Chapter Two
“Oh… God. Not that.”
Maryann sighed sharply. “I am afraid it is that.”
Furious, John pushed past her but then he came to an abrupt halt. “Where?”
“In the great hall.”
“Did you not try to stop her?”
John took off at a fast walk again and his wife scurried after him. “Of course I tried to stop her,” she said. “But you know who is in the audience this day and she wanted to perform for him.”
They were shooting out of the keep entry, moving down the stairs to the inner ward entirely too quickly, but time was of the essence.
“Not Spring,” John groaned. “How could Wynnie let her?”
“I told you,” Maryann said as she rushed after him. “Because Lord de Luci is our guest and Wynnie knows that Spring wishes to attract the man, so she let her sister perform the part of Salome.”
John let out a grunt of frustration, throwing his hands up in the air. “The girl cannot dance,” he seethed. “I have seen her; she tries to look graceful and ends up looking as if she is having fits. She twists and moves as if she has bugs crawling all over her and is trying to shake them off.”
“I know.”
“Besides… we do not want de Luci for her.”
“I know.”
“We want him for Wynnie!”
“I know!” Maryann caught up to him. “That is why she let Spring do the Dance of Veils – she does not want de Luci’s attention.”
John was quickly growing furious as he sighted the great hall straight ahead. “Then she planned this.”
“She did.”
It was John’s worst nightmare. Tradition dictated that the eldest daughter of a family must be married before her sisters could entertain suitors and at twenty-two years, Wynter was very nearly an old maid with three more old maids backed up behind her.
John had been trying to lure the quiet, awkward, but enormously powerful Lord de Luci to Wynter for the past year and although the man was interested, he needed the slightest bit of acknowledgement from his target, who wouldn’t give him any.
Wynter had made her apathy clear.
It wasn’t exactly apathy, but more like polite disinterest. Sir Brian de Luci, Baron Tynedale of Langley Castle, wasn’t unhandsome at all.
He was big and strong, with shaggy blond hair, and socially awkward, which made courting a woman extremely challenging.
He thought Wynter de Thorington to be quite fetching, a woman far out of his grasp as he’d told others, but her father was very keen on a match.
Hence, Lord de Luci was a frequent visitor at Ashleven.
A marriage between Brian and Wynter would join two substantial dynasties – Tynedale and Ashington.
It would see Brian become the next Earl of Ashington and there were few finer candidates in England for that role.
Brian was attracted to the earldom but he was more attracted to the pale-skinned beauty with the dark red hair, a woman who had the eye of nearly every unmarried man in Northumberland and a few of the married ones, as well.
She would smile politely at him and listen attentively when he spoke, but that seemed to be as far as it went.
Her sister, on the other hand…
Spring wanted to marry the man so badly that she could almost taste it.
She was desperate to marry any man at all but given her older sister’s reluctance to wed, she was stuck.
She was marking time for a marriage that had better come sooner rather than later or she was going to do something drastic.
Like dancing when she had no business doing so.
Even as John and Maryann rushed into the hall to prevent desperate Spring from making a fool of herself, they could see that they were too late.
Spring’s Dance of Veils was something quite horrific to behold and as they watched, they could see that she was dumping the veils on de Luci’s head.
It was supposed to be seductive but she couldn’t quite pull it off.
Behind her, Wynter was sitting upon a chair in full costume, complete with a scratchy woolen beard and a crown made from wood.
She was evidently Herod watching Salome do her dance, with charcoal around her eyes and looking entirely garish.
John knew he had to put a stop to it.
Clapping his hands, he broke up the last of Spring’s dance as he approached his daughters at the end of the hall.
Autumn and Summer were there, as well. All of the sisters were participating one way or another with the captive audience of de Luci and his men.
When de Luci saw John approaching, he bolted to his feet with veils still hanging off his head.
“My lord,” he said, looking more awkward than usual. “I… I apologize for not greeting you when I arrived, but your daughters informed me that I was to attend a performance in my honor and I could not deny them. It would have been quite rude to do so.”
John tried very hard not to let his rage show. “I can only apologize that they forced you into this situation, Lord Tynedale,” he said. “This is not the first time they have done this and you must accept my apologies. Please go with my lady wife and I shall attend you shortly.”
De Luci nodded his head as a veil fell off and he grabbed at the rest of them, depositing them on the table as he quickly moved to Maryann, who graciously escorted him and his men from the hall.
That left John with Wynter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn as they picked up after their performance.
Wynter was just pulling off the rough beard when John fixed on her.
“You,” he hissed. “How dare you embarrass me like this. I have told you repeatedly to leave our guests alone when they arrive but, instead, you force them to view these… these terrible performances.”
Wynter’s brow furrowed. “But, Papa, we…”
“Silence!” he barked, waving his hand at her.
“I will not have you shaming the House of de Thorington any longer, Wynter. Do you understand me? No more performances. No more dressing as Herod or Christ or Methuselah, or whomever you are at this moment. You look like a fool and worse still, you have made your sister look the fool in front of a trusted ally. Spring has no business dancing in front of anyone who is not her husband. It is shameful!”
By this time, Autumn and Summer were starting to tear up as Wynter looked offended and Spring appeared outraged.
“I did not look the fool!” Spring insisted. “It was the Dance of Veils, Papa. It is artistic.”
“It is disgraceful,” John said, turning on her. “You look as if you are having convulsions when you dance, girl. You have no sense of grace whatsoever and Wynter knows this, which is why she allows you to do it. You allow her to make you a laughingstock!”
Spring’s mouth popped open but before she could defend herself, she burst into tears and ran off. Summer and Autumn went after her, leaving Wynter alone with her father. As they listened to Spring’s sobs fade away, Wynter sighed heavily.
“That was cruel,” she said, her voice low. “You did not have to say such things to her.”
John grunted. “Mayhap now she will no longer do your bidding when it comes to your stupid performances,” he said. “I mean what I say, Wynter – cease these entertainments because they are not entertainments at all. You are too old to be doing such things. You are a grown woman now – act like it.”
Wynter could see that her father was genuinely angry, which only served to inflame her. She’d never been very good at being subservient or bowing to his wishes, unfortunately for him.
She was a woman with a mind of her own and she used it. Frequently.
“And how am I supposed to act?” she said, greatly annoyed. “What would you have me do, Father? Fawn over de Luci and pay him empty compliments so you can have your dynasty secured? That is all you are using me for, isn’t it? To secure the next Earl of Ashington?”
John paused in his angry posturing. “That’s unfair and you know it.”
“Is it?” she fired back. “If you are going to become angry at me for doing something that I have been doing since I was a small girl, then at least be honest about it. This has nothing to do with my performances and everything to do with the fact that you are trying to secure the next Earl of Ashington and using me for bait.”
John looked at her incredulously. “Where do you get these horrific ideas?” he said. “You are the heiress to Ashington. The man you marry will become the next earl. How is that using you for bait, Wynter? It is what you were born to do.”
Wynter knew that. She’d always known it and nothing her father expected of her was outlandish. It wasn’t as if she could argue the point with him. Yanking the wig made from horsehair off her head, she plopped down in the nearest chair.
“It is all so unfair,” she said, averting her gaze. “I did not ask for this burden.”
John could see she was calming, which caused him to calm as well. Wynter wasn’t unreasonable. In fact, she was the most levelheaded child he had. But she was headstrong to a frustrating degree and he had to break through that stubbornness.
“I know,” he said. “But it is yours, nonetheless. You must marry and I must find a worthy man for both you and the earldom. Is that so hard to understand?”
Wynter simply shook her head, refusing to speak. In truth, there wasn’t much she could say to that but there was also a sense of gloom about her and John tried not to let it sink too low.
“I am sorry I said your entertainments were stupid,” he said quietly. “You are a clever and gifted woman. But you know as well as I do that Spring should not be dancing and most especially not in front of an unmarried man.”
Wynter was still looking away from him, suddenly letting out what he thought was a sob. Peering closer, he could see that she was laughing. When she caught his expression, she sat back in her chair and let the laughter come.
“I swear to you, I cannot stop her,” she said. “She insists on doing it and she looks like a chicken that someone has set fire to, arms waving and neck bobbing in panic. It is like she cannot control her limbs.”