Chapter Ten #3
“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 reasoning. “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 the 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 waited 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 from 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.