Authors: Kathryn Le Veque
Adgar leaned forward, his neatly
groomed beard moving as he chewed. "Even more amazing that he managed to
unseat me without trickery or unfair tactics. The lad caught me off-guard, pure
and simple."
"Duncan is not like his
brother," Bose said quietly, his gaze still riveted to Summer.
"Fortunately, the lad possesses an ounce of compassion and morality. His
older brother would do well to learn from him."
Hand resting on her chin, Summer
listened to the conversation regarding the Kerry brothers with lagging
interest. The other knights about the table had turned back to their ladies and
wine, a peppering of varied conversation traversing the length of the heavy
table. As she focused on a particularly loud knight who had fought quite
brutally in the melee, a servant respectfully approached and whispered in her
ear. Immediately, she stood up, much to Bose's concern.
"Where do you go, my
lady?" he was already on his feet, preparing to escort her.
She smiled, patting his arm
gently. "My father wishes to speak with me. Please sit and enjoy your
wine," when he appeared hesitant, her smile broadened and she put a
reassuring hand against his chest. "He oft grows frantic when Stephan is
absent. He merely wishes to know where my b-brother has gone."
Bose cocked a black eyebrow, not
wanting to let her out of arm’s length. She patted his arm again in a
comforting gesture, excusing herself from the table and moving toward her
lounging father several feet away. Bose watched until she reached the portly,
ruddy man before re-seating himself.
"Good Lord, Bose, she is not
going to run away," Morgan mumbled from his left side, his voice muted as
he took a long sip of wine. "You are acting as if she belongs to
you."
Bose's searing black gaze snapped
to his long-time friend, his normally expressionless face hard. After a moment,
he turned away and drained the contents of his chalice.
"She does."
Morgan was not particularly surprised
to hear his answer. "But you've yet to pledge for her."
"I will."
"When?"
"When you stop asking me a
plethora of foolish questions."
Morgan's lips twitched with a
threatening smile. Bose was never one to act on the spur of the moment, taking
his time in concluding even the smallest decisions. This time, however, Morgan
suspected time would not be on his liege's side. Considering the lady and her
beauty, it was evident from the expressions of the knights throughout the room
that she had an entire army of secret admirers.
"You'd better hurry,"
he said quietly, watching as a serving woman refilled his goblet. "She
shall not remain unclaimed much longer."
The veins on Bose's temples
throbbed. "You are correct in that assessment. Before the night is through,
she will indeed be betrothed. To me."
Morgan looked to him then.
"What of Margot?"
Bose blinked slowly, his black
eyes gazing into the smoky depths of the bustling hall. "What of her? She
has no say in my affairs."
Morgan did not respond for a
moment. They all knew of Margot's attempts to control their liege through the
memory of her dead daughter. And Bose knew it, too. Conceding the fact,
however, was another matter. If the man wanted to pretend that the woman had no
control over his life, then that was his business
"Nonetheless, I suspect this
afternoon will only be a foretaste of her reaction to your second wife,"
Morgan continued after a pause, catching a glimpse of the thin, vicious lady
far down the table. "You cannot allow Summer to live her life at Ravendark
absorbing the insults of a combative old shrew."
Bose sighed faintly. "Summer
will come with me as I travel the circuit. She will never be out of my sight
and she will certainly never be alone with Margot. You worry overmuch."
"And you are not being
realistic. You cannot be with Summer every hour of the day, protecting her from
Margot's venom."
Bose scratched his chin,
increasingly irritated with the conversation and the truth of Morgan's reason.
"Then mayhap I will send Margot to live in London. I'll buy her a manse of
her own where she can live comfortably away from my new wife and me."
"She has a manse in London,
Bose. She hasn't seen it in four years."
"Because it was where Lora
was born and she cannot bear the memories. I'll buy her another."
Morgan sighed, unwilling to
further pursue that line of dialogue. He was so involved in his thoughts that
he was barely aware when Farl nudged Bose from behind, growling something
Morgan couldn’t quite hear. But it took less than a moment for Bose to bolt
from his seat.
Morgan looked to see what had the
man up. Lingering beside Edward's chair, a mere foot or so from a somewhat-wary
Summer, was none other than younger of the Kerry brothers, Duncan himself.
***
"'Tis just a dance, my lady,
truly," Duncan was saying earnestly. "One dance and I shall be
forever grateful for your graciousness."
Summer gazed to the man with the
red-gold hair, by far more handsome than his buck-toothed brother and
infinitely more charming. But she was still reluctant to speak with him,
unfamiliar as she was with his character, and impatiently wait for her father
to send the knight along his way.
Edward, however, seemed quite
content to observe her interaction with the youngest Kerry sibling. Now that
his daughter had established herself as the belle of the feast, it was apparent
that he had been wrong to assume that Summer's flawed speech would somehow
jeopardize the du Bonne name. Edward was coming to see that perhaps there might
be a bidding war for his daughter’s hand. He was pondering the prospect when de
Moray suddenly appeared.
"Be gone, maggot," Bose
snarled. "The lady is in my company this night."
Duncan visibly shrank. Although
he knew this moment would come, still, he endeavored not to appear too
intimidated by the hulking knight.
"I meant no harm, my lord,
truly,” he said. “As far as I have been told, the lady is not betrothed, nor
spoken for, and I was merely attempting to solicit an innocent dance."
Bose glared at the young knight;
although he was a genuinely likable lad as compared with his brother, the fact
mattered naught. Duncan was attempting to vie for Summer's attention and Bose
was unwilling to tolerate the slightest advance from anyone.
"She is my favored lady,
Duncan," Bose's voice was considerably less harsh. "If anyone is to
dance with her this night, it will be me. Though I fault you not for your
interest, there are plenty of young women about to occupy your attention."
Duncan cleared his throat, a
nervous gesture. Breck had sent his brother to solicit a dance from the lady,
knowing his own attempt would be quickly thwarted. Duncan was well liked by his
peers and Breck knew there would be little valid reason to spurn the man's
request for a single dance Lady Summer.
All Duncan had to do was bring
the woman to the floor, whereupon Breck would interrupt their cozy clutch and
continue the dance in his brother's stead. It did not seem to matter that Bose
had been the lady's shadow for the duration of the feast; all that mattered was
that somehow, someway, Breck was able to pull the lady away from her admirer. Duncan
was afraid of what would happen to him if he wasn’t successful.
"I... as I said, I merely
wished to solicit a dance. And as for the lady being your favored...."
"You may have your dance,
young Kerry," Edward's slurred speech was faint but unmistakable.
"Sir Bose is not pledged to my daughter by any means, nor has he
petitioned for my blessing. Take your pleasure with her."
Summer and Bose looked to Edward
with a good deal of shock and dismay.
"Take his p-pleasure with
me?" Summer repeated with disbelief. "What do you mean by that?"
Edward eyed her, his veins
flushed with the power of alcohol. "Just that. You wanted to sample the
real world, Summer, and here it is before you. Sample all of it. With everyone
who shows an interest. Find a man who will have you from the hordes of men
leering at your beauty."
Bose reached out and grabbed her
hand possessively, moving to return her to the table. It was all he could do to
keep from blasting the callous, repulsive baron right between the eyes.
"Come along, love," he
said, struggling to keep his voice calm. "We shall enjoy the rest of the
evening together."
"Sir Bose," Edward`s
tone was suddenly firm. Summer and Bose paused in their trek back to the table,
turning to note that Edward had risen unsteadily to his feet. Beside him,
Duncan appeared most uncomfortable as the tension filling the air gained
strength. "Regardless of your interest in Summer, she is still my daughter
and she will do as I say. If I demand she dance with a man of my approval, then
she will. And you have no say in the matter."
Bose knew his words to be truth.
God help him, he knew the man's words to be correct and his stomach twisted at
the thought of Summer dancing with another; even Duncan Kerry, as harmless as
he was. He tore his hostile gaze away from Edward long enough to look into
Summer's fearful orbs, knowing that it was essential that he keep his manner
calm.
She appeared absolutely terrified
and Bose knew if he showed any measure of rage, she would most likely collapse.
Either that, or openly defy her father as she had earlier in the day, and Bose
had no desire to see her ordered to the vault for another display of
disobedience. Therefore, it was with great misgivings that he forced a smile
and patted her hand gently.
"Go and dance, love,"
he said softly. "Show me how beautifully you can dance and we shall
continue to dance all night, just you and I."
Summer's eyes widened, as if she
hadn't heard him correctly. Then her brows drew together with genuine
puzzlement. "B-But... why do you agree? I do not want to dance with anyone
but you."
He patted her cheek gently,
looking to Duncan with a fading smile. "One dance, Kerry. And not too
close else you will sorely regret your interest this night," practically
thrusting Summer at Duncan, he turned to Edward. "I should like a word
with you, my lord. Immediately."
As Duncan reached out to grasp
Summer by the arm, Edward eyed Bose with disinterest. "Later, mayhap. At
this moment, I'll not have my wine spoiled with menial talk."
Duncan was attempting to pull
Summer with him, but she dug her heels to the ground like a stubborn old mule.
She was intensely interested in the conversation occurring between Bose and her
father and had no intention of leaving at the moment.
She suspected she knew why Bose
was so determined to speak with her father; although Bose had never said a word
regarding a betrothal, from the moment they had met up until the afternoon they
had so recently spent locked within each other's embrace, there had never been
a doubt in her mind that she had found the man to spend the rest of her life
with. From the expression on Bose’s face as he fixed on her father, she
suspected he felt the same.
Edward, however, seemed
uninterested in Bose's solicitation and repeatedly evaded the man's polite
requests with a myriad of weak excuses. Summer grew increasingly frustrated as
her father seemed intent to ignore her potential husband, frowning at Duncan
when he continued his weak attempts to pull her toward the center of the
writhing hall. Just as the tugging between her and Duncan appeared to be on the
increase, a large body suddenly materialized at Summer's side.
Ian's face was grim, his focus on
Bose and his drunken father. "Go with Duncan, love. I'll... I'll convince
father to listen to your beau."
Summer's expression washed with
relief and thanks. "Oh, Ian, would you p-please? Father is being most
unreasonable and...."
"I know," Ian patted
her shoulder, giving her a slight push in Duncan's direction. "Go and
dance. I shall attempt to alter our father's attitude."
Summer continued to gaze at her
middle brother, a strong, somewhat calm and even tempered man with a vicious
sense of humor. He would have been a stunning and astute eldest brother had
Stephan never existed; nonetheless, Summer considered herself extremely lucky
to have two such devoted siblings. Three, actually; Lance was rather perceptive
and intelligent when he wasn't wearing a pig mask.
"I thought you were unsure
of Sir B-Bose's character and motives?" she murmured quietly, ignoring
Duncan's gentle tow on her arm. "Moreover, why would you defend the man
who will defeat you in the joust come the morrow, with my insistence no
less?"
Ian's blue eyes moved to his
sister briefly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "He will defeat me with
or without your insistence," he pinched her lightly on the cheek, his
focus returning to his obstinate father and the massive man attempting to
engage him in conversation. "Now, if you will excuse me, I shall endeavor
to aid your lover."
Ian moved away, but not before
Summer reached out to grasp his arm gently. Duncan Kerry all but forgotten, her
golden eyes glowed at her devoted brother.