Chapter Eleven
The floor was filled with gay revelers by the time Duncan guided Summer onto the smooth stone. The ballad was light and quick and Duncan immediately took her into his arms at a proper distance and began whirling her across the room.
The organized dance had taken her to the far end of the room, well away from the head table.
As the music flowed through the stale air of the packed hall, Summer was startled when Duncan let her go and another body took his place.
Only when a voracious arm went about her improperly did she look up from her feet, coming face to face with small blue eyes and a field of pock-marked skin.
“Greetings, my lady,” Breck sneered into Summer’s surprised expression, his green-tinged teeth emitting a foul odor. “My brother has indicated his fatigue and has graciously allowed me to finish his dance.”
Shocked and disgusted, Summer yanked herself free of Breck’s grasp, bumping into another woman in the process. Though she should have apologized to the well-dressed lady, she could only focus on staying clear of Breck’s lecherous company.
“I-I…,” swallowing hard, she backed away, narrowly avoiding another dancer as Breck advanced. “I am also fatigued. I am sure there is another lady who would b-be happy to dance with you.”
“I do not want to dance with another lady,” Breck insisted seductively. “I want to dance with you. The most beautiful woman in the entire room.”
Summer succeeded in backing out of the group of revelers without further collision, nearly tripping over a chair flanking the crowded floor when she finally directed herself clear.
She was well across the room from her assigned table and well away from those who would protect her from Breck’s advance.
Quickly noting that she was on her own until she could move within sight of the head table, she sought to steady her nerves.
“I do not wish to dance, Sir B-Breck,” she said as firmly as she could manage. “If you will excuse me, Sir B-Bose and my brothers await.”
She moved to evade him but he put out an arm, bracing it against a supporting beam and effectively blocking her escape. Summer wrinkled her nose at the repugnant stench of body odor reeking from the man’s tunic, swallowing the bile in her throat as he smiled lasciviously.
“Sir Bose and your brothers have had the pleasure of your company all eve,” he said. “’Twould be polite of them to share you with your other admirers.”
A glimmer of impatience took hold. “I have no desire to be shared as if I were a c-common tart for the taking,” she said snappishly. “Move your arm and be quick about it.”
He cocked a red brow. “My, my, how unfriendly. Mayhap if you came to know me better, your hostile attitude would ease.”
“I have no desire to know you b-better. Move aside or I’ll call a guard.”
Breck’s first reaction was to flare; disobedience in a woman was intolerable and he banked the impulse to slap her.
Instead, he forced himself to calm for the sheer fact that if he became angry, his goals would most certainly not be accomplished.
Duncan had brought the lady directly into his fold; it was now up to Breck to take advantage of the situation.
“Forgive me if I seem overbearing, my lady,” his manner was calm and sorrowful.
“’Tis just that… well, the moment I saw you this morn in the lodges, I swore I had never seen anything quite so beautiful.
And I suppose my aggressive actions are merely my emotional impulses gaining the better of my self-control.
Truly, I never meant to offend or harm. I would simply like to share a moment of your time.
Women don’t usually take easily to me; I am not a handsome man.
I have had to learn to be aggressive when dealing with women. ”
Summer listened to his speech. He seemed quite sincere and, being a bit na?ve when it came to conniving men, she began to feel somewhat sorry for him.
With a sigh, she eyed him closely; indeed, he was an ugly soul and Summer realized she had judged his character based on his pocked appearance and her brother’s ramblings.
After she had heard the horrid stories how the man had broken Stephan’s wrist last year, it was only natural that she considered Breck Kerry an individual to avoid.
Had she believed her brothers’ tales of Bose’s murderous instincts, she would have never come to know the man with the golden heart and gentle nature. Aye, her brothers had been wrong about Bose. Mayhap they were wrong about Breck, too.
“Very well,” she said quietly. “I am rather thirsty and I suppose we could share a c-conversation as I refresh myself.”
Breck looked pleasantly surprised. Not merely surprised, shocked. Swallowing his astonishment, his arm dropped from Summer’s path.
“I… God’s Blood, I suppose we could sit at my table.
I’ll have a steward fetch wine immediately,” as Summer moved hesitantly in the indicated direction, a brief glimpse of the courtyard beyond the open hall doors captured Breck’s attention and he stopped her, his wickedly clever mind moving into the realm of more private, intimate surroundings. By all means, man, get her alone!
“Wait, my lady,” he grasped her gently by the arm. “It is rather warm in the hall. Mayhap a walk in the night air would refresh you more than a goblet of tepid wine?”
Summer gazed to the yawning entry, the landscape beyond bathed in silver light.
Drinking wine with the man in a room full of guests was one matter, but strolling alone with him in the moonlight was entirely another and her attempt to make amends for her judgmental attitude was fading fast. Even if the man truly possessed a heart of gold beneath his unattractive facade, he was stinky and aggressive and she simply did not like him. In the light or in the dark.
“I think not, my lord,” she said truthfully. “I would share a goblet of wine and t-then return to my table.”
Breck, however, would not be so easily dissuaded.
“Come along, my lady,” he grasped her arm firmly, pulling her toward the portal.
“A walk beneath the stars will do wonders for your fatigue. We could even stroll to the stables and take a look at my charger. My father had him shipped all the way from Italy.”
Summer tried to pull away from him, but his grip was tight. Whether or not she was willing, Breck seemed to be leading her directly for the exit. “I do not like horses, my lord. And I am entirely too exhausted to walk about the courtyard. P-Please, can we sit?”
Breck appeared not to hear her. He continued to drag her across the floor, oblivious to her attempts to break his grip.
His boney fingers were bruising the tender flesh of her upper arm and Summer looked in the direction of the head table in desperation; she could scarcely see the end of it through the crowd, but noting that Bose’s wicked mother-in-law apparently had a bird’s-eye view of her situation. She swore she saw the woman smile.
Summer’s slippers scuffed the stone as Breck pulled her through the opening and into the ghostly light.
In the dusty bailey there were several crews of sentries and Summer’s panic faded somewhat; should there be any true aggression on Breck’s part, all she need do is scream for assistance.
Therefore, she sharply yanked her arm free of the zealous knight’s grasp.
“Unhand me,” she said irritably, straightening her mussed gown. “I told you that I did not wish to walk with you.”
Breck’s face was hauntingly ugly beneath the moonglow. “I…I did not mean to offend. Oft times, ladies say no when in fact they mean the opposite. It is simply a matter of making a firm decision on the lady’s behalf.”
Summer’s expression was lined with annoyance. “When I declined your invitation, I meant it. I w-would return to the hall this instant.”
“But….”
“Now.”
Breck eyed her, laboring to keep his irritation at bay. Defiant women went against the natural course of the universe and it was a struggle not to punish her for her rebellious demand. In lieu of physical retaliation, he settled for mental instead. It was far more painful if done correctly.
“Return you to de Moray?” he asked softly, with bitter amusement. “God’s Blood, I cannot believe your father has allowed the man to pursue you given his reputation and dark history.”
Summer immediately bristled. “I’ll not hear you r-repeat the slanderous lies within my presence, for they are untrue.”
Breck’s expression washed with a good deal of forced pity.
“I have been on the tournament circuit six years, my lady, well before the arrival of Bose de Moray. I have known the man since his appearance and I can only say that I have seen nothing to refute the common hearsay. Suffice it to say that Sir Bose carries a frightening reputation toward man and woman alike.”
Breck’s aggressive actions forgotten, Summer found herself outraged by his accusations. Unwilling to tolerate his slander, her small fists rested angrily on her hips.
“His reputation is the result of his mother-in-law’s demented sense of vengeance and nothing more. Her daughter, B-Bose’s wife, died in childbirth and the woman somehow b-blames him for the incident. He did not kill her, Sir Breck. He loved her.”
Breck’s gaze held even. “So he has told you. What did you expect? Did you truly believe he would tell you the truth of the matter, considering his interest in you?”
Summer’s jaw went slack with fury. “How dare you say such terrible things! Clearly, you d-do not know him at all!”
“I have known him longer than you have,” Breck was enjoying her anger.
“I have seen him in action all of these years, Lady Summer. I have seen his moods and tactics and his interaction with others. Believe me when I say that the Bose de Moray you know is not the true man beneath. Certainly, I am only concerned with your safety.”