An Uncertain Choice

The words were as stiff as our movements. We might have been marionettes held by a puppeteer’s strings.

I had wished to dance with him, to be near him. And now that I was, I was ruining the moment with my silly pride. I struggled to find a way to bring about a peace between us.

He finally sighed, his warm breath caressing my forehead. “My lady,” he started, his voice soft, almost apologetic.

I couldn’t resist glancing up into his eyes. The candlelight that shimmered from the wall sconces reflected warmly there. I could see that he was making a noble effort at a truce.

Relief sifted through me and relaxed my muscles.

“I’m glad you chose to dance with me,” he admitted in almost a whisper. He glanced off for a moment before taking a deep breath and making another confession. “I’m not sure how much longer I could have held myself back.”

My heartbeat sped forward. “I didn’t think you noticed me in the least.”

“How could I not?” His voice was low with an intimacy that whispered across my nerves.

I had to work hard for several seconds to still the thrumming of my heart before I could respond. “I know you don’t lack courage, sir,” I said, offering my own apology. “So if fear wasn’t holding you back, then what was?”

He didn’t speak for a long moment. Instead he glanced away to the other dancers. “I cannot rightly seek out your attention, my lady, especially when it’s not mine to gain.”

“Of course it is.”

Regret pooled in his eyes, a regret that did nothing to ease my inner churning. “I’ve already determined I shall not stand in the way of my friends winning your heart.”

At his confession, we glided in step to the dance for a few silent moments. But questions clamored through my mind. Why did he feel thus inclined? Why would he acquiesce to his friends so easily?

“I don’t understand.” I struggled to keep from sounding desperate. “Why would you not want to participate in your master’s plans? Have I done something to offend you? Have you found me wanting?”

“No, my lady,” he responded rapidly in a harsh whisper. “I beg you not to think there is anything wrong with you.” His grip on my waist tightened, and he drew me imperceptibly closer so that I could almost hear the pounding of his heartbeat. “The more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I admire you.” The confession fell from his lips.

“I know I still have much to learn —?”

“Yes. We all do,” he said as his dance steps slowed almost to a halt. “But I cannot fault you, though I have tried.”

“Then what?” I asked too quickly. “What prevents you from seeking my heart?”

“’Tis me.” The muscles in his jaw flexed. “I’m a poor, landless knight with naught to offer you. I have no wealth, no power, no prestige, and . . .” His voice dropped so that I had to silence my breathing to hear him. “I have no family name and no family honor.”

His last words were spoken with such loathing that I knew I couldn’t argue with him. Instead I squeezed his tense arm. “Perhaps I have need of none of those things.”

He shook his head, and I could see from the determination in his eyes that he’d already made up his mind. “My friends are good men. The best in all the land. And they are much more deserving of you than I could ever be.”

Even as he spoke the words, I could sense Sir Collin watching me from a side table where he stood sipping ale with the duke. I could also sense Sir Bennet’s eyes on me from the opposite side of the room where he’d gone to admire the castle’s artwork, which I’d requested be put on display for the dance.

They were both fine men. I’d do very well to fall in love with either one of them. But did they have the qualities I most needed in a husband? I wasn’t exactly sure what those qualities were, but I realized that I coveted deeper sharing, honest relating, and common passion for the same causes.

I hadn’t experienced that yet . . . except perhaps with Derrick.

I focused on Derrick’s chest, lest he see the truth in my eyes and it scare him away from me even more. What could I do to change his mind, especially when he was already decided against wooing me? Would I need to woo him instead? And if so, how?

A sudden scream rent the air. The music trailed to a discordant halt, and a woman’s distraught voice cried out, “My husband! He’s been poisoned!”





Chapter

14




I CROUCHED BESIDE THE NOBLEMAN SPRAWLED ON THE floor. A dark stain had formed around the man’s mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head, and each breath was deep and labored.

The woman who kneeled next to the nobleman wept openly, her cries mingling with the gasps and anxious murmurings of the other guests.