An Uncertain Choice

Sir Derrick slowly turned to look at me, his gaze immediately spanning the distance, crashing into mine and taking my breath away. One of his brows lifted, as if questioning the truth of whatever the duke had whispered to him.

I rapidly dropped my gaze and pretended to focus on Sir Collin. But Sir Collin had grown quiet. Behind him, Sir Bennet’s brows had come together into a scowl. At first I thought they’d witnessed the duke’s interaction with Sir Derrick, but then I realized they were too busy glaring at each other to notice anything else.

The music for the next dance began, and this time the tune was slower. I smiled at Sir Collin and Sir Bennet as brightly as I could. “We have plenty of dances left.”

But neither returned my smile. Their usual lightheartedness had dissipated. Instead their features were taut, their bodies tense.

“You’re not being fair,” Sir Bennet ground out between his teeth.

“You know as well as I do there can only be one winner to the contest,” Sir Collin replied lightly, although his eyes were hard.

Sir Bennet took a step toward Sir Collin and placed a hand on his shoulder — ?the injured shoulder.

Sir Collin winced but shoved Sir Bennet’s chest.

Sir Bennet squeezed Sir Collin’s shoulder before letting go, a warning in his eyes. “Play by the rules.”

Sir Collin’s grip on my waist didn’t lessen. “I didn’t know we had any rules.” With that, he smiled and spun away from Sir Bennet. But before he had the chance to complete the rotation, he bumped into Sir Derrick.

Sir Derrick ignored Sir Collin and Sir Bennet. Instead, he looked at me and said nothing, as though he were waiting for my acknowledgement. The other two knights would have flattered me to put me at ease. But he was different, somehow bolder and requiring boldness of me at the same time.

My heartbeat tripped like a bumbling dancer. I didn’t know what to say, especially in front of the other two men. I could only offer Sir Derrick a tentative smile and hope that he could read the welcome in my eyes.

As if seeing what he wanted in my unspoken message, he offered Sir Collin an apologetic nod. “I hope you’ll forgive me for cutting in on you, my friend. But I couldn’t let the evening pass without claiming at least one dance with Lady Rosemarie.”

Sir Collin gave a short laugh and nodded toward Sir Bennet, whose scowl had darkened. “I suggest getting in line.” He started to pull away from the two, but Sir Derrick’s thick arm shot out and blocked his friend.

The steel in Sir Derrick’s eyes was suddenly sharp. “Why don’t we leave it up to Lady Rosemarie to pick which of the three of us she wants to dance with next?”

I could feel Sir Collin stiffen at the challenge. I certainly didn’t want to hurt any of their feelings, but I didn’t know how it was possible to choose one of them without creating more tension.

“If she chooses you,” Sir Derrick continued, “then Bennet and I will bow out of your way and won’t offer a word of protest for the rest of the night.”

Would Sir Derrick relinquish me that easily? I caught a glimmer in his eyes that was almost taunting, as though he knew I would pick him over the other men.

His overconfidence stirred my ire. I ought to turn my back on him and hold out my hand to Sir Bennet. From the way the young knight had stared at my mouth during a couple of the dances, he was bound to steal a kiss from me before the night was over. Maybe I’d let him do so at a moment when Sir Derrick could witness it.

But as soon as the thought rushed through my mind, I silently chastised myself. I wasn’t planning to give away my first kiss out of spite. But I would show Sir Derrick that I wasn’t pining away after him.

I took a step away from Sir Collin and lifted my chin. “Very well. I shall give Sir Derrick this next dance. I can do nothing less since he finally gathered the courage to ask me.”

I’d questioned Sir Derrick’s courage once before and earned his quick censure. So I wasn’t surprised when his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He brushed past Sir Collin and took his place in front of me. Without waiting for my permission, he placed his hands upon my waist as the dance required.

I sucked in a breath at the contact, at the strength of his fingers, and at the closeness of his body. Then, catching myself, I placed my hands upon his arms and prayed he wouldn’t feel the trembling in my fingers.

For several minutes we danced silently and stiffly about the Great Hall, mingling with the other couples. He kept a proper distance between us, but nevertheless, I felt as though I would be scorched under the heat of his hand at my waist. Part of me whispered that I needed to apologize for insulting his courage. But I couldn’t seem to find the words, and even if I could, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to force them past the constricting bodice of my gown and the tightness of my jeweled necklace.

“You dance well for your first dance.” He finally broke the silence between us.

“Thank you, sir. You dance well too.”