Before she could pinch him, Edmund ran off to join the young men who were gathering opposite the ladies on the floor.
The queen leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Owen claims to be a poor dancer, but I begged him to join the competition.” She giggled like a girl and added, “It gives me an excuse to watch him. Does he not look fine in his new clothes?”
The short green tunic and orange leggings revealed Owen’s muscular thighs to advantage.
“The tunic is a gift from you?” Linnet asked.
“As my clerk of the wardrobe, his appearance reflects upon me,” Queen Katherine said. “ ’Tis important he dress well.”
That may be true, but Linnet doubted the queen’s clerk would have received such a fine gift if he were a paunchy man of sixty.
Joannna Belknap, one of the queen’s ladies who sat farther down the row, leaned forward to get their attention. “The dancers are ready! Here is the first one.”
The ladies clapped enthusiastically as each young man took his turn, twirling around the circle and leaping over a candle set on a tall holder in the middle. The third man was Edmund Beaufort, who proved to be an accomplished dancer. When he leapt as gracefully as a hart over the candle flame with a foot to spare, the women whooped and stamped their feet in a most unladylike fashion.
After a final set of spins around the circle, Edmund took a running leap over the candle with his arms and legs extended. As he landed, he dropped to his knees and slid across the floor to stop just in front of Linnet. Linnet threw her head back laughing—until she felt a prickle at the back of her neck.
She turned to see Jamie leaning against the wall with some of the other men who were not participating. His eyes were hot on her, and he wasnotcheering. Perhaps all was not lost. Jamie looked as if he was torn between murdering her and ripping her clothes off. Linnet met his gaze and held it, not caring who noticed.
The queen elbowed Linnet in the ribs, drawing her attention back to the dancers. “It’s Owen’s turn!”
Edmund Beaufort remained where he was, half lying on the floor in front of Linnet, as the musicians began a new song and Owen took the stage.
Owen had a heavy, muscular frame better suited to a jousting contest than a dancing competition. Owen, however, was the sort of man who could risk making a fool of himself and laugh about it. This lightheartedness was part of what attracted the queen to him. Though Owen could not begin to match Edmund’s performance, he danced with such lively good humor that the ladies soon burst into applause.
“Please do not appear so enthralled, Your Grace,” Linnet whispered, though of course it did no good.
The music grew faster, signaling that the song and Owen’s turn were coming to an end.
The ladies’ cheering encouraged Owen to make a final round of the circle. As he skirted the side where the ladies sat, Linnet saw that the hem of someone’s gown was draped across the floor directly in Owen’s path. Before she could shout out a warning, Owen’s foot caught on the fabric.
“Oh!” Too late, Linnet screamed as Owen flew through the air, sending the ladies scattering and leaping to their feet.
Linnet stared, not quite believing it. Owen had landed facedown… in the queen’s lap.
The music died on an off-key chord. The room went still as everyone stared openmouthed at the queen with Owen’s face buried in her lap. The silence grew deafening as the guests waited for the queen to shout her outrage.
Instead, the queen slapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes danced, and her shoulders shook.
“Owen, get up!” Linnet hissed, giving him a none-too-discreet kick.
Owen lifted his head—which, most unfortunately, was still between the queen’s thighs—and Her Highness fought against another burst of giggles.
Owen tried to get up, but his feet were hopelessly tangled in the queen’s voluminous skirts. As if by magic, Jamie appeared and hauled Owen to his feet. The two men scraped low bows to the queen—and then were gone.
Chapter Twenty-one
“Are there no more dancers?” Linnet called out above the buzz of whispers in the hall.
When she gave Edmund a pleading look, he clapped his hands and shouted, “Music! Come, Sir Gerald, let us see if you can best me.”
Linnet sighed with relief as a young man took to the floor and the music of flute, harp, and drum filled the hall.
“God bless you, Edmund,” she said close to his ear. “Will you stay with Queen Katherine? I have something I must attend to.”
“Anything for you, my sweet,” Edmund said and kissed her hand yet again.
She really would have to have a talk with him, but not now.
