Page 4 of May Queen: May Day

“Wait!” Ricard held a finger in the air. “What am I to do with the girl until the wedding?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Oswald turned and raced for the drawbridge as if he had the hounds of hell on his heels.

“He sure seems to be in a hurry,” said Nash from next to Ricard as they watched him go.

“Aye, he does at that, and I don’t like it.” Ricard found the whole thing unsettling.

“My lord,” said Nash in thought. “Do you think . . . could his niece be . . . I mean, could it be possible that . . .”

“Out with it, Squire. If you have something to say, then do so already.”

“Mayhap she has the face . . . of a warthog,” said Nash, wrinkling his nose at the thought and faking a shiver.

“A warthog?” Ricard jerked backward at the suggestion. Could this be the reason Oswald was in such a hurry to leave? If Ricard just agreed to marry a girl who had the face of a wild pig, he would never forgive himself for being so far in his cups that he wasn’t more careful. He had always been so choosy his entire life, and now because of drinking too much whisky, he’d acted recklessly. He had already shaken on the deal and there was no way he could break the betrothal now since he had formed an alliance with the baron.

“There’s only one way to find out. Shall we?” Ricard headed over to the girl with Nash dogging his heels. “Lady Flora, my name is Sir Ricard Wellington. I am your betrothed,” he said, bowing slightly as he approached the baron’s niece.

“I know who you are,” she answered curtly. “I am not daft, Sir Knight.”

“I am his squire, Nash,” broke in Nash excitedly.

“Please, allow me.” Ricard extended his hand to help the girl down from her horse, but she refused him.

“I can dismount by myself, thank you.”

Ricard was about to object, only wanting to be chivalric. But as soon as she lowered her hood and he saw her face in the moonlight, his mouth dropped open. It wasn’t that she was ugly. Nay, not at all. In fact, if was just the opposite. This woman was a raving beauty. She had alabaster skin and long, auburn hair. Her eyes looked to be green in the moonlight and her pink lips turned up slightly at the corners. Aye, she intrigued him but also terrified him at the same time.

He’d seen her face before – too often. Lady Flora Debenham was the witch in his nightmares! She was the woman in the woods who always stood inside a ring of fire.

He cursed silently under his breath. “Quick. Get me a drink, Squire,” he mumbled to Nash.

“Now?” asked Nash. “I thought you’d want to show Lady Flora to her chamber first and then go back to bed.”

“Nay, Squire. I’ll get no more sleep tonight,” he answered, wondering if he’d just made a deal with the devil.