Eleanor answered to no man. She did as she pleased and lived her life to the fullest. She, alone, made Henry, King of England, bend to her will.
Aunt Eleanor was her ideal.
Aye, Nora not only wanted to be named for her aunt, she wanted to be her. Powerful. Decisive.
A woman in charge of her own destiny.
Catarina twirled around the fire, then held her hand out to Nora. “Care to dance?”
Nora hesitated for only an instant. “Show me how?”
Catarina pulled her to her feet, then raised her skirt up so that Nora could watch her feet.
Nora followed her carefully while the men played.
“You look as if you have gypsy blood in you, little Nora,” Viktor said as he smiled at her attempts to duplicate Catarina’s movements.
Nora returned his smile, pleased by his praise. But she knew she was no match for Catarina who moved as if she were one with the music.
Catarina led her around in a twirling bit of dance.
Nora glanced to Ewan, then swallowed. He wasn’t looking at Catarina anymore, he was staring at her.
With searing heat.
With hunger.
With need.
It made her burn. Imagine him looking at her like that. She wouldn’t have thought it possible.
Yet he did.
And that look...
It made her feel womanly and beautiful. For the first time in her life, she understood passion and desire.
Ewan was magnetic and powerful, and his need for her was so intense that it was virtually tangible.
Unaware of why Nora had stopped moving, Catarina grabbed her hands and whirled her around again. And even though she danced, Nora’s gaze continually went back to Ewan and the heat of his eyes that burned through her.
After they had finished the dance and music, Catarina and Nora cleaned up the mess from supper. The men packed away the instruments and made pallets for everyone.
Catarina was putting away the pot when she met Nora’s bemused stare.
“For a woman not interested in Ewan, my lady, you certainly looked ready to kill me over the fact he was paying attention to my dance earlier.”
Nora’s face went flush, but she wasn’t willing to let anyone know just how much she really did desire Ewan MacAllister. “I did not.”
Catarina laughed. “You can’t hide the truth from me, Nora. I saw your heart. It was plainly written in your eyes.”
She wrinkled her nose at the woman. “I think you just like to play matchmaker, don’t you?”
“Only when I see two people who belong together.”
Nora scoffed. “I do not belong with Ewan MacAllister. Believe me.”
“Whatever you say.” But her tone carried the full weight of Catarina’s doubt.
