And the reason for the ill-ease marching up and down her spine.
“I am not concerned about the dead man,” she said. “He would only trouble me if his arrow had struck true.”
“Indeed?” Sir Marmaduke cupped her chin and looked deep into her eyes.
“Aye, that is so,” she told him true, frustration writhing like a trapped serpent in her belly. “He meant to kill you.”
“But he did not.”
“Oooh!” She jerked free and waved a hand at the knightly war-goods scattered all about them. “Since when is such metal needed to lift a few a cattle?”
Since I learned we’d be routing a traitor along with fetching a bit of fair eating for your table.
“Since someone attempted to fire an arrow in your back or mine on our return from the chapel,” Marmaduke said aloud, and hoped the half-truth would soothe her.
It didn’t.
She stood straighter and squared her shoulders, narrowed her sapphire eyes. “Sir, I believe you are trying to shield me.”
“Is that not what champions do?’ He smiled. “That, and slay dragons.”
Something indefinable, but disturbing enough to lance his heart, flashed across her face. “I doubt anyone can slay mine.” The words came so softly he scarce heard them. “Not all of them.”
“You err, my lady.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her aside, away from his men. “You err greatly.”
“Is that so?”
“It is, and beyond all doubt.”
She’d removed her sister’s veil and he touched his fingers to the sleekness of her coiled braids. The urge to undo them and bury his face in her unbound hair was strong, but the clink of metal all around them kept his head cool.
He’d enjoy the glories of her beautiful tresses later.
“And how do I err?” she asked, catching his gaze. “Will you tell me?”
“Indeed.” Gladly capitulating, he gathered her close and knew true peace when she slipped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his shoulder.
“You err, because I shall not only slay each and every one of your dragons, but scatter their remains on the four winds so they can never darken your heart again.”
The promise made, he lifted his chin and kissed her.
Not the hot slaking kiss he’d given her in the church, but one of great tenderness. A smooth and gentle caressing, a mere grazing of his lips over hers, until he’d absorbed enough of her sweetness to hold him through the hours to come.
And, hopefully, until some of the doubt left her heart.
Easing away at last, he nuzzled his face against her cheek. “Every last dragon, my lady, and we shall begin hastening their demise as soon as I’ve returned.”
* * *
As soon asI’ve returned.
The promise steadied her, shoring up her backbone with each blessed whirl across her heart. Encouraged by the faith she put in his vow, Caterine sat beside her husband at the wedding feast, if the chaos in the great hall could be called such. She also struggled to ignore the swiftly passing hours.
Soon it’d be time for him to steal away.
The surety of it stood reflected in the drunken cries of the revelers, in the spit and hiss of the guttering torches, their flames nearly spent, and in the increasing number of heads slumped upon the long tables.
Snoring heads.
