Binding Vows(22)
“Well, aren’t you an encyclopedia of medieval knowledge.”
“’Tis what I’ve been told.” He avoided her searching eyes. “Ah... It looks as if some of the men are anxious to win tomorrow.” He lifted a hand, pointed to the men who were already in the arena practicing for the upcoming games.
Tara looked at the men on horseback with nervous anticipation.
“You are competing, right?”
Duncan’s hand rested on the small of her back as they moved closer to get a better look at the men as they practiced. “Nay, Tara. I will not be competing.”
She turned to him in shock. “But I thought... I mean since we’ve been...”
His face softened in a boyish, playful smile.
“You’re joking,” she said in relief.
“I’ll not be competing. I will be winning,” he declared with absolute conviction.
Her sigh came out in a rush, which was followed with her delicate hand hitting his chest. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Are you worried I wouldn’t fight for your hand?”
“You’re the only guy here I’ve kissed! You damn well better fight for my hand!”
“I do enjoy your kisses.”
“I’ll give you another if you win,” she promised.
He moved closer looking as if he would take another kiss right then. Bruno grunted behind them, 62
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ruining the moment.
Damn, she thought, wishing they were alone.
****
They were finishing their evening meal when Madame Gwen made her appearance in the dining hall. Tara noticed the look the brothers exchanged, but the plastic smile on Gwen’s face made her forget what she was thinking and left her feeling chilled. Polite greetings were made, and Fin started asking questions as soon as Madame Gwen walked up. “What’s next on tonight’s festivities?” he asked.
Instead of answering, Gwen looked over at Tara.
“Miss McAllister, you will be asked to dance with every man competing tomorrow. I hope you don’t object.”
“Well...” Tara straightened up to attention.
“We wouldn’t want the men to think you’ve already picked the winner and there’s no reason to play the games.” Grainna directed her look at Duncan. “I’m sure your friend won’t mind.”
Tara noticed a slight twitch in Duncan’s jaw.
She hoped he would object.
Instead he smiled and said, “Of course not.”
“Good.” Gwen clapped her hands together, her bracelets jingled. Instantly, the music stopped and gave her the audience she demanded.
“Lords and Ladies,” her voice rang out. “On the eve of the solstice, and the tournament commemorating the occasion, I want to thank you all for joining us tonight. As promised, tomorrow’s games will fill the day and end with the joust.”
Shouts went up from the crowd as drunken men raised their glasses.
“The winner will have the honor of partnering with Lady Tara in a handfasting ceremony.”
Whistles could be heard over the crowd. At least one man shouted something about a wedding night. “The 63
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celebration which will follow will rival any period wedding of the time of the Renaissance. One I hope you will enjoy.”
Clenching the goblet, Tara took a giant swig from her wine. Duncan’s hand found the other resting in her lap under the table. His gentle squeeze reassured and calmed her.
“Those competing for Lady Tara’s hand have the opportunity to meet with her tonight and are given one dance each.” Gwen signaled the musicians and sound filled the air. “Enjoy your evening.”
Gwen tilted her head and left the platform.
Men lined up, adding to Tara’s distress. The music was soft and resembled a waltz. Her knees trembled when the first man approached.
Tara smiled at Duncan and then glared at Cassy. She moved forward and let her first partner lead her to the dance floor.
He was short. His name was Jimmy or Timmy, Tara couldn’t remember. He counted while they danced which kept him from talking. It was awkward dancing with a stranger, but Jimmy or Timmy seemed as uncomfortable as her.
Outside of a sore toe, Tara was less scared than she thought she’d be when the next man came forward.
After the third dance partner, Tara’s earlier jitters started to subside. The men asked the same questions. ‘Are you having a good time?’ ‘How is it, being in the limelight?’ Harmless men, most of them married, or so they said.
Her fourth partner was familiar and handsome for a blond. It took her a few minutes of meticulous dancing to realize who the man was. He embodied the part of English knight, from accent to dress. He didn’t have to count to dance, which afforded him the opportunity to talk.