II. A Gallant Cavalier

II.  A Gallant Cavalier

“Now then!  The reason I came to this party was to see this marvelous costume you are wearing!” Cassandra perked up, swiping her gloved hand over his breastplate.

“So please tell me!  Who are you supposed to be?”

He couldn’t discern if she was asking him rhetorically or if she genuinely wanted him to educate her.  If she came to the party because she wanted to see him dressed as a cavalier that implied that she was interested to see how well he did it or she had some romantic image in mind.  He suspected that Cassandra was a bit of an intellectual and she might know something about what he was talking about.

“Well, first off I am not a cavalier like everyone keeps calling me,” he began.

“Technically, a Cavalier was a Royalist cavalryman often identified by a red sash.  I represent a Parliamentarian soldier often referred to as a Roundhead.  I would be a Puritan who might have fled here to the New World during the Restoration of the monarchy once the Commonwealth fell in 1659.  Since I am American it seemed like a plausible persona to portray.”

Cassandra clasped her hands together and raised her finely-plucked brows.

“Yes!  Yes, indeed.  I can certainly imagine meeting such a man here in the Massachusetts Bay Colony back then,” she agreed with a pensive smile that inspired him onward.

“This is armor of the type worn by a harquebusier in about the year 1650.  It’s pretty standard for what cavalrymen in Oliver Cromwell’s New Model Army would have used during the English Civil War,” he continued.

“What were those men called again?” she interrupted, as if reminded of a word she used to know.

“Harquebusiers.  The term comes from the long gun called an harquebus, or carbine, that was their main weapon.  It hung on a baldric on their right side.  They usually had two wheel-lock pistols in holsters on either side of their saddle also,” he explained.

He didn’t dumb down the description he gave her like he did for most of the other people who asked about his kit. 

She nodded her understanding. 

“I have a functional wheel-lock carbine and two flintlock pistols at home, but I figured some people may not like it if I brought guns to a party,” he admitted.

“Yes.  That was probably a wise decision,” she agreed.

“Anyhow, by the mid-seventeenth century the full plate armor that knights had worn during the sixteenth century was obsolete because of improvements in firearms.  There was no way to make armor that could withstand gunfire and still be light enough to fight in.  Armor got to be so heavy that cavalrymen during this period discarded everything except for the helmet and the iron cuirass, which was a breast and backplate that were thick enough to be pistol proof,” he continued.

He knocked on his helmet and breastplate with his knuckles as he listed them.

“Harquebusiers also wore an armored glove that went up to the elbow on their left arm called a bridle gauntlet,” he added.

“I didn’t bring mine tonight because it is kind of clumsy to wear.”

Cassandra stood with her weight shifted to her right hip and her left arm pressed against her waist, holding her right elbow.  She stroked the tapered leather fingers of her right hand along her chin as she listened to him attentively.

“And your helmet is very distinctive,” she pointed out with a flick of her wrist.

“Does it have a name?”

“They most generally called it a lobster-tail pot,” he said. 

“But, the proper name for it is a Zischägge.”

“Zi-shag,” she repeated phonetically after him.

“The most common type in England would have three solid bars in front to protect the face from cuts.  I’m wearing a Dutch version with a sliding nasal bar so I can drink with my helmet on,” he rambled.

“So a harquebusier wore a helmet called a Zischägge,” she reiterated. 

He nodded.

“I feel that I should know these words,” she said to herself quietly.

“I am certain I have heard them before, but it has been so long ago that I cannot recall.”

“Maybe you have seen the terms used in some historical fiction you have read.  If the authors did their research they may have used the proper terminology,” he suggested.

She shook her head with frustration.

“No.  That is not it,” she corrected him.

“My family was among the Puritan settlers who first came to this country before the outbreak of the English Civil War.  It has been many years since I have thought about them and my memories have faded.” 

“Wow!  That’s cool!” he exclaimed in regard to her ancestors.

Before he could say anything else she reached out and pinched his sleeve. 

“I do recall this leather jacket you are wearing under your armor is called a ‘buff-coat’, is it not?”

She kneaded the thick, yellowish-tan leather between her gloved fingers.

“Yeah!  That’s right!” he answered enthusiastically.

“This leather is heavy weight, but very supple,” she remarked.

His excitement grew.  Not only was she interested in his hobby, but she actually knew something about it too! 

“This buff-coat is a replica of an original displayed in the Tower of London.  As you probably know, it is not a luxury garment like the leather coat you are wearing, Mrs. Harper,” he pointed out, with a giddy flutter in his stomach.

“Buff-coats were specially made of oil-tanned leather that was tough enough to protect against sword cuts, pike thrusts, and even pistol balls at long range!”

“So they functioned as a lighter form of armor,” she chimed in, finishing his thought for him.

He nodded with a grin.

“And as you said, my leather coat would not protect me at all if somebody tried to stab me with a sword.  The lambskin it is made of is too soft and thin,” she added, pinching her own shiny left sleeve.

“I doubt that anyone is going to threaten you with a sword anytime soon, Mrs. Harper,” he chuckled.

“I certainly hope not!” she huffed humorously, dropping her hand to her breast with a limp wrist.

“But,” he announced somewhat dramatically.

“If you would like, I will show you mine!”

He stepped away from her and looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was standing close by.  Grabbing the scabbard hanging along his left side, he reached for the handle of his sword with his right hand.

“This is a mortuary hilt backsword,” he told her, drawing it with a flourish.  

Her eyes widened and followed the polished steel blade as he waved it in the air. 

“Oh my!” she exclaimed, with parted lips and brows raised. 

“This is the kind of cavalry sword that was popular at the time of the English Civil War with a blade broad enough to deliver good cutting blows.  It is single-edged with a thick spine to also make the blade stiff for a good thrust,” he explained.

Gripping the sword by the flat of blade he presented the hilt to her.

“Here.  Would you like to hold it?” he offered.

“Oh!  May I?” she gasped.

“Sure!  Go ahead,” he grinned with encouragement.

Smiling with obvious delight, she slithered her small left hand into the steel basket and wrapped her fingers around the grip gingerly. 

“Are you left-handed, Mrs. Harper?” he asked.

“Yes,” she sighed self-consciously.

“It is one of the many ways God inverted me.”

It looked awkward to him to see her take the hilt in her left hand, but she managed it easily.

“Hold it like you mean it, Mrs. Harper!  I’m going to let go!” he laughed as he released it.

The blade dropped a few inches and then wavered back up as she hefted it.  The point continued to wobble as she held it out with her arm extended.

“Oh my!” she repeated.

“I would never have the strength to use one of these things!”

“Believe it or not, it weighs less than three pounds,” he pointed out ironically.

“Really?  It feels heavier than that,” she said, laying the flat of the blade against the shiny leather palm of her right hand to support it.

She examined the edge, not daring to touch it even with her glove on.

“This blade looks sharp!”

“Yeah.  Be careful.  It’s got a good edge on it,” he cautioned.

Watching the beautiful woman sheathed head-to-toe in gleaming black leather fondle his sword was more than a little stirring to him.  Her tapered leather fingers caressed his blade with an elegant reverence that took his breath away.  Her bright green eyes remained wide with childlike wonder.

“Why did they call them mortuary hilts?” she asked, examining the curved steel cage that enclosed her fist.

Nathan had to swallow the lump in his dry throat before he could speak.

“The hilts of several swords like this are chiseled with a face that is supposedly the likeness of the beheaded King Charles I,” he answered.

“Oh dear!  That is what I was afraid of,” she gulped when he mentioned the decapitated king.

He chuckled grimly.

“And this must be sharkskin on the handle.  The rough little bumps bite into my glove,” she observed.

“You’re right, Mrs. Harper!  It is sharkskin!  Most people have no idea when I ask them to guess what it is,” he remarked.

She didn’t react to his compliment.

“Where did you get a sword like this?” she asked in a mystified tone.

“It’s a custom piece I ordered from a company in Scotland.  They do really good work.  It is based very exactly on an existing sword that dates to about the year 1650,” he told her.

“I saw swords like this when I was a girl, but I was never allowed to touch one,” she muttered before turning her attention to him again.

He was going to ask her how she was exposed to swords as a child when she held his out to him rather solemnly with both hands.

“Thank you Nathaniel!  This is almost too beautiful to be a weapon.  It looks like a work of art that belongs in a museum.”

He took it from her by the blade, balancing it easily with one hand.

“Oh!  Be careful not to cut yourself!” she fretted needlessly.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Harper, I'm pretty comfortable with my blade,” he assured her.

Tossing the sword up he snatched it from the air by the handle and with one fluid motion he thrust the point back into the scabbard without looking.  It was a move he had practiced a thousand times.  The blade slid into the sheath until the guard slapped against the metal locket with a satisfying clang.  He simultaneously bowed to her, scraping ceremoniously with his right foot.   

He was showing off, of course, but he couldn't resist.  Presenting his kit to someone had never been so exhilarating before!

Cassandra appeared more than sufficiently impressed.  She pressed her leather fingertips to her smiling lips.  Her expression reflected far more than reserved amusement over a mere novelty.  The dazzled look in her eyes resembled something akin to heartfelt joy.  Something he did or said appeared to touch her deeply.

Perhaps he had impressed her too much? 

“Can you truly be real, Nathaniel?” she gasped to herself.

“It is as if you have opened a door to the past that I thought forever closed...”

The collar of her white blouse quivered about her throat.  She clasped her trembling hands as she lowered them to her bosom

“Thanks, Mrs. Harper,” he answered.

“I try to be as historically accurate as possible.”

He so numb with excitement that he scarcely noticed the weight of his armor, but he nervously rolled his shoulders and squirmed inside of his breastplate.

Turning his attention away from Cassandra for the first time in several minutes he noticed that a small crowd of his coworkers had gathered close by, obviously listening to him talk about his kit.  Nathan was usually glad to attract onlookers while he presented, but in this case it felt like they were eavesdropping on a private conversation.

Ryan was among them and could not resist making a wisecrack, of course.

“Hey, Nathan!  Will you whip your sword out for the rest of us too?  Or is Mrs. Harper the only person allowed to touch it?” he guffawed in his disrespectful way. 

Cassandra did not turn her head, but her green eyes glanced to the side where the remark came from.  When she looked back at Nathan her brow knit with distress and her red lips parted in a grimace around her pearly white teeth.  Her alabaster cheeks blushed bright crimson.

“Please excuse me, Nathaniel,” she apologized quietly, ducking her head as if embarrassed by the innuendo.  

“I need a moment to... compose myself.  Forgive me.”

She gathered her lapels in one hand and pressed her other hand to her stomach as she scuttled away with her face hidden by the collar of her coat.

Ryan leered at her as she passed by before pouncing on Nathan.

“You’re getting to spend lots of quality time with Mrs. Harper this afternoon,” he smirked.

“Why are you always such a smart ass, man?” Nathan snapped, more than a little annoyed that his conversation with Cassandra got cut off yet again.

“You know, it may not be the best idea to humiliate the boss’s wife!”

“What is she going to do?  Tell Marvin to fire me?” Ryan snorted.

“If she is as much of a bitch as you guys make her out to be, she might!” Nathan countered.

“Dude!  I was just joking around,” Ryan laughed.

“We saw you getting your geek on over here for Mrs. Harper and thought we would check it out too.  That sword is pretty wicked!  Seriously, can you pull it out again?”

Several guys congregated around him.  Nathan didn’t mind showing his stuff to his work buddies.  That was the very reason why he wore his kit to the party.  At the moment, though, it was just inconvenient. 

Cassandra’s unexpected interest in him totally changed his perspective of the party.  The perfect lady was granting him audience and he wanted to take full advantage of it.  Nathan didn’t really care if he talked with anyone else but her now and being interrupted for a third time aggravated him. 

Nevertheless, he could not escape the mob of coworkers that surrounded him.  He tried not to act irritated as he answered questions about his sword and armor, but he did not elaborate in his descriptions like he usually did.  

His eyes scanned around the yard for Cassandra the whole time as he spoke.  Her tall leather witch hat and red hair should have been easy to spot, but he did not see her among the crowd.  She was not by the bonfire or the barn, nor was she was near the house.  She was nowhere to be seen!

Over the next fifteen minutes several of Nathan’s friends tried on his helmet and held his sword.  He was so distracted by Cassandra’s disappearance that it felt like they held him captive for an eternity and he grew increasingly impatient.  Ryan felt the need to punch Nathan’s breastplate and bruised his knuckles to prove that it was real armor.  Everyone laughed at him for being an idiot as they finally dispersed.

Nathan immediately began searching for Cassandra, becoming somewhat frantic that he could not find her.  His stomach churned and his mind raced with nervous anxiety.  If she went inside the house to use the bathroom she was taking a long time!  Where could she be?  Did she go out to her car?  Did she already leave? 

He was relieved to see that Marvin was still there.  Presumably, Cassandra came with her husband in the same car, so she couldn’t leave without him.  Nathan considered asking him where she was, but he didn’t want to appear like he was stalking her.  

He stopped and took a deep breath.  He just needed to chill out before he embarrassed himself hunting Cassandra down like some kind of obsessed maniac.  If he hung out near Marvin he would not miss her.           

He refilled his mug with beer and took his helmet off to get some air.  Joining the large group gathered around the picnic tables, he stood where he could watch Marvin and keep an eye on the back door of the house at the same time.  

Marvin was seated beside Jeff and Nancy near the bonfire with several people from sales and upper management clustered nearby.  Unfortunately, this also included Kathy, Linda, and Barb who alternately led conversation by bragging about their grandkids or gossiping about coworkers who were not present.       

The current victim of the secretaries’ scathing tongues was the staff accountant; a neurotic, mousy woman named Janice.  Janice was probably in her mid-forties.  She was not married and had probably never been with a man in her life.  She obviously suffered from depression and was afflicted with a non-stop variety of physical ailments from headaches to fibromyalgia to irritable bowel syndrome.  She constantly missed work for illness, doctor appointments, and medical testing.

As much of a hypochondriac as Janice was Nathan found it a bit contradictory that the secretary clique was picking on her for it because they all missed more than their fair share of sick days from work as well.

Somebody brushed against Nathan’s arm.

His heart leapt in his chest!  

It was Cassandra!  She literally appeared out of nowhere!

“Looking for me?” she chirped quietly.

“Hey!” he grinned back at her ardently.

“I was wondering where you went!”

She smiled at him and batted her dark lashes bashfully.  Wherever she went she had freshened her makeup.  A fresh coat of glossy crimson gleamed wetly on her lips.  

Before she could utter another word Kathy’s voice bleated loudly.

“Yeah.  I bet Janice knows her doctor better than Cassandra knows her plastic surgeon!”

Women gasped and Kathy was momentarily caught off guard as she noticed Cassandra’s presence.

The warmth Cassandra exuded toward Nathan froze instantly and she stiffened bolt upright.  She was not supposed to hear the remark and she probably would not have responded to it normally.  However, there were too many people watching for her to politely duck behind Marvin, not to mention that she wasn’t standing by her husband.  She was standing next to Nathan.

“I… I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about, Kathy.  I have never seen a plastic surgeon,” she replied in a pressured tone, her fine brows raised in perplexity.

“Oh come on!  There’s no way you haven’t had some kind of cosmetic work done!  If you don’t see a plastic surgeon then you’ve got one hell of a good dermatologist!” Kathy continued brazenly, pushing her husband’s shushing hand away.

Marvin spoke up.

“As a matter of fact, Kathy, Cassandra doesn’t believe in doctors.  I’ve been trying to convince her to go to one for years to get a physical done, but she won’t go!” he said, trying to defuse the conversation with a laugh.

“I have always done well with more traditional practices.  There are ways to preserve your health that western medicine will never discover through science,” Cassandra explained serenely, slipping her hands into her coat pockets.

“Whatever floats your boat, honey,” Kathy smirked.

“She must be doing something right, Kathy, to look as young as she does at her age!  My eleven year old granddaughter was grossed out last year because she thought Marvin was kissing his daughter on the lips at the company picnic!” Linda blabbed raucously.

The off-color remark was punctuated by an uneasy silence.  The party grew so quiet that the distant laughter of children in the corn field was the only sound to be heard for a moment. 

Cassandra did not acknowledge Linda with even the slightest glance, nor did she shy away.  She remained dignified as a queen as everyone looked to see what her response would be.  Her lips parted, but she had no need to speak for herself.  

Nathan spoke up for her.  

Kathy and Linda insulting her angered him and he could not be silent about it.

“And my girlfriend asked me why your husband brought his mother instead of his wife, Linda!” he piped up in Cassandra’s defense.

The words blurted from his mouth before he had time to reconsider.  

There was a low ripple of laughter.  Women covered their mouths and guys turned their heads away, wincing.  Ryan snorted and about choked on a mouthful of beer. 

Linda shot daggers at Nathan with her beady eyes.  Her husband was a meek fellow slouching at the picnic table beside her with a pot belly and a comb-over.  He scowled at Nathan over his bifocals, but said nothing.  

“Why don’t you all quit picking on Mrs. Harper and just worry about yourselves?” Nathan continued, directing his comment at the clique in general.  

“And why don’t you keep your mouth shut, Nathan!” Kathy lashed out at him.

“Nobody was talking about you!”

He was ready to respond with equal venom when Cassandra’s smooth leather fingers brushed the back of his hand to silence him.  

Her eyes flickered away from him to give her husband an imperative look with her lips pursed.  Marvin nodded with a somewhat tired expression and rose from his seat.

“Alright folks!  Tone it down.  Let’s not spoil a pleasant evening,” he boomed, barely glancing at Nathan before addressing the secretaries directly.

“My wife might come to more parties if you girls weren’t so damned ornery!”

Barb jumped from her seat and stepped in front of Linda and Kathy.

“You know the girls get sassy when they are having fun, Mr. Harper!” she simpered, folding her hands in front of her in a supplicating manner.

“Cassandra has always been part of our work family!  We wouldn’t sass her if we didn’t love her!” 

Nathan wanted to tell Barb she was full of shit, but he managed to hold his tongue.  

“Well, my wife doesn’t like being sassed and she certainly does not appreciate your disrespectful tone,” Marvin said authoritatively.

“But, Mr. Harper.  You know everyone wonders how Cassandra keeps herself looking so young,” Barb smirked. 

“We’re just curious what her secret is!”

Nathan heard Cassandra’s leather coat creak tensely as she inhaled a sharp breath.

“Well, she and I would both thank you to mind your own business!” Marvin reproached sternly. 

“And I’ll see you girls in my office when I get back from my trip.”

“But, Mr. Harper,” Barb protested.

“That’s all we’re going to say about it for now,” he interrupted, dismissing them with a commanding wave of his hand.

Barb looked like an oversized, bratty girl getting scolded.  The bow in her hair fell crooked as she ducked her head.  The humiliation on Kathy and Linda’s faces was priceless and amplified by the foolish costumes they were wearing.  Nathan had never seen a sadder scarecrow or clown.

“Yes, Mr. Harper,” the three of them stammered almost in unison.  

Cassandra stood rigid, head held high with a vindicated expression.  She pulled the cuff of her white blouse back with a leather fingertip to look at a delicate gold watch on her left wrist. 

  

“Marvin, dear.  It is nearly quarter past five.  Should we not be leaving?” she asked rhetorically, cutting off Kathy and Linda as the two women began to stammer apologies.

Marvin checked his own watch.

“Holy Mackerel!  I guess I’ve been enjoying myself so much I didn’t realize what time it was!  We’ve got to get going!” he exclaimed.

Jeff and Nancy practically leaped from their seats as the uncomfortable scene passed.  Jeff offered his hand to Marvin.  Nancy drew Cassandra away with a friendly embrace and kind words.  

Barb pulled Kathy and Linda aside quickly to do damage control.  Several people stood up and relocated to their family or friends.  

“Dude!  That was awesome!” Ryan guffawed in Nathan’s ear.

“They just got burned!”

Nathan did not share Ryan’s mischievous point of view and ignored him.  Ryan was almost as annoying to Nathan as the secretaries.  They all had disrupted every chance he had to talk to Cassandra, and now she had to leave!  

Nathan was so frustrated he could hardly see straight!

Miraculously, Cassandra did not simply vanish with Marvin as he feared she might.  Much to his amazement, once she finished saying goodbye to Nancy she sought him out again amid the commotion!

“Nathaniel,” her voice addressed him softly. 

His disappointment instantly subsided as she placed her hand on his arm.

“Thank you for taking my part.  You did not need to do that,” she said in a low, sweet tone.

“They were out of line insulting you, Mrs. Harper,” he replied.

“I couldn’t help it.  I had to speak up.”

“Well, thank you.  It was very gallant of you and I am grateful,” she continued.

“Cassandra!  We best get a move on!” Marvin’s voice called behind her.

The collar of her coat flapped against her chin as she glanced back.  

“You better get going, Mrs. Harper.  I really enjoyed talking with you.  It's a shame you have to go so soon,” he admitted.

“Yes,” she sighed.

“I feel that you and I have much more to share with one another.”

“Maybe we can chat some more at the Christmas party?” he suggested optimistically.

“Oh.  I will not be at the Christmas party.  But, I think, perhaps, we may have an opportunity to speak before then,” she predicted.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She turned to face him directly.  The curved brim of her hat and the splayed collar of her coat framed her placid, porcelain visage indelibly in sleek black leather.  Her mesmerizing green eyes arrested his attention, virtually exploding into his mind.  An exquisitely fine lacework of turquoise radiated through her brilliant emerald irises, highlighted with golden shades of amber around her pupils.  

“I shall have need of you shortly, Nathaniel,” she intoned.

All other sound around him faded into silence except for her siren voice.

“I will call for you.  If you come for me you may be the man I have been waiting for these many years.”  

She paused dramatically.

“If you do not respond to me, then I shall know you are not my Nathaniel.”

The mystifying words that flowed from her mouth registered to him seemingly at a subconscious level.  Her succulent red lips articulated soft, lovely shapes about her white teeth.  Glistening, hair-like tendrils of saliva spanned from her liquid, pink tongue to her palate. 

“Please,” she implored softly.  

“Do not leave me waiting any longer.”

Then she batted her thick eyelashes at him and the background noise of the party invaded his ears once more.  He flinched and shook his head as if snapping out of a trance. 

“Wait.  Did you say you’re going to call me, Mrs. Harper?” he sputtered.

Did he hear her right?  The idea of Cassandra calling him on the phone took him completely by surprise.  He was pretty sure that was what she just said to him, though.

She did not answer his question.

Her face disappeared behind a wave of burnished hair and the brim of her leather hat.  Shiny black leather rippled across her back as she turned and took her husband’s waiting hand.

“Take care, Nathan,” Marvin told him with a wink and wave.

Marvin bid boisterous farewells to everyone as they crossed the yard.

Cassandra never looked back at him.  She graciously thanked Jeff for hosting the party and politely ignored the clique as they feebly offered insincere apologies to her.  She clung to Marvin’s arm with her right hand and kept her left hand stuffed deep in her pocket.  She barely acknowledged anyone else, ducking her face inside the collar of her coat.

A gnawing pit of disappointment and frustration ached in Nathan’s stomach as he watched her lovely figure disappear around the corner of the house.  

He was already anxious to see her again, but who could say when that would happen?  He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to come to the Christmas party.  She didn’t fit in with his coworkers very well in the first place.  Would she ever attend a company function again after the clique embarrassed her in front of the everyone?   

One thing was for sure; the party was over for Nathan now that Cassandra was gone.

He really had no desire to talk to anyone else.  He had shown his kit to everyone who was interested in it and his armor suddenly felt heavy on him.  The straps of his cuirass dug into his shoulders and his neck muscles were tired of supporting the extra weight of his helmet.  

The sun was setting and it was starting to get cooler.  The sour note of Marvin and Cassandra’s departure dampened the overall mood of the party.  Jeff and Nancy busied themselves tidying up the food table.  Conversations grew quiet and people stirred restlessly.  Mothers called their children as if preparing to leave.

When comments began to fly from the clique Nathan knew it was definitely time for him to go.  He took one last swig of his beer before dumping the rest out.  He picked up his helmet and started toward the house.  

“So, Marvin wants to see us in his office?” Kathy snorted. 

“What is that all about?  Are we in high school again?”

“Apparently Cassandra is so dainty that her husband has to defend her,” Linda ridiculed.

“What would she do if she had to stand up for herself?”

There was no way for Nathan to avoid them as he crossed the yard and they were purposely speaking loud enough for him to hear.

“It’s called being a lady,” he interjected as he passed by.

“Mrs. Harper doesn’t degrade herself by making rude comments about people.”

The three of them pounced on him, bristling like grumpy old sows.  

“That’s right girls.  She doesn’t need to defend herself.  Not only is she the boss’s wife, but now she’s got a swashbuckler to dash to her rescue!” Kathy snapped sarcastically.

“Yeah!  Why are you kissing her skinny little ass all the sudden, Nathan?” Linda demanded scornfully.

“Are you so desperate to meet a girl who likes your weird history crap that you will hang out with a married woman twice your age?”

“I didn’t know she liked history until this afternoon.  But, to be honest, I’d sure as hell rather hang out with Mrs. Harper than any of you!” he replied.

“I think you are just sucking up!  You were all but licking her boots the whole time she was here!” Kathy accused him.

“Well, at least I wasn’t feeding her a line of crap like you were, Barb!  That was the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard; saying that you ‘love’ her!  I give Mr. Harper credit for calling you on it!” he fired back.

“You three are always bad mouthing Mrs. Harper and he knows it.  I hope he fires all of you when he gets back!”

“He wouldn’t dare!” Kathy snarled.

“If he fires me because of that botoxed hag I’ll take him to court!” Linda fumed.  

“Calm down girls.  Marvin is not going to fire anyone.  I know how to handle him,” Barb chimed in complacently with her hands raised.

“It’s not our fault that Cassandra is such a stick in the mud.  After all, we did nothing but compliment how young she looks.”

Kathy and Linda smirked in agreement with her.

“In fact, the only nasty remark I heard was the one Nathan made about Linda, and I think he owes her an apology,” Barb commented to her cronies. 

“Yeah right!” he exclaimed.

“I’m not apologizing to any of you two-faced bitches!”

Jeff inserted himself between Nathan and the secretaries, still costumed as the green-faced Frankenstein monster.  

“Folks!  If you are going to keep arguing then please step aside so the other guests don’t have to listen to you,” he requested sternly.

“Sorry, Jeff.  I was actually heading out,” Nathan apologized.

“But, they caught me.”

“Tell him to stop popping off with his smart mouth, Jeff!” Kathy fumed.

“You’re leaving already?” Jeff asked Nathan, ignoring her.

“Yeah.  Thanks for having me over.  You and Nancy put a lot of work into this party and it was a lot of fun,” Nathan said, taking advantage of the diversion to step away from the secretaries and continue across the yard.

“We were glad to have you,” Jeff answered, patting him on the shoulder as he followed him.  

“I hope certain people didn’t spoil it for you,” Nathan added, flickering his eyes toward the clique.

“Listen Nathan.  I don’t know what those three have against Cassandra,” Jeff confided to him quietly.

“I agree with you that they are out of line, but it’s not your problem and this is not the time or place to deal with it.  I’m sure Marvin will handle them appropriately when he gets back.”

“You’re right, Jeff,” Nathan nodded.

“Thanks again!”

They exchanged a firm handshake before Nathan continued on his away.

“See you Monday!” Jeff called to him in farewell.

Nathan plunked his helmet on his head and stalked out of the backyard without another word to anybody.

“Before anyone else leaves we need to announce the winners of the costume contest!” Nancy cried out with desperate enthusiasm behind him.

Nathan made his way around the house and across a paved lot.  His boots crunched on gravel as he plodded down the long driveway.  Most of the party guests were parked in the grass on either side.  His Honda Accord was about fifty yards out on the right.

He heard voices as he reached his car.  Looking in the direction they came from he was surprised to see Marvin and Cassandra!  They had not left yet! 

They were standing in the grass behind a Black Raven Cadillac parked a short distance further out on the same side of the driveway.  The polished, new Cadillac must have been Cassandra’s car.  Marvin usually drove a red Mercedes-Benz convertible to the office.

Nathan opened his car door, bent down, and popped the latch to the trunk.  Lifting the trunk lid, he placed his leather mug to one side.  He removed his helmet and sat it inside as well.  He unbuckled his sword, carefully stowed it, and then loosened the straps of his cuirass.

Cassandra had already taken off her witch hat and her back was to him.  Marvin faced toward Nathan, but did not notice him.  With his helmet off Nathan could hear them talking.  He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on them, but their voices were clearly audible.

He lifted his breastplate off, loaded it into the trunk, and began undoing the laces on the front of his buff coat.

Nathan wouldn’t be surprised if Cassandra was complaining about the comments Kathy and Linda made about her, but it did not sound like they were talking about the party at all. 

They were arguing about something else.

“How could you forget something that important?” Cassandra scolded Marvin.

“I laid it right there on my desk to remind myself and walked out the door without it!  I’m sorry dear!  I guess I’m just getting forgetful in my old age!” Marvin chuckled with chagrin.

“Apparently so.  But, how am I supposed to get home?” Cassandra asked in a unhappy tone.

“I don’t know.  I guess you are just going to have to drive yourself and then pick me up at the airport when I get back!” Marvin answered.

“Marvin!  You know that is out of the question!” Cassandra protested emphatically, holding her hands up in front of her.

Marvin sighed with aggravation and scratched the back of his head.

“You could take a cab home I guess,” he suggested.

“But the fare will be expensive.”

“I refuse to pay a taxi some outrageous amount of money just to be driven to my own house!  Oh, Marvin!  What are we going to do?” Cassandra fretted.

“I don’t know.  All I know is I have to take that damn file with me and it wouldn’t be a problem if you could just drop me off at the airport and drive the car home, Cassandra!” he blustered.

“Don’t get angry at me!  It is not my fault you forgot something!  You know I never drive on the expressway or in the city!” she retorted.

“What if I got lost or had an accident after you were at the airport?  Then what would I do?  Who would help me?”

Nathan usually kept to himself.  He wouldn’t refuse to help someone if put on the spot, but he generally didn’t go out of his way to be a hero.  If he overheard the same scenario involving anyone else in the office he would undoubtedly just duck his head and go about his own business. 

The present situation was completely different for one specific reason; it was Cassandra who needed help.  He didn’t know why, but he could not ignore her plight.  

“Help me!” her plea echoed over and over again in his mind.  She didn’t even know he was there, but the distress in her voice beckoned him in a way he could not explain.  Somehow he felt as if it was his duty to rescue her.

He pulled his buff coat off and tossed it in the trunk.  He quickly unbuttoned his thick wool doublet and stripped down to nothing more than the baggy white linen shirt which was damp with sweat tucked inside his breeches.  He was a bit overheated and the chilly evening air felt refreshingly brisk now that he had doffed the occlusive layers of steel, leather, and wool.

He closed the trunk of his car quietly and gazed over at Cassandra.  Marvin was pacing in front of her with frustration.  Her fiery red hair blazed and the back of her sleek leather coat gleamed in the evening light.  Nathan would have to be blind to resist such a resplendent lady.

She was an irresistible beacon.  His feet propelled him silently through the grass toward her before his brain consciously decided to do so.  

Marvin was so distracted by their predicament that he was startled when Nathan appeared beside Cassandra.

“Do you need help, Mrs. Harper?” he inquired politely, announcing his intrusion. 

Cassandra turned toward him calmly even as the words came from his mouth.  A placid smile curved the corners of her crimson lips above the pointed collar of her coat and her emerald eyes sparkled.  She did not appear at all surprised to see him.

“Aww, we’re in a bit of a pickle Nathan,” Marvin chuckled sheepishly before his wife could speak.

“How so?” Nathan asked.

“Well, I planned on dropping Cassandra off at the house on my way to the airport, but I just realized that I need to get a file from the office to take with me.  If I take Cassandra home and drive all the way to the office before heading for the airport I might miss my flight!” Marvin explained.

“I could drive Mrs. Harper home,” Nathan offered without a moment’s hesitation.

“If it would help out.”

“Oh!” Cassandra gasped, placing a hand upon her breast.

“That’s mighty generous of you Nathan, but we live completely on the other side of town.  You would be going a bit out of your way,” Marvin warned him.

Cassandra’s brow lifted with dismay at her husband’s remark.

“It’s no big deal, Mr. Harper.  I don’t have any plans for the rest of the evening.  It doesn’t really matter when I get home,” Nathan shrugged.

Marvin grinned at his answer.

“What do you say, dear?  Do you mind riding home with Nathan?” he posed to his wife.

Cassandra beamed and clasped her hands together before her.

“I might have been reluctant to ride with a stranger before tonight.  But, now that we are better acquainted, I would be delighted to accept Nathaniel’s generous offer!” she answered.

“Well, then I guess it’s settled.  You’re a good man Nathan.  I owe you one,” Marvin told him, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Yes.  Such a gentleman!” Cassandra concurred. 

Nathan ducked his head modestly.

“Remind me when I get back and I’ll have Janice cut a check to pay for your gas,” Marvin said.

“That’s not really necessary, sir,” Nathan assured him.

There was a pause. 

Marvin turned to Cassandra. 

She crossed her arms with a sigh, cocking her eyebrows and pursing her lips at him.  It was an endearing look of affectionate reproval that Marvin was undoubtedly very familiar with.

“Well dear, this isn’t what we had planned, but at least you have a way home now,” he shrugged.  

“It’s a good thing you suggested I load my luggage in the car earlier!  I swear you are clairvoyant sometimes!”

“I am simply prudent,” Cassandra replied, winking at Nathan.

“I always prepare for the future.”

“Well, I guess I’m ready to go!  I better get a move on if I’m going to make to the office and get to the airport on time!” Marvin said.

“I still do not understand why you must be the one to go Marvin!  You know it makes me nervous when you are so far away!  You need to start sending Jeff or one of those young salesman on these overseas trips.  You are getting too old to be flying to Europe.  What if something happened to you over there?” she fretted, clasping her gloved hands in front of her waist tightly.

“Don’t worry.  I’ll be fine,” Marvin assured her, stepping closer.

“Promise that you will call me when you get to the hotel,” she added softly.

“I always do darling,” he grinned.

Marvin caught his wife up with one hand.  His fingertips dimpled into her plush leather coat, tracing shiny white ripples across the middle of her back.  Cassandra’s thick, lustrous hair spilled over her shoulders as she tipped her head upward, her prominent bosom thrust forward, and her flat abdomen sucked in.  The long skirt of her coat flowed behind her as she trailed one foot somewhat glamorously on the toe of her boot. 

Marvin was a head taller than Cassandra and quite massive in comparison to her slender frame.  Age imparted a distinguished aspect to him.  His hair was gray, but there was nothing feeble about him.  With his rangy, athletic build Nathan suspected that Marvin was still a virile partner to his desirable wife. 

Cassandra wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist and gazed upward into his eyes tenderly.  Her breasts pressed against Marvin’s belly.  He leaned forward as she puckered her plump red lips.  They kissed discreetly, but lovingly for a long moment.   

Nathan politely stepped away to give them some privacy as they exchanged quiet farewells. 

Marvin and Cassandra were good, respectable people.  He was a hard-working husband and she was a caring wife.  They were obviously still in love after twenty years of marriage and Nathan thought that was really cool.  He could only hope to accomplish such happiness in the future. 

Nathan would never begrudge Marvin for being rich or owning his own company, but he couldn’t help envying the man a little for being with Cassandra.  To touch her sleek figure, to feel her svelte body against his, or to kiss her soft lips were tantalizing ecstasies Nathan could only dream of.  He could scarcely hope to ever meet a woman as perfect as Cassandra and for a few seconds he felt rather bitter about it. 

It was wrong to covet another man’s wife, but Nathan wondered if Marvin truly appreciated how lucky he was to be holding Cassandra in his arms.

She pushed away from Marvin with her small gloved hands on his chest. 

“Did you remember to pack your blood pressure medicine?” she asked.

“Yes dear.  I’ll be fine,” he told her. 

He stroked her supple leather arms and stole another quick smooch before turning toward his car.  She slid her hands into her coat pockets as he stepped away. 

Cassandra’s leather witch hat was sitting on the trunk of the Cadillac.  Marvin picked it up and held it out to her.

“Here sweetheart!  You better take this,” he said.

“If I leave this hat sitting in my car people are going to wonder if I flew away in a plane or on a broom!”

He burst out laughing at his own joke.

Nathan grinned at the clever remark.

“Oh, Marvin!  You are such a card!” Cassandra exclaimed priggishly.

She took the hat in her right hand and held it by the brim against her thigh as she walked over to where Nathan stood.

“Goodbye dear!” she called to Marvin sweetly.  

“Bye!  And watch out for that cavalier!  He’s going to try and ride off with you into the night!” Marvin laughed as he opened the car door. 

“Don’t worry Mr. Harper!  I’ll take good care of her for you!” Nathan called.

Marvin continued to laugh as his door thumped shut.  The engine of the Cadillac hummed to life.  Gravel crunched under the tires as he slowly backed onto the driveway.

“I will worry about him until he is safely home with me once more,” Cassandra said as if speaking to herself aloud. 

“If anything were to happen to him now... I do not know what I would do.”

Marvin’s hand waved visibly in the rear window.  They waved at him as he drove away.

“I’m sure he will be fine, Mrs. Harper,” Nathan reassured her.

“Of course,” she sighed with a resigned expression.