitality as it is Madame, I couldn't impose on you for anything more. The dress will be fine, but I do appreciate the offer. Thank you ever so much." She reached over and hugged Margaret around the neck and then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm disappointed that our carriage was broken down, but I'm so happy that I was allowed the opportunity to make your acquaintance."

Margaret patted her on the arm with a large grin upon her face, "Oh dear, you do my old heart good child, to hear you say such sweet things. You are most welcome, and will always be greeted with open arms if ever the opportunity or mood strikes you to visit again. I am glad for the company. It gets lonely here with just George and me, and the old coot doesn't talk much. I'll leave you be so you can freshen up now. You come to the kitchen for a hot meal when you've finished. I'll have it all ready for you." She closed the door behind her, and Marianne was secretly wishing she had a mother like Margaret. Her own mother was cold and distant, as was her father. The servants were more of her family than her own parents had been. Life wasn't all bad growing up since most of the servant dote on her, but she really wished that she wasn't forced to be what she was, and that was a dutiful daughter sent far away to greet a man she was force to marry. Jules admitted to her as much that if she truly was unhappy with the match, he would assist her in fleeing. He loved her dearly, and would be heart broken if she were to wed man of no morals or kindness, since clearly her own father only cared for his own happiness and gain.

Back in the barn, Trace greeted George and was welcomed in much the same way his wife had. The big man picked Trace up in a bear hug and wasn't the least bit concerned how it appeared to the gentleman standing behind him. "Glad to see you lad! The misses has been hoping you'd return. She loves hearing your stories."

Trace laughed heartily, "Are you sure it's just her that likes my stories? I recalled on my last visit you kept me up well into the night just so I could finish the tale about the princess and the peasant." The burly man blushed slightly before punching the tiny man in the arm.

"You need not remind me of that young man in front of our guest here." He turned to Jules and greeted him with a heavy handshake. The three discussed their dilemma with the carriage wheel, and it was settled that Jules would ride early in the morning toward the castle on George's mare Penny, and would send a carriage to retrieve Jules ward. All the while George and Trace would walk back to get the wheel and George would work on fixing it. "I've got all the materials in the barn to patch it up with. Just you leave it to me, and I'll have that carriage back together in no time." Jules offered to pay him for the services, but George shook his head. "Won't be a problem my man. I help all those in need when they need it. We are all Gods children, and I won't have him thinking bad of me. Now let us be off to supper, I've worked up an appetite."

They feasted on Margaret's meal until they were all full to satisfaction. Trace was finishing up on his third slice of pie, and Marianne watch in awe as George ate a whole one for himself. She found herself falling in love with the large farmer who had gushed over her fair beauty upon introduction. He sat there smiling at her across the table sharing a story about his children in their youth. She giggled as he told her a tale about him first meeting Margaret. She was chasing a pig which ran toward him, knocking him off his feet causing him to fall face forward in mud. Margaret had laughed so hard at the site, he became angry enough to tackle her into the mud as well. As she sat spattering curses at him, he found himself falling in love with the feisty woman. He said it was tasting her cooking for the first time that forced him into marrying her though. Her father was so pleased at the union at the time, he offered the same pig as a wedding feast. Margaret piped up and admitting she was thrilled the kill the horrible beast since she had been chasing the stupid pig for two years. It apparently was smart enough to keep escaping it's pen, and it was her job to keep retrieving the ugly beast. Since it had fatten over that years, it was getting harder and harder to catch.

Once dinner was completed, the elderly couple laid out blankets for the two men, and once Margaret saw Marianne safely to her room, the two disappeared into their bedroom at the back of the cottage. Trace starred at the door where Marianne slept, and pondered if the lady was always so sweet and gentle. He settled into his blanket near the fire, and question Jules about her. He could tell Jules thought the world of the lady as he sat there and ran over the list of her qualities in pride. He became sad when he informed Trace how he wished his lady would be happy in her future marriage, and was worried that the match had been made without consideration of Marianne's feelings or well being. Trace promised to keep an eye out for her since servants weren't allowed near court. Jules fell a sleep with hope that his new friend would aid in protecting his lovely charge against any wrong doings.

Marianne sat in her bed, too energetic to sleep. Her long nap on the road had fully charged her, and she became bored after several minutes. She had taken off her filthy dress afraid it would dirty the lovely blankets that Margaret had on the bed. She had let her hair down and was using her fingers to release the tangles. The room she was in was very small and humble. Only the table where the basin sat, and a nightstand near the bed furnished the room. The window had heavy drapes hanging from it blocking all the moonlight out, and she wasn't sure how to push them aside to stay. She began to feel closed in, and knowing that two men slept just outside her door, she was prevented from escaping. She wished she had thought enough to bring a novel to read, or even her stitching would be a pleasure at this point.

After an hour or so, she gathered the courage to peak outside. She could hear Jules snoring loudly, but Trace wasn't anywhere to be seen. Curiosity got the better of her, and she wrapped her cloak over her under garments and went off in search of him. She didn't have to search far. As she walked into the kitchen, she tripped on him sitting in the floor staring out the window at the beautiful full moon. He grabbed her before she hit the ground, and pulled her up against him.

"Are you okay my lady? I'm sorry I tripped you. I'm sitting here admiring the view, but why are you out of bed?" His face was so close, she noticed that his eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and found herself starring. "I'm fine really, and I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'm just not sleepy and was feeling a little caged in." She didn't draw away even though she was laying on top of him in such an uncomfortable position. He certainly didn't mind that her weight was pressing into him. She stared in wonder into his eyes, and finally said, "You have stars in your eyes sir. I can see them twinkling at me." She could feel his chest moving as he chuckled.

"My dear lady, I'll capture a few and placed them in your own eyes if you wish?" She smiled faintly and gave into the pressure of arching her back, and leaned into him. She rested her head on his shoulders, and turned slightly to ease her weight off of him. He pulled her tighter, and settled his arms around her. They sat in silence for what seemed a lifetime while he stroke her hair. She nearly dosed off a few times, but refused to move out of the comfort of his warm arms. Trace couldn't believe the lady was allowing herself to be held in such a manner. He caught himself holding his breath afraid that even an exhale would release the spell this enchantress had upon him.

"I'm glad for small miracles of broken carriages," she muttered into his shirt. "I wasn't overly excited to arrive at the castle today since it holds a most unbearable future for me. I was glad to have such a pleasant distraction from the whole affair. Thank you for saving me." A pain shot through his heart at the words of her distress. He wanted to make her laugh again, but the time to do that wasn't now. Laughing meant breaking the contact, and he wasn't about to disturb that. He vowed to watch out for her, for he most certainly had fallen deeply in love with her gentle soul.

"I believe I must get up for my legs have gone quite numb." She pulled back from him and went up on her knees beside him. He reluctantly let her go, but still didn't move from his position on the floor. She sat on her bottom and tucked her legs under her lifting the cloak and adjusting it around her. He couldn't help but notice a flash of skin as she positioned herself beside him. He could feel himself grow hard at the thought of her without a dress on under that cloak. He crossed his legs trying to hide his secret arousal. Even though it was dark, the length was standing at attention inside his pants. They sat and quietly chatted for hours. Neither wanted the night to end, because in the morning it meant she would have to leave him.

"I'm curious how you became a jester. What motivated you to do it?" He laughed as he confessed that he really wasn't good for anything else.

"I'm too thin and gawky to lift anything heavy to be a blacksmith or farmer, too intelligent and arrogant to be a servant in a household, and I can't really sing or play an instrument. All I have is my charm and wit. With a great imagination to boot, I sell myself to whomever wishes to be entertain by my stories and jokes. I travel to different places, and meet lots of people. They serve as my muse. I wouldn't be happy to just settle in one place for long since it's the people and stories I hear when I travel that make me so appealing."

She considered this, and begged him to tell her one of his stories. He proceeded to tell her about the princess and peasant, the same story that had George begging for more. She sat in silence listening to him talk. She found his voice to be sexy and relaxing all in the same aspect. She leaned toward him in order to hear him better as his voice lowered during the tale. He had dropped his voice into a bare whisper, and found that she had leaned so close to him that their noses were almost touching. When he felt her breath on his lips, he stopped talking and gazed into her eyes. The moonlight had shifted directly behind her, and it formed a halo around her head. She was so beautiful.

"What happen next?" She whispered back. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly and answered her. "She kissed him." He watch the expression on her face as she digested this information. She seemed to be battling with something. He jumped when she moved to meet his lips with hers unexpectedly. They barely touched his, but she held it there softly and then moved to pull back. He wasn't about to let her go without tasting more of her sweet lips, so he leaned forward and pressed his lips back into hers. He gently rocked them back and forth over hers. She simply sat still and let him, but before long, she was answering his kiss in return. He groaned deep in his throat and traced his tongue along her bottom lip. She gasped in delight and he took the opportunity to dip his tongue into her honey flavored mouth and started drinking from it.

She couldn't help the warmth flowing in her veins as he assaulted her lips with his. She never wanted it to stop. Alas, he finally pulled back only to travel his kisses down her neck. She leaned back to allow him access. When she did, her cloak fell open, and gave him more skin to taste. She felt his fingers circle her waste and tighten, then felt him lift her and settled her across his lap once more. She felt his fingers travel up her waste to settle on the opening of her cloak which he proceeded to pull open exposing her pale flesh. His lips never left her as he muttered, "Oh my lady, you taste of honey, and feel like silk. I want to touch your softness. Please?" She reached up and grabbed his hands and pressed them to her. "Yes my sweet Jester. Please do." He slid his hands down her front and cupped her small breast in his palms. She groaned in response, and pressed into him. He tested the nipples with his thumbs, and was surprised to find them hard and tight. He pulled down the material covering her, and sucked one of the perky tips into his mouth. She gasped loudly and moved back as the touch seem to burn her skin. He didn't let go and held on with his teeth. The heat between her legs was unbearable. The folds of cloth were being soaked with her juices. He let his hands find the moistness and became so aroused that he could feel his erection pressing hard against her leg making it difficult to sit there. He stood up quickly and pulled her to her feet. She had difficulty standing, so he swept her up into his arms, and carried her into her room. He sat her onto the bed, but reality kicked in, and he immediately stepped back. He kept on moving toward the door, but stopped in the entrance. "I can't let this go further my love. You are a flower that is meant to be picked by someone else. I can't shame you no matter how much I want to bury myself in your welcoming arms. You must understand how much I love you. I promise to protect you my fair maiden against all who wish you harm, and that includes myself." He turned and quietly closed the door behind him. She sat there with tears in her eyes wishing that she were anybody else. She'd gladly give herself to this man if she wasn't already promise to another. She took off her cloak and wrapped herself under the covers with tears rolling down her cheeks, praying for another miracle.

When morning finally came, Marianne made use of the water in the basin to clean up, and grimaced as she struggled back into her soiled dress. She found Margaret in the kitchen pulling out a pan of freshly baked biscuits. "Oh there you are my dear. Did you sleep well?" Marianne nodded. Her mouth began to water as she sat down at the table. Margaret spooned warm applesauce into a bowl, and tossed a couple of hot biscuit onto a plate and set it in front of her. She poured a large glass of milk for them both. She sat down beside Marianne with her serving, and pushed a tub of butter toward her. "Eat up!"