A Midsummer Knight's Kiss

by Elisabeth Hobbes

  He barely noticed he was being addressed at first, but Mary’s soft voice burrowed into his brain and he dragged his eyes back to his partner. Her blue eyes were watching him closely as she waited for his response.

  ‘With a partner as graceful as you, any man would d-dance as if his feet had w-wings.’

  She gave a rippling laugh. Robbie forced a laugh, too, and for the rest of the dance he almost succeeded in forgetting to watch what Rowenna was doing and whom she was with. This was what he had dreamed of for so long after all, and the fact it made him feel like he had placed second in an event was hardly Mary’s fault.

  ‘M-may I dance with you again?’ he asked when the dance ended.

  ‘I promised my aunt I would not dance with anyone twice in succession,’ Mary answered. ‘Ask me again in two dances’ time.’

  Robbie looked for Rowenna and discovered she was dancing once more with Cecil, who had a gleam in his eye that Robbie recognised all too well. Robbie’s mood darkened again. Two dances and the intervening time spent sitting with Cecil. Either Aunt Joanna had not given her daughter the same instruction as Mary’s aunt had or, more likely, Rowenna had chosen to ignore the advice. Cecil caught his eye and gave him a wicked grin. This time Robbie was prepared and plunged through the company to be beside Rowenna and Cecil before the final notes of the lute had died away.

  ‘Why, Master Danby, are you hoping to claim my partner?’ Cecil asked in surprise. ‘Have you been introduced?’

  ‘W-w-we—’ Robbie felt his throat tightening in frustration as the words would not come.

  ‘Yes, we have,’ Rowenna broke in. She giggled loudly and Robbie wondered how much wine she had drunk before he had noticed her.

  ‘Would you like to dance with me, Robbie?’

  She stepped towards him, raising her face in the manner she had gazed at Cecil. She bit her lip and turned her dark eyes on him, batting her long lashes in a coquettish manner that set his pulse unaccountably racing. His impulse was to agree that, yes, he very much did want to dance with her, but he reminded himself why he had sought her out.

  ‘No. Let’s talk.’

  He took hold of her arm, slipped it through his and escorted her to his bench.

  Rowenna shivered with exaggeration. ‘You still always insist on sitting so far away from the fire. I wondered if you would have grown out of that. Never mind. I’m warm enough from dancing.’

  She spun around in a whirl of skirts and threw herself on to the bench beside him. Tendrils of hair had come loose from her gold wire caul and were plastered to her cheeks and forehead. She blew upward to loosen them, taking deep breaths that lifted her breasts high in a manner Robbie found distracting. It was as if unseen hands had taken her body and sculpted it into something entirely new since he had parted from her the day before. Something fascinating and attractive and very, very desirable. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed, deepening her beauty. Robbie said nothing.

  ‘That was fun, but I have such a thirst now. Fetch me another cup of wine please, Robbie,’ she asked breathlessly, leaning close to him. He caught the scent of wine on her breath. Another? He wondered how many she’d drunk already.

  ‘I think you’ve had enough,’ he said sharply. ‘You’ll be tipsy.’

  ‘No, I won’t!’ She hiccoughed and put her hand hastily over her mouth with a giggle. ‘Perhaps you’re right, but even if I am, why is that your business? You aren’t my guardian.’

  ‘Apparently tonight no one is,’ Robbie muttered.

  Rowenna pouted. ‘Why are you being so sullen?’

  She put her hand on his forearm, but he shrugged her off. He folded his arms and glared at her.

  ‘Because when I should have been enjoying finally getting to dance with Mary I was instead concentrating on making sure you weren’t ruining your reputation by behaving in such a flighty manner for half of York to see!’

  ‘Flighty?’ Her jaw dropped and her eyes blazed. ‘I was only dancing, just the same as everyone else in the room. Why do you have to be so staid?’

  He regarded her sternly.

  ‘You can do as you please, of course, but I’m not going to stand by and watch you ruin your reputation and bring shame on our family.’

  She glared at him. ‘How can you be so unfair? You have no right to be so judgemental! You know I rarely get the chance to meet people and how I’ll struggle to find a husband.’

  She looked mutinous and he sensed they were on the verge of a quarrel. Nevertheless, he set his jaw.

  ‘That’s all the more reason to be discreet, I would have thought. I thought you were learning to behave as a lady.’

  ‘I am! I haven’t disgraced myself and I wasn’t indiscreet.’ She swept an arm around. ‘There is not a woman here who hasn’t danced with at least five men.’

  ‘You need to curb your passion,’ Robbie warned, catching her hand as it narrowly missed his head. ‘Your eyes and manner give too much away. It isn’t seemly. Or safe.’

  ‘Mother talked about safety, too, as if I were about to offer myself to half the city!’ Rowenna rolled her eyes, pique filling them. Robbie wished he had a mirror to show her how clearly her thoughts could be read. ‘Is that what you think I’ll do, too?’

  He assumed she was still a virgin like him and therefore had no idea of the urges that assailed men. Were women immune to such hot, desperate hungers or did Rowenna crave the experience of lovemaking, too? The image of Rowenna offering herself to him thumped Robbie in the groin like the impact of a lance. Would Rowenna make love with as much abandonment and passion as she showed when dancing? Unbidden comparisons between Rowenna and Mary reared up inside him, turning his flesh hot and prickly as once again the balance tipped in favour of Rowenna. He pushed such coarse thoughts from his mind and took a deep breath.

  ‘Of course not! But not all men would wait to be offered. You need to show more caution,’ he muttered. ‘I might not be there to protect you next time.’

  ‘Protect me from what? Rowenna pointed a finger at him and raised an eyebrow, giving him a wanton smile. ‘Don’t blame me because you didn’t like what you saw and don’t dare to do the same. If you had half the boldness to go ask your Lady Mary to dance as you did in dragging me away, you’d have spent less time sitting alone in the corner. Cecil told me you intended to ask her. Though on that subject—’

  Robbie scowled and cut her off midsentence. Rowenna apparently hadn’t even noticed that he had plucked up the courage to ask Mary. ‘I was watching Cecil and he seemed to tell you a lot of things. He never appeared to stop whispering in your ear.’

  She gave an indignant gasp, starting to her feet, then sat back. She arched her brow and pouted. ‘Well, perhaps whispering with Cecil is more fun that sitting while you glare at me in silence. At least he’s exciting.’

  ‘Excitement is overrated. You need someone you can depend on.’

  ‘Dependable is dull,’ Rowenna snapped.

  ‘Is it?’ Robbie winced. She’d called him that before now. The urge to be impulsive began to bud inside him.

  Rowenna stood and turned to him. ‘Marriage is my only chance of escape from Ravenscrag and it is going to be hard enough to find a husband. I won’t sit in a corner watching while the world dances around me!’

  ‘Goodnight, Rowenna,’ Robbie said curtly, standing. ‘I’ll get you your wine, then you can go back to your dancing. I think I shall leave. I’ve lost the taste for company, it appears.’

  He bowed stiffly and walked away.

  He half expected her to follow, but she didn’t. He stormed across the hall, where the dancing couples had joined in a circle. Men and women—most likely strangers before this evening—were laughing, with arms about each other or hands linked. Robbie ground his teeth as he watched.

  Had Rowenna been acting worse than any other woman, or was Robbie being unfair because watching
her dancing with Cecil had created such a surge of unexpected jealousy it had made him lose all rationality? He looked back at her. She was sitting now, alone in the chilly corner with her head bowed, and he felt a rush of guilt. He had ruined her enjoyment and he was no longer convinced he had been justified in his accusations. He wasn’t sure about anything any more and was beginning to fear he could no longer trust his judgement where Rowenna was concerned.

  * * *

  Rowenna watched Robbie cross the room until the crowd of dancers swallowed him. He didn’t look back. Nor did he make his way to the table where the wine was. Instead he stood alone at the furthest end of the hall with his head turned away. She leaned back against the table with an angry exhalation. His company was no loss, not when he had been so cold and disapproving. It would almost serve him right to marry Mary and discover her contempt for him when it was too late.

  She sat still for the remainder of the dance that was being played. Robbie did not return with her wine and she assumed he had left the Common Hall, but then caught sight of him. He was being introduced to one of the guildsmen who would not give Rowenna’s family the time of day. Resentment bubbled inside her. It was well enough to chastise her, but if she didn’t speak to the men who acknowledged her, how would she find one?

  As she watched, Robbie took to the floor with a handsome, richly dressed matron who must have been forty or more. His head turned in Rowenna’s direction and she whipped hers down so he could not see she had been looking. Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them clear. An insistent throbbing in each temple was beginning to plague her. She twisted on her bench to face the table and rested her chin on her elbows, taking deep breaths. If he did return, she was determined he would not know that their quarrel had upset her. She began to draw spirals in a puddle of spilled wine.

  ‘You’ve been abandoned. I could scarcely believe what I saw when Danby walked away, but it is true.’

  Cecil Hugone slipped smoothly on to the bench at Rowenna’s side. She opened her mouth to pour out her woes but bit the words back. Robbie was family. Cecil was not. Oh, she would eviscerate her cousin’s character to her mother when she returned home, but despite Robbie’s accusations, she did care about her family’s reputation and would not share a private matter with someone she didn’t know.

  ‘I’m weary of dancing,’ she said curtly. ‘I sent him away.’

  ‘And he followed your instruction? I admire his obedience, but clearly my friend Danby doesn’t know treasure when he has it in his hands because there isn’t a woman to match you in the whole of York.’

  Rowenna gave him a hard stare. The flattery wasn’t true and Rowenna was beginning to doubt Robbie had any sense in his head. She risked a glance over Cecil’s shoulder. Robbie was still dancing, his body stiff and his face expressionless. She took consolation in the fact he had not found Mary, who Rowenna spotted standing with her friend Amy looking aloof. She added a squiggle to the biggest spiral in the wine, hoping that if she continued to remain silent Cecil might leave her in peace, but instead he rested his hand on the table, disconcertingly close to Rowenna’s, and looked deep into her eyes.

  ‘Compliments have no effect on you. A rare woman indeed,’ he breathed. ‘I meant no offence, but I hate to see you looking so downcast. Perhaps I could offer you a drink?’

  Rowenna’s stomach rolled over as the remembrance of strong wine filled her mouth.

  ‘Thank you, but I have had my fill of wine.’

  Her conscience gave her stomach another prod. Robbie had been right to refuse her more wine when she had demanded it. Had he been right in what else he had said? Was she behaving badly?

  ‘Then another dance, perhaps?’

  Cecil reached for her hand and Rowenna allowed him to take it, her worries melting away. If Robbie was dancing, why shouldn’t she? He helped her rise and they threaded their way into the throng. From the corner of her eye she saw Robbie’s head jerk in her direction. He grimaced and stared pointedly at her, but she gave no indication she had noticed him.

  * * *

  For the remainder of the dance Rowenna ignored Robbie. He did not exist for her. If they drew near to him, Cecil whisked her away. When they had no choice but to pass in the line, her eye slid over him, past him or remained fixed on Cecil’s, though she could see that Robbie’s expression was dark. Cecil moved as well as he had before as he led her through the steps, but this dance held no joy for Rowenna.

  It was not Cecil’s fault. He smiled and joked, but the lips that obsessed her weren’t his, and the arms she wanted to be in were lightly on the waist of another woman. Sitting in the dark corner alone was preferable to dancing close to Robbie and having to pretend their falling-out did not make her want to weep.

  When the music ended, she thanked Cecil politely but brushed away his request for a second dance, explaining she was feeling breathless and faint. His expression of concern was so sincere and instant she felt guilty for deceiving him.

  ‘In that case, why don’t we take a walk into the garden?’ he suggested, leaning close to whisper into her ear. ‘It’s cool and quiet. We could find a bench to rest on until you are feeling more active. We could get to know one another a little better.’

  His voice was playful and Rowenna hesitated. She knew well enough why some couples took walks into the garden and it was a tempting thought. Cecil was a fine-looking man and was a good dancer. Rowenna couldn’t deny that her heart raced a little when his hand strayed to her waist. Cecil was surely trustworthy otherwise Robbie would not be friends with him, but she recalled her father’s words as he had left her at the door and the jest she had made to her mother and aunt. Even if she and Cecil sat side by side without as much as touching—which she was certain he did not intend to do—tongues might wag and she would be hard-pressed to deny any rumours. Robbie would have further reason to chastise her and, in that case, he would be right.

  Regretfully, she must decline.

  She was saved from having to refuse him by the master of musicians calling everyone to attention and announcing there would be a short break from dancing while the minstrels performed. Servants placed benches and stools in a semicircle before the dais where the musicians were arranged. Rowenna saw the wife and daughter of a silversmith her parents knew.

  ‘Excuse me, I must relay a message from my father to Mistress Ashe.’

  She curtsied to Cecil before he had time to protest at her leaving and joined the two women, finding a place on the bench towards the rear as the first notes began. She saw Robbie standing to her right, leaning on a pillar. Cecil had taken a place between Mary and Amy. Rowenna wondered if her cousin had not noticed. There was room on the bench beside Mary, but Robbie remained where he was. She tried to concentrate on the playing, which was accomplished, but her eye was obstinately drawn back to Robbie. His gaze wavered back and forth between the minstrels and the line of women and Rowenna realised his attention was on her, not the recital.

  He looked miserable and the final traces of anger melted in Rowenna’s heart. How could she have been so foolish as to fight with him? She had the urge to go to him and mend their quarrel, but she was careful that whenever his eyes slid to her she was looking elsewhere. If she allowed herself to meet his eyes, she doubted she would be able to control the emotion that welled up inside her.

  The piece ended and polite applause flitted round the chamber. Now it was acceptable to turn her head slightly and meet Robbie’s eyes. He inclined his head respectfully, but his eyes were wary after their quarrel and he did not smile. Waves of misery washed over Rowenna, making her shudder. She stood and began to move towards him, eager to share her thoughts until it struck her this was perhaps too forward. That he might not welcome her company. That he might prefer to search out Mary.

  While she wavered, the decision was taken out of her hands as she saw Cecil sweep across the room and appear by Robbie’s side. He had acquired a go
blet of wine for each of them. Robbie gave one backward glance at Rowenna before following Cecil. She sat back down and made conversation with Mistress Ashe and her daughter for the bare minimum amount of time courtesy allowed. As soon as she was at liberty, she began her search for Robbie.

  He was standing beside Cecil, close by the large stone fireplace, at the centre of a group of women. Cecil was speaking, waving his arms wildly as he described a joust or something. Robbie was silent. Mary had managed to manoeuvre close, weaving her way through the huddle until she was standing at Robbie’s elbow, turning an innocent expression on him and talking rapidly. She had clearly decided to show interest in him as she had promised Amy. Rowenna’s cheeks began to flame, remembering the callous way Mary had mocked Robbie. In all the commotion she hadn’t told Robbie what she had overheard and now it was too late. She could not intrude upon the group without knowing how Robbie would react.

  She was forced to watch impotently from a distance. Robbie was nodding and giving every appearance of listening attentively to each woman who spoke to him. His face bore a smile, but his shoulders were tense and there were small lines at the side of each eye. When he lifted his wine cup his knuckles were pale from gripping it. She recalled he had hated open flames when he was younger. A stranger might not notice his unease, but Rowenna had known him for so long. She knew what every tilt of his head meant, every twitch of his lips. He was nervous and the air of shyness that surrounded him only made him more endearing. How could someone so fearless and capable with a weapon retain the unassuming nature Robbie possessed?

  Her scalp prickled as she watched the group of women, oblivious to his emotions but enthralled by his fine figure and handsome face, cooing and preening like a flock of peahens around a pair of cocks. Or geese around a pear tree. The memory flashed into her mind and, despite her anxiety, she giggled. She and Robbie had been friends for too long to let a few harsh words come between them. He would not turn away from her in front of everyone.