Chapter Five #4
He cocked an eyebrow, aware that she was deliberately attempting to evade his question. “Without a doubt. Unless, of course, the reason why you were lingering about the tents is because you were waiting for your lover to appear.”
She frowned. “Ridiculous. I do not have a lover.”
He sat forward, away from the trunk, resting his arm on a propped knee. “If you give me your favor, there are those who would believe that I am your lover.”
He watched as Summer rose to her feet and fumbled with the sleeve of her gown. Abruptly, a blur of white was dangling from her fingers. It took Bose a moment to realize she was extending a kerchief.
He was on his feet faster than he could ever remember moving. Summer smiled, a bashful, beautiful gesture, as his timid fingers came up to clasp the delicate material.
“’Tis my handkerchief,” she said quietly. “It is all I have at the moment that I may offer as a favor.”
Gently, the kerchief fell from her fingers and into his grasp. His expression laced with wonder and pleasure, he brought the small token to his nose and inhaled deeply.
“God’s Beard,” he groaned before he could stop himself. When Summer’s expression washed with concern, he struggled to explain his reaction. “It… it smells wonderful, my lady. The essence of roses, I believe.”
She nodded, her smile returning with relief. “My b-brother bought me the perfume on a trip to London last year. The merchant told him that it had been Princess Eleanor’s f-favorite fragrance.”
“Princess Eleanor?”
“King John’s daughter, Eleanor, b-before she married Lord Simon de Montfort. Apparently, Lord Simon preferred his wife to wear gardenia and she relinquished her roses to please him.”
He gazed at her a moment, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “The man was a fool. There is surely no finer fragrance.”
She blushed pleasingly; in fact, the faint pink cast had hardly left her cheeks since his appearance.
But her uncertainty was gone, so much so that he felt very comfortable and very bold when he gently took her hand in his massive gauntlet, bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss. He simply could not help himself.
Nor could Summer help the wild surge of excitement that fired through her body.
The only men who had ever kissed her had been her brothers, chaste kisses to her forehead or hand.
But Bose’s kiss, as simple a gesture as it was, spoke of untold passion.
Her heart was thumping painfully against her ribs.
“M-M-My lord,” her stammering was noticeably worse due to her quivering nerves. “T-The hour grows late. I should return to the keep before my b-brothers come looking for me.”
He smiled, feeling her hand trembling against his fingers and experiencing the resurgence of sentiment within his heart that he had once believed deeply buried.
“As you say, my rose lady,” he kissed her hand again.
Collecting Antony into one hand, he tucked her palm firmly into the crook of his elbow.
“I am forced to agree with your suggestion that we return to the keep. I should not want your brothers to find us out in the wilds, alone. Certainly, their punishment would be severe.”
Summer’s knees were shaking so that she could hardly walk, but somehow she managed to follow his lead. “M-My b-brothers are afraid of you,” she said, unable to keep the quiver from her voice. “T-They…t-t-they…”
He smiled, knowing it was his kisses that had affected her speaking manner and enormously pleased with her reaction.
“Slow yourself, my lady,” he said calmly, continuing their casual walking pace purely to maintain a level of normalcy about them.
If she were to notice that he was unconcerned with her stammering, it might ease her embarrassment and help her regain control of herself.
“Relax and take a deep breath. There now, that’s good. One more. Better?”
Summer nodded, maintaining her deep, even breathing; she had been horrified with her worsening condition until she realized Bose wasn’t the least bit concerned. In fact, he was willing to help her through her difficulty. After several moments she looked to Bose with appreciative eyes.
“T-Thank you,” she said softly. Bose swore the small hand about his elbow tightened. “You are very patient.”
He smiled his faint, lop-sided grin. “As I told you, I have experience with your sort.”
She cocked an eyebrow, sensing his jest. “Is that so? And what sort is that?”
His smile broadened and he handed her the ferret. “The right sort, my lady. The right sort,” when she smiled faintly, his free hand closed over the small fingers clutching his elbow. “By the way; you never did tell me what you were doing in the knight’s camp.”
Her smile broadened as she watched the grass pass beneath their feet. “W-Waiting for my lover.”
“You said you did not have a lover.”
Her golden orbs found the silken kerchief, still tucked within the folds of his massive gauntlet. As Antony demanded to be set loose into her hair, she put the animal to her neck and reached out, tugging at the white fabric peeping from beneath Bose’s armored glove.
“I suppose I do now.”
He met her gaze. “I suppose you do.”